“Valorian.”
Gylden’s voice startled him out of his reverie.
“I have some mares about to come into season. Would you consider allowing me to breed them to Hunnul?”
Valorian was pleased and a little surprised. Gylden was passionate about his horses and had painstakingly built over the years the largest and finest herd of Harachan horses left in the Clan. It was an honor that he wanted to mingle Hunnul’s bloodline with that of his beloved mares. There was only one problem. Valorian rubbed his chin and said apologetically, “You know he’s not a full Harachan. I, uh, borrowed Tyrranis’s stallion one night.”
Gylden burst out laughing. “You mean that big, mean bay he brought from Tarnow? I wondered why your horse was so tall. I don’t care if he’s half-cow. I’ve never seen a horse run like that.”
The clansman glanced up at the sky as if something had occurred to him. “That trait may not be something he could pass on to his foals.”
“I’ll take my chances,” Gylden replied. “He’s a fine horse.”
“Then you may breed him to every mare you have. . . on one condition.”
“What?”
“Talk to your father. Talk to your family. Be my ally in your camp.”
Gylden grinned. He would have done that anyway for Valorian. “Done!”
The two men clasped hands to seal the bargain and went to work butchering their catch.
Later that evening, Valorian brought Hunnul into camp and tethered the stallion just outside his tent.
“I wish you could have seen him run, Kierla,” he said to his wife while he curried the horse’s black hide. Hunnul was shedding his winter coat in great handfuls, and he leaned into the scratchy brush with pleasure.
“Could Amara have given him more than a white mark?” Kierla asked. She enjoyed watching her husband care for his horses. He took such care to thoroughly clean them, scratch their itchy spots, and treat them like friends. She marveled at how his hands could be so gentle and yet so strong at the same time. .
“That’s the only explanation I can think of,” Valorian answered. “He’s never run like that.” He finished his work and leaned thoughtfully against a tent pole. “Gylden wants to breed Hunnul to his mares. We have some in foal heat, so I think when ours come into full season, we’ll breed them to Hunnul, too.”
Kierla chuckled, low and throaty. “He’s going to have a busy summer.”
The man laughed with her, but his thoughts followed another notion that had been growing in his mind all day. Tomorrow he intended to try it out.
After sharing the morning meal with Gylden and his father the next day, Valorian mounted Hunnul and rode into the wooded hills near the camp. He wanted to find a secluded place where he could use his magic away from prying eyes. Wasn’t long before he found what he was looking for in a narrow canyon watered by a shallow creek. He rode upstream for a time until they came to a wide bend shaded by trees and scented with the smell of honeysuckle.
There Valorian slid off Hunnul’s back and left the stallion free to wander while he settled under a tree to think. He knew what he wanted to do, but he wasn’t sure how to go I about it or whether he should even attempt it. He had never I used magic on a living creature—except Sergius, and that I had been a disaster—so he didn’t know what to expect. The spell he had in mind could easily cause irreparable harm if it went wrong. He would never forgive himself if he injured Hunnul in any way.
Still, there was no other horse he wanted to use. Hunnul was already a highly intelligent animal who had complete trust in and love for his master. He and Valorian had developed a strong rapport in the six years of the stallion’s life, and Valorian was counting on that attachment to help his magic complete the transformation he wanted to make.
The clansman sat for a little while longer, with the spell slowly forming in his head, then he called Hunnul.
The big stallion was in the creek, having a luxurious roll in the sandy, cool water when Valorian summoned him. He came willingly to his master’s side and promptly shook himself. Water and sand sprayed over the man in a shower, soaking his clothes and covering him with sand and loose horse hair. The black looked at Valorian through his long forelock, and the clansman swore he saw a glint of laughter in the dark, liquid eyes.
Trying not to laugh or curse, Valorian brushed off his clothes as best he could. He should have known better than to call Hunnul in the middle of a wet roll. When most of the sand and hair were gone, he led the stallion to a large, flat boulder where he could sit at about eye level with Hunnul while he called forth the magic. He paused a moment and scratched the stallion’s neck, feeling the bone and brawn and silk that formed his magnificent horse. This is going to work, he said firmly to himself. It has to!
With that thought firmly in mind, Valorian sat cross-legged on the rock to begin the spell. He took Hunnul’s soft muzzle in his hands, closed his eyes, and reached out with his mind to draw on the magic around him.
The stallion shifted his feet restlessly a time or two at his master’s strange behavior, but he trusted Valorian and didn’t try to pull away. Gradually, though, a change came over the big horse. He stilled to an unnatural motionless pose, his breathing slowed, and his eyes stared straight into the clansman’s face. He didn’t make a sound or flicker a muscle, nor did Valorian. They remained locked together by touch, by magic, and by the unseen link of their thoughts as, ever so gently, Valorian probed into the mind of the horse.
The deeper he went, the more he was amazed by the complexity of the stallion’s mind. There was far more to the horse’s feelings and awareness than the primal desires for food and self-protection. He also learned for the first time the full extent of the gifts Amara had given Hunnul by the power of the lightning: greater speed, strength, endurance, and, most interesting of all, a heightened desire to learn.
Valorian immediately focused his magic on the last gift.
He wanted to find a way to communicate with Hunnul, to teach the horse a comprehension of human language and a way of transmitting thoughts. Horses obviously couldn’t talk like humans, but Valorian thought that, through magic, he could teach Hunnul how to speak to him. He wasn’t trying to turn the stallion’s equine intelligence into human intelligence, and yet as he manipulated the magic in Hunnul’s mind, he unconsciously imprinted some of his own experiences, thoughts, and his understanding of human emotions Onto Hunnul’s brain. In the process, the man and the horse formed an inseparable bond that would never be broken as long as they both survived.
It was dark when Valorian came out of his magic-induced trance. He blinked in surprise and would have fallen off the boulder if he hadn’t caught Hunnul’s mane. His body seemed petrified from sitting so long in the same position, an h h e was completely and utterly exhausted. Very carefully r; eased himself off the rock and leaned against the stallion for support while he stretched his aching legs and arms.
“By Amara’s crown, I’m tired,” he said aloud. Gently he patted Hunnul’s neck, wondering if his magic had done any harm or good. The stallion seemed sluggish, and it was difficult to see his eyes in the darkness to know whether the horse was alert.
He was about to lead Hunnul to the creek for a drink of water when something incredible happened.
The black stallion poked his nose at Valorian’s chest, and clear and strong in the man’s mind came the words, I’m hungry.
Kierla knew something extraordinary had happened the moment her husband burst into their tent. His entire body was tense with excitement; his eyes shone brilliant blue in triumph. Without a word, he took her hands and danced her a few steps around the tent.