The Hob's Bargain(14)

He must have gotten free and come home.

I set down my bucket and walked past the barn to the field beyond. Daryn had left the gate open the morning he left. I closed it behind me as I stepped into the pasture, more out of habit than anything else. The sound of the hinges caught the horse's attention and he faced me, pricking his ears for a moment before trotting briskly to me, whickering.

He stopped a few feet away and snorted, tossing his head once before shoving it into my midsection and rubbing it against me. Since he was still wearing the remains of his working headstall, the rubbing hurt. I slapped him lightly on the neck.

"See here, sir," I said catching the shanks of the bit. "Stop that, Ducky." Daryn had originally called the horse Fire Hawk, or some such romantic name, but Caulem called him Duck instead, and that was the name which stuck.

I stripped the bridle off - from the looks of it, it hadn't been off since the raiders had stolen him. Sweat darkened his coat under the leather and there were several places where the hair had rubbed away, leaving small bare patches of pink skin. The reins, once long enough to drive him with, were a little shorter than my arms.

"Someone tied you by the reins, eh? Not too smart."

I continued to mutter soft nonsense to him as I opened his mouth to see if he'd hurt himself when he broke free. He put up with it for a moment, then stretched his nose in the air and forced me to release him. He forgave me for the indignity as soon as my hands were off his nose, and pushed his head forward to be scratched some more. Someone had pulled his shoes, perhaps to make it harder to track him.

"Well," I said, "I was wondering how I was going to get that cow out of the bam - now I just need something to use as a harness. Maybe Kith will loan me something."

The practical words didn't hide the tears, but I wiped them away briskly. Stupid to cry over a horse's return, but for some reason I didn't feel nearly as alone as I had this morning.

I left him in the pasture, set the bridle aside for mending, and continued with my chores. The cow could wait until tomorrow. I whistled a little tune as I scrubbed the cottage, but it echoed and made the house more empty, so I stopped. I'd done my weeping in the darkness of the cellar, and in Duck's mane; time to be done with it.

When the house was clean, I caught the five remaining chickens and put them in the coop, where they would be protected from predators. While I was measuring grain for the fowl, I heard the sound of hooves on hard-packed earth.

My heart leaped to my throat, but it was only one horse. It wasn't likely that a raider would ride out alone, at least I hoped not. Still, I stayed in the slight protection of the bam until Kith's red hair came into sight around the bend in the road.

He rode at a brisk trot, his back straight from years of military experience and Albrin's teaching - I rode that way myself. Torch, his yellow dun, was hammerheaded and thin-necked, but his strong legs were straight and heavy-boned. There was a spring to his step that would never let him be ugly while he was moving. He was big for a riding horse, though still a couple of handspans shorter than Duck.

There was no hesitation in Kith's movement as he swung off Torch and turned to face me, but I thought I glimpsed uncertainty in his eyes before he hid it behind the wall that kept him separate from others.

For an instant I saw a much younger Kith running at top speed with Quilliar tearing after him, wild glee lighting both of their faces. It hurt me afresh that the free-spirited boy I'd grown up with had turned into this reserved, dour stranger.

I smiled politely at him, glad he hadn't come the day before and caught me wallowing in self-pity or writhing madly under the effects of the sight. With the first humor I'd felt for a long time, I gave him the formality his demeanor asked for. "Greetings and well-seeming, Kith."

He gave me a suspicious glance, and I remembered his support when I stood before the elders. Softening my teasing with more warmth, I said, "What brings you here?"

His jaw clenched, causing his pale skin to flush under his cheekbones. "Beresford valley is flooded."

All humor left me, and I stepped forward to grip his arm - I had friends and kin there, too. "I know, I saw."

Kith nodded, as though it was something he expected, but then Moresh's bloodmage traveled with the army, so perhaps he was used to magic. "The harper rode up Wedding Pass yesterday; he says the whole valley is underwater. Nobody from Beresford has come this way, so we think they must have left for Auberg when they realized that the water was going to cover the village." He looked at me, and I shook my head. I hadn't seen the Beresforders, hadn't tried to see them.

He continued after a brief hesitation. "Wandel and I are going on the old trail over Hob's Mountain to see if any villagers made it out."

I kept my hand on his arm, knowing there must have been a reason he'd come to see me before they went.

"Aren?" He looked away from my gaze. "Would you see if you can tell what happened to Danci? If she's all right?"

"Danci?" I repeated. She was a widow living in Beresford who had begun a campaign of courting Kith that must have been rather more successful than anyone had suspected, if it had caused Kith to come to me.

"Do you know what happened to her?" he asked. "If she's not in Auberg, I'd like to have some idea of where she's gone."

I gave him a wry smile. "I can try, but you saw what happened when I tried to see Cantier's scar - all I got was faces of dead men, most of whom I didn't even know. I've been having visions like mad ever since Silvertooth fell, but I don't have any control over them."