Ambrodel’s side.
“How long is the journey to your city, Father?” asked Greenhands.
“On foot, we’ll be many days walking,” said the Speaker. “We’ll have to pass through Pax Tharkas on the way.”
Ulvian reacted violently to this. He halted in his tracks and stared hard at Kith-Kanan, who continued walking along with the rest of the group. The others on foot passed the prince, until he was standing alone on the narrow mountain trail, the rest of the party well ahead of him.
Kith-Kanan called out, “Coming, Ullie?”
He wanted to shout back, “No!” but there was no wisdom in resisting. His sister would merely insist he be restrained. His father had said he would be allowed to return to Qualinost with the rest of the group. All the prince could do was hope that was true.
They made good time that day, reaching the wider road in the lower elevations by midafternoon. Kith-Kanan halted them there for a rest and food. Cooking fires were lit under the flawless blue vault of sky. The Speaker commented on the fine weather.
“Strange,” he mused, “the Kharolis in summer is usually beset by daily thunderstorms.”
“Perhaps the gods are showing their favor,” Kemian suggested.
Verhanna and her father exchanged a private look. “Some happy influence is at work,” Kith-Kanan agreed. The Speaker believed that the shooting stars and this fine weather were all signs that the gods were pleased by the fact that, after four centuries, he and Greenhands had come together.
Rufus had dropped off the rump of Verhanna’s horse when the column stopped and promptly disappeared into the rocks on the high side of the road. The group was busy, though, and no one paid any attention.
The soup was just beginning to boil when the drumming of hooves echoed down the road. The warriors, true to their training, dropped their pots and cups and grabbed their weapons. Kith-Kanan, more curious than alarmed, walked to the end of the road and looked up and down the mountainside, trying to see who was coming. Dust rose from the trail. He heard a high, broken yelp.
“Hi-yi-yi!”
Around the curve in the road appeared Rufus Wrinklecap, clinging to the back of a brown-skinned centaur. More wild horse-people followed, and they barreled up the road straight at Kith-Kanan. The warriors shouted for the Speaker to withdraw to safety, but Kith-Kanan stood his ground.
The lead centaur, carrying the kender, came to a stop just inches from the Speaker.
“Hail, Your Worthiness!” declared Rufus. “This is my friend, Uncle Koth, and these are his cousins!”
Kith-Kanan placed his right palm over his breast. “Greetings, Uncle Koth, and all your family. I am Kith-Kanan, Speaker of the Sun.”
“Most happy to see you, cousin Speaker.” The centaur’s dark eyes, round like a human’s, flitted quickly from side to side. “Where would be our friend, he of the green fingers?”
Kith-Kanan beckoned Greenhands forward. The centaur embraced him with both brawny arms.
“Little cousin! We heard you call, and have run hard all day to find you!”
“You were a day’s ride away, and you heard him blow the horn?” asked Verhanna, amazed.
“Indeed so, sister cousin. Is that not why I gave it to him?”
Koth beamed, showing his uneven, yellow teeth. “We found the littlest cousin down the road, eating jackberries. He explained the boon you desire from us and led us back here.”
Verhanna raised an eyebrow at her kender scout. “Jackberries, eh?”
Rufus gave her an ingratiating smile. “Well, there were only a few—”
“This is excellent,” Kith-Kanan said. “Are you willing to carry us all the way to Qualinost?”
Koth scratched behind one ear. The stiff brown hair that fringed it grated loudly on his callused fingers. “Well, cousin Speaker, where might this Kaal-nos be?”
Kith-Kanan said, “By horse, it’s an eight-day ride from here.”
“Horse!”
Koth snorted, and the band of centaurs at his back laughed loudly. “The sun and moons all know no horse can run like the Kothlolo,” he boasted. “If it pleases you, cousin Speaker, we will have you in your Kaal-nos in six days.”
This claim set the warriors buzzing with speculation. Kith-Kanan held up a hand for quiet. “Uncle Koth, if you can put me in my capital in six days, I will give you a reward such as no centaur ever dreamed of.”
The centaur’s eyes narrowed with thought. “Reward is good. I’ll think on it, cousin, and so should you. When we get to Kaal-nos, I’ll find out if you think as big as Koth!”
There were only eight centaurs. Since it was claimed that ordinary horses would not be able to keep up, only the Speaker and his close party rode them. The rest of the warriors were told to proceed on horseback to Pax Tharkas, where relief and refreshment would be given them.
“Are we bypassing the fortress, Father?” asked Verhanna.
“If the centaurs can get us back to the city in six days, there’s no reason to detour to Pax Tharkas,” he replied. Verhanna looked at Ulvian and frowned but said no more.
There was much rough laughter and nervousness as the party climbed on the centaurs. Kith-Kanan rode Koth. Without saddles or stirrups or reins, the riders were worried about maintaining their balance as they rode. Rufus supplied the answer. His mount was a dapple-gray lady centaur who wore a buckskin halter over her small breasts. The kender took the wide sash belt from his formerly fine suit of clothes and tied it loosely around her human waist. This gave him something to cling to from behind, and it didn’t impede the centaur’s movements. In fact, she stroked the dirty yellow belt fondly, admiring its silky smoothness. The rest of the party quickly copied the kender’s invention with whatever belts or braces they owned, and they were soon set.
“Ready, cousins?” boomed Koth. Together the centaurs chorused their assent. “You have a firm hold, cousin Speaker?”
Kith-Kanan shifted his seat slightly. “I’m ready,” he said, gripping the leather baldric he’d converted to a centaur harness. Koth gave a wild, wavering yell and galloped down the road at breakneck speed. The rest of the centaur band thundered after him.
The Speaker had ridden some strange creatures in his life. His royal griffon, Arcuballis, had possessed breathtaking strength in flight and had once performed a complete loop in the air, but this! The riders’ weight didn’t seem to hinder the centaurs much; they bounded over low obstacles and careened around large ones with absolute abandon.
Kith-Kanan was above yelling from fright or excitement, but his followers were not so restrained. Verhanna, whose long legs nearly scraped the ground when astride her short-legged centaur, yelped involuntarily at every wild bump and turn. Rufus whooped and shouted from the back of his lady centaur and waved his big hat. Kemian tried to emulate the Speaker’s dignity, but an occasional startled shout escaped his lips from time to time. Ulvian was tight-lipped, his thoughts on distant things. Only Greenhands seemed to take the ride with perfect equanimity. Despite the pounding pace, he held on with one relaxed hand and studied the scenery with total attention.
The landscape swept past at an astonishing rate. As surefooted as goats, the centaurs raced near the sheer drop that bounded the mountain road. Kith-Kanan gradually relaxed his death grip on the baldric and sat more erect.
“How long can you maintain such a pace?” he said loudly in Koth’s ear.
“I shall be winded in a few hours,” shouted the centaur. “Of course, I am old. My young cousins can run longer than I!”
Kith-Kanan cast a glance back over his shoulder. His children and friends bounced and yelped on the centaurs’ backs. Red topknot streaming in the wind, Rufus flipped him a salute. Verhanna gave her father an uncertain smile as she glanced at the cliff’s edge almost below her feet. Greenhands waved casually.
The wind sang in Kith-Kanan’s ears, and the day was fair and warm. He would soon be home in his beloved city, arriving on the back of a wild centaur. Throwing back his head, the Speaker of the Sun laughed out loud. His merriment echoed through the hills against a rhythm of centaurs’ hooves.