*He saw us together. He will believe us both, then, of the Dark.*
“So I think. The question is, do we attempt to lose him or will he attack?”
A mental shrug was her only answer. The woman nodded. The mare was right. They could only wait and see. One thing she decided: she would not allow them to be trailed too far in the direction of the canyon. If others found them there, they, too, might leap to conclusions. That she would not risk.
She became aware that Tharna was distressed by the human’s assumption that the mare was of the Dark. Eleeri reached out to stroke the rough mane, to scratch gently at the base of the small erect ears.
“It isn’t your fault, kin-sister. We are in Keplian lands and not so far from the tower. He would have assumed I was of the Dark even if he had not seen us together. He knows me not; my clothing is not of the kind his people wear.” She glanced down at the hackamore she used to guide the sturdy dun. “Even my bridle is not of their kind. I remade this into one I preferred, and close as we were, he could see the differences. Let him hunt; we will lose him quickly.”
But in that she proved wrong. Whatever else the man might be, he was a tracker. He was falling back as the dusk deepened, but still he clung grimly to their trail.
“Best we do not return?”
Unspoken agreement.
Eleeri swung the pony away from their homeward trail to move instead parallel to the stream. Better not to approach their ford, either. The tracker might see enough to follow that across the stream and into the hills. She wavered, wanting to drift back in to cover and slay him as he passed. The man was a danger to all she held dear. If he followed them to the canyon, he would doubtless return with others to kill them all. Yet she was unwilling to kill him out of hand. They fought on the same side in this battle. Medicine could turn against one who killed his own.
*He still follows,* Tharna observed.
Eleeri shared her indecision. Perhaps if they continued they could make a wide circle around the Keplian lands, lose this one in the rougher foothills far to the southeast. That was if he would follow them on a trail for so many days. But if he would, then they might lose him without the need to slay. On that last they were in accord. They dropped to a steady walk, leaving clearer signs as they moved on. Let him trail them now—it was their wish.
That he did for two more days. But on the third night he seemed to have lost the trail. Woman and mare halted on a small hill to study their back trail.
“No sign of him. The last I saw was last night’s fire.”
*Do you think we’ve lost him, kin-sister?*
Eleeri looked doubtful. “There’s no reason we should have. He’s followed us through more difficult tracking than this. Why should he lose us now?”
*Perhaps he has wearied of following?*
“Maybe, but I have an unpleasant feeling there’s more to it. I think I’d like to backtrack.”
*You think he’s run into trouble. Surely we would have heard or seen something.* Eleeri considered as she recalled the night. The wind had shifted soon after dark so that it blew from them to their follower. It had increased until by moonhigh it had been blowing hard enough to take any sounds away from them with ease. By dawn it had fallen to a light breeze, but if there had been an attack on the man around the middle night . . .
*Is it for us to seek him out? He walks these lands by his own will. He chose to hunt us both.*
“I know that, but I’m curious.”
Her friend heaved a loud sigh, then turned to retrace their tracks. With a grin, Eleeri heeled the pony up with her again. Tharna was just as curious; she’d never say so, but she was as interested in reasons as her kin-sister. They moved cautiously, watching any cover they neared for signs any hid within.
Ahead lay the larger patch of taller trees in which their hunter had stopped the previous night. Both halted abruptly as the breeze switched directions. To their noses came the stink of blood, death, and Gray Ones.
“So now we know. Your nose is keener. Are any still there?”
*None living.* They moved forward slowly, both alert to danger.
Within the grove the scent became stronger. Eleeri held her nose. “What is that smell? It can’t be bodies; if the man is dead, it was only last night it happened.”
The mare fiddle-footed nervously. *It stinks now of power. Be wary.* They slid closer, eyes flicking from side to side. To their surprise, the grove was hollow, a thick triple circle of trees about an inner clearing.
*I knew not that this was here, kin-sister. It is on the edge of our lands, but I rarely traveled this way.*
The woman shrugged. “It feels like power, but nothing dangerous?” Silently Tharna sent doubt. Many things in this ancient land felt safe—to prove as deadly as any obvious danger. Eleeri moved closer to the bodies. She counted thoughtfully. Whoever their hunter, he had been a fighter. He lay sprawled in the clearing; around him four Gray Ones lay. Somehow she had no wish to go toward them. There was still no feeling of danger, but something about the way the bodies lay was ringing alarm bells.
She stared at them as Tharna fidgeted. About them the turf in the clearing was short, almost groomed. The trees, then? She studied them. Interesting that it was a triple circle. Perhaps this place had once been some kind of temple.
*I smell power, but no danger as yet. Let us remain still and think.* Eleeri’s eyes went back to the five bodies and it was then that she realized what had troubled her about them.
Although the grass was a bare inch high, the figures lying here seemed to be half hidden within it. She moved to one side; from a new perspective the view was the same. Tharna, too, stared as the idea was passed. Eleeri stepped forward delicately to pick up the hunter’s sword. A soft grinding made her jerk upright. On the west side of the clearing something they had taken to be a boulder was slowly unfolding. It turned dim black eyes on them.
“Mine!” A rusty voice proclaimed. “Not take mine.”
The woman bowed. Politeness cost nothing, and here it could save lives. As she straightened once more, her eye was caught by the nearest body. Surely it had slipped deeper into the grass? Understanding came. A temple of sorts, yes, a place that the dead might find honorable burial in a self-maintaining system.
She bowed again, more deeply. “Guardian of the Dead, we came only to retrieve the personal possessions of this one. We seek nothing else. Will you give them to us, then allow us to depart?”
*Never mind those bits and pieces. Let’s just leave,* Tharna sent. Eleeri shook her head slightly at her friend. The thing that faced them might take it amiss if it believed they had come for the wrong reasons.
The grating voice came slowly. “Give gift.”
Hoping she had understood that, Eleeri reached for the bundle tied to her saddlebow. It was second nature to her to hunt as they rode, even with one who pursued behind them. Three of the plains leapers hung there on a plaited grass thong. These she carefully laid out on the grass before the guardian.
“These three for the possessions of this one and free passage,” she offered.
The leapers were already sinking into the grass, so small they could be utilized at once. The dim black eyes closed and the thing began to curl into boulder-likeness again.
“I guess that means we’ve made a bargain.”
The mare snorted softly. She turned toward open land, the pony following obediently. Eleeri bent to gather the hunter’s sword and saddlebags. She wondered what had happened to his horse; the poor thing was probably meat in Gray Ones’ bellies by now. Still, it was odd none of the wolf-ones had plundered the dead already. An unpleasant thought crossed her mind. Maybe the guardian had other defenses. It had been very clear that she should not take anything without a fair exchange. She smothered a chuckle. It was possible the Gray Ones had tried that and got the worst of the bargain.