Oathbound

In the opening of the tree-circle where the road turned into the paved 'court' was -- something. It looked lupine -- it had a wolf-type head, anyway. But it was so damn big!

Kethry pulled herself to her feet and half-stumbled to the entrance. 'If you come in the Name of the Powers of Light, enter freely,' she croaked, 'If not, be you gone.'

The thing bowed its head gravely, and padded into the circle. There it stood, looking first at Kethry, then at Tarma; deliberately, measuringly.

:I bond to you:, said a deep voice in the back of Tarma's head.

Once again she nearly jumped out of her skin.

'Li'sa'eer!' she choked, backing a few paces away from the thing. 'What?'

:I bond to you, warrior. We are alike, we two; both warriors for the Light, both -- celibate --: - The voice in her head had a feeling of amusement about the choice of the last word. :It is fit we be soul-bonded. Besides, Lady of Power --: he turned to look at Kethry,  :-- you do not need me. You have the spirit-sword. But you --: he turned his huge eyes back to Tarma, :-- YOU need me.:

'She'enedra,' Tarma said tightly, keeping a firm grip on her nerves, 'What in hell am I supposed to do? He says he wants me!'

'Oh, my Lady Bright -- what a bloody mess! It could only happen to me! Give in,' Kethry staggered to her bedroll and half-collapsed into it, laughing weakly. 'A day and a night of spell-casting, and what happens? My familiar decides he'd rather bond to my partner! Lady Bright -- if it weren't so damned funny I think I'd kill you both!'

'But what am I supposed to do?'

:You could try talking to me.:

Tarma gulped, and approached the beast cautiously. It sat at its ease, tongue lolling out in a kind of grin. She could sense his amusement at her apprehension in the back of her mind. Curiously, that seemed to make her fear vanish.

'Well,' she said at last, after several long moments of trying to think of something appropriate. 'I'm Tarma.'

:And I -- am Warrl.: The creature lay down on the pavement, and cocked its head to one side. Its -- no, his; it might have been a 'neuter' but there was a distinctly masculine feeling to him -- his eyes caught the moonlight and reflected greenishly.

'I'm not quite sure what I should do about you,' she confessed. 'I mean I'm no mage -- what's the next move?'

:You might start by offering me something to eat,: Warrl said, :I've come a long way, and I'm hungry. Do I smell meat-bars?: There was something in his mental sending that was so like a child begging for a sweet that Tarma had to laugh.

'You do, my friend,' she replied, rising to get one for him. 'And if you like them as much as I dislike them, I have the feeling we're going to suit each other very well indeed!'

Six

They were fortunate; almost as soon as they emerged from the Pelagirs, they were able to find a short-term job as escorts. A scrawny, middleaged man sought them at their inn within hours of when they had posted themselves at the Mercenaries' Guild and paid their fees.

'You'll be providing protection for my new bride,' their employer, an hereditary knight who didn't look capable of lifting his ancestral blade, much less using it, told Tarma. 'I will be remaining here for a month or more to consolidate my interests with Darthela's father, but I wish her to make the journey to Fromish now, before winter weather sets in.'

'Are we to be the only guards?' Tarma asked, a little doubtfully. She shifted on the wooden bench uncomfortably, and wished Kethry was here instead of visiting the tiny White Winds enclave she'd ferreted out. She could have used the sorceress' quick wits right now.

'I'm afraid so,' he replied with a sheepish smile. 'To be brutally frank, Swordlady, my house is in rather impoverished condition at the moment. I couldn't afford to take any of my servants away from the harvesting to serve as guards for her, and I can't afford to hire more than the two of you. And before you ask, my bride's retinue is confined to one handmaiden. Her dower is to be in things less tangible, but ultimately more profitable, than immediate cash.'

Tarma decided that she liked him. The smile had been genuine, and his frankness with a pair of hirelings rather touching.