smiled weakly. 'It looks like it's going to be a very large party.'
Kellen nodded. 'But most of the folk won't be here until afternoon, Master Badelz and Master Eliron said,' he added helpfully.
For once, Idalia looked to be at a total loss for words. 'Well. I just didn't expect… Kellen, these people are losing their homes, their farms, everything they've grown up with and worked for because of me… and they're throwing me a party?'
'And because of me, too, don't forget,' Kellen pointed out reasonably. 'Lycaelon left you alone for years. He didn't even let a summer pass before he started hunting me again. But still… a party's a party. It's done them a lot of good to have something happy to plan. And it's probably the last good time these folks are going to see for a while. We ought to let them enjoy it—when Master Badelz suggested it, I figured it was as much for them as for us. Probably more.'
'Yes,' Idalia said with a sigh, giving in to the inevitable. 'I guess it is. Anyway, I want you to take these out to Coalwind and Prettyfoot and braid them into their manes. I know a mule doesn't have much mane, but do what you can. They're just a couple of simple charms that should keep them from being worried by anything they see or hear. I don't want them getting spooked and trying to run off.'
She handed him two small clear round lumps of yellow amber, each strung on a short length of red ribbon. Kellen could feel warmth and serenity radiate from them—a simple spell of comfort and protection.
'Got one for me?' he asked with a smile.
She raised an eyebrow at him. 'You're on your own, brother mine. Try the mead.'
KELLEN was relieved to find Coalwind and Prettyfoot right where he'd left them. He was glad to see they hadn't been upset enough to try to run off when all the noise started. Then again—since half of the people making the noise were Centaurs, maybe it had sounded like a normal gathering of their own kind to the horse and mule.
He'd paused on his way out to pick up a small bucket of grain—one of the things Idalia had traded for was grain for the animals, since they couldn't afford to let them wander far enough now to keep themselves in natural forage, and once they were on the road they certainly wouldn't be able to go slowly enough to let them feed themselves. Since he was carrying the bucket, both animals looked up alertly when he arrived. Their ears pricked forward when they spotted the grain bucket, and Coalwind whickered flirtatiously.
He set the bucket down and retrieved their halters from a nearby branch, then haltered both animals before removing their hobbles, remembering to hold firmly to their lead-ropes as he did. Kellen wasn't an expert horsemaster, he wasn't even close, but fortunately he'd spent a little time around his father's stables when he'd been younger—before that activity had been added to Lycaelon's 'forbidden list'—and Idalia had refreshed his memory on the important points. Always put the halter on before taking off the hobbles. Always feed the two animals far apart (Coalwind was a hog and a thief, and would steal Prettyfoot's grain if she could). Don't walk up behind them. Never expect them to be able to see him, even if he thought he was in plain sight; make quiet noise from a distance. Stay out from under their feet unless absolutely necessary. And get used to slobber, because horses don't have table manners.
Though the rules applied more to horses than to mules (and none of them applied to unicorns!), it didn't do any harm to treat the two animals equally. Coalwind was trying to pull toward the bucket, but he led her firmly over to a tree and tied her there with close attention to the knots, then led Prettyfoot to another tree several yards away. Only then did he get the grain and pour it out on the ground where the animals could get at it.
While they were eating, Kellen braided the charms into their manes. Coalwind was easy; the only difficulty was getting her to hold still while he did it, for she seemed to have the idea firmly fixed in her head that if she could just investigate every bit of his clothing, she'd find a treat (which was often the case on other occasions). But he got the charm securely braided into her mane at last. And the warm glint of the amber against her dark coat was a very pretty sight.
But Prettyfoot, as Idalia had predicted, was much harder to attach the charm to. The mule's mane was more like Shalkan's—a short stiff brush running the length of her neck—and there was no possible way he could braid anything into it.
At last he settled for tying it onto the halter to dangle down her forehead. He'd thought about tying it into her tail, but she'd probably eat it, and even if amber wasn't going to do the insides of a mule any harm, Idalia would be annoyed to lose a nice big piece of amber as a mule-treat. He thought that would hold, at least for tonight.
And tomorrow they'd be gone.
A peculiar sadness filled Kellen at the thought. Not homesickness precisely, because he hadn't really been here long enough for this place to become home. But it might have become home, given a little more time, and he felt an unsettled grief at the lost opportunity.
Kellen pushed the thought aside. There were others whose suffering and loss were far greater—both now, and in the moonturns to come.
Had the High Council lost its tiny collective mind? He knew the regular citizens of Armethalieh didn't question the Mages' decisions—hell, they didn't even know about half of them—but surely they'd notice that the City had suddenly decided to claim hundreds—no, thousands—of miles of new territory for no particular good reason? The Mages would have to tell them. It wasn't something that could be done out-of-sight, like so many of the Mages' dealings. The City might claim there would be an increase in wealth for the City, but there would also be an
