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She stepped from the last curls of mist and strode over the turf. The Keplian mares and foals parted for her as astonishment exploded in their minds. She whirled to find them staring at Tharna, Hylan, and the magnificent Keplian who followed. Hiding a smile, she left her friends to explain. The day had been exhausting; she would relish a dip in the stream, then food and drink. In the morning she would ride again. They should scout the boundaries of the Gray Ones’ lands, see how far the evil had moved.

But the night brought Romar to her. His eyes more desperate, face more worn, his body lean to the point of gauntness. Hands traced the sign, his voice came to her faintly.

“If you cannot aid me soon, it will be too late.”

“I know where you are,” she said softly. “What I don’t know is how to free you safely. I could not bear to see those I love dead in this attempt.”

“I will tell you of a door. My master—” his face twisted in pain and anger, “plans to move against the Light soon. You could act then.”

“How much attention would it call to us?” Eleeri asked practically. A back door was all very well, but not if it had alarm bells.

“I may be able to turn his attention aside while you enter. He is stronger than I, but his power is not so much greater. That is why he uses me. Once inside, if you attack him and I also strive to be free, it may be that we will succeed.” He said no more, but she understood the thought. If he died in the struggle, he would still be free; it was merely a different path. But what of her? She had no wish to die facing something of the Dark. Yet—yet this was Mayrin’s brother, Jerrany’s friend. Her far-kin—and she had promised the lord and lady she would try.

She gathered all her determination. “Show me all you can.”

He did not speak for a long minute, but the look in his eyes was enough. Then he spoke quietly and swiftly. The door was one unregarded. Once it had been a secret, but to Romar, linked with the Dark mind which used him, knowledge had come. To use can be to let slip secrets as well, and so it had proved. With the right word it would open. Now that word was hers.

Along with it came warnings: she and whoever entered with her would be tested. She must remember that much would be illusion, but perhaps not all. Outside there would be no posted guards, although the Gray Ones roamed the area. Inside the tower there were those who served the Dark. Not all their weapons would be obvious. All the time the sign which hung in the air between them faded. Finally he had given her all he knew.

“It will take power to open,” he warned. “I cannot say how much. Go to Mayrin and Jerrany, beg their aid.” He sighed. “I would not draw them in as I have you, but without help, the Dark grows. I fear for them even if they cannot help.”

Eleeri lifted her hand to trace the sign. “I swear. I will tell them of you, and ask them to ride with me to lend what they have. I have little doubt they will come. Always they have sought you, fearing lest you had been slain.”

She said nothing of the long hours in which she had wrestled with this problem. Mayrin might be slender of body, but that slenderness concealed an iron will. Jerrany was quite simply Romar’s sword-brother as well as his brother-in-law; he would have stormed the Dark Tower on his own were there no other way to free Romar. If she spoke of the man she dreamed, this would happen. Twice she had determined to join forces with them. Each time she had returned to her canyon and seen the foals, she had weakened. How could she risk all she and her friends were building here?

Besides that, over the months there had been long discussions with Tharna, Hylan, and the other Keplians. They had slowly learned the joy of being truly free of fear and cruelty. Now it would please them to teach others, to bring more of their kind into the canyon until they had learned kindness. The adult stallions would be time wasted. But mares and foals could be taught. Was she to dismiss all this to ride to war? She might lose everything they had gained, and win what? A single man. One she had no need of.

In those flickering seconds before she answered Romar, her mind hardened in final decision. To buy a good life at Romar’s expense would be wrong. He was her far-kin. She owed him aid. Her eyes swept over a face grown slowly more dear to her.

If she left Romar to die, she would not be able to live with the decision. In the end, it was as simple as that. If he was rescued, Mayrin and Jerrany would understand her silence and forgive it. If she died, no one would know why she had said nothing for so long. Jerrany at least would understand, if he survived.

The sign faded, wisping into nothingness, and Romar was gone. She stared into the gray, remembering the desperation in his tone. The one who used him must be close to draining everything. Soon Romar would die in body and mind. Before then, she must have summoned help, taken the path to him for freedom or a clean death.

In her sleep her hand clenched savagely. If she could not win him free, she could do that. He should die at her own hands that the evil one might bind him no more. At her hands, death would set his spirit free.

There would be no time for scouting Gray Ones in the morning. With the light she must ride. But first—her mind busily turned over various plans and supplies.

A deeper sleep claimed her then. But always as she drowsed, Romar’s face watched her. Pleading for freedom, hopeful, believing in her. How could she have thought to stand back? This was a warrior. It was for her to ride with him in battle. Here was one who could accept her as she was. Her mouth curved in a smile that made her sleeping face briefly that of a child again. Far-kin, hold on, I am coming!

13

She woke with that determination still burning. She breakfasted, then went in search of the Keplians.

“Battle-sister, I must have speech with those at the lake. Will you come?” The mare stood thoughtfully, enquiring. “I dreamed again last night. Also I swore to my far-kin within the mist that I would aid Romar. It seems the time to fulfill that vow is come.”

*Dreamed?*

Eleeri smiled affectionately. Tharna always did like to hear it all in order. She began to explain. Hylan stood by in silence as he listened closely.

He found a point and broke in. Eleeri halted to hear him. In the Keplian lands Hylan had traveled widely over the past two years. He knew them as even the mare and woman did not. He was younger in battle and perhaps less wise, but he knew things they might need to learn. They listened, eyes intent on him. This would help them still further in an attempt to free Romar.

“But I need to ride for the lake, to tell Jerrany and Mayrin all this.”

*What then, battle-sister? You cannot bring down the Dark Tower by direct assault. It will need cunning. Cunning and power.* Tharna queried.

Eleeri began to talk again, quietly. Her friends nodded approval as she did so. It was hazardous, precarious, a chance and no more. But no less, either. The influence of the tower was spreading, the strength of its new occupant growing. Once Romar was gone, the evil one would seek others to use. Some might even come willingly.

“Enough talk. I ride now, this morning. Do either of you come, or do I go alone?”

Unnoticed by the three, mares and foals had gathered around them. They, too, had listened. Eleeri suddenly stepped back, jumping a little as she saw them for the first time. Her eyebrows rose and she glanced from one to the other. A lean scarred mare stepped forward. Theela seldom spoke. The scars had come from a vain attempt to protect her foal from a stallion. She had been found wandering dazed, bleeding, and bereft, to be gently guided back to the canyon by Hylan. She was a loner, most often keeping to herself, but her foal by her rescuer was now half grown and one of the finest in Eleeri’s lands.