Moving Targets and Other Tales of Valdemar

begin to ready herself to travel again.

She opened the last saddlebag, pulling out the last of the meat that she had packed the day before and placing it before the kyree and her cubs. The kyree pushed several of the smaller pieces to the little ones before bolting the rest. The cubs, too, ate quickly, and it seemed that the cold predawn light had diminished their spirits, as well.

Laeka could well share their mood. An adventure is only grand while it is exciting, with swordplay and horses and firelight, she thought. After a cold, damp night on the hard ground, it is difficult to be enthusiastic .

While Laeka tended to the horses, saddling them and rigging the extra pad on the chestnut gelding’s saddle, the kyree slipped out of the clearing. :I will see if we are pursued. Travel west, and I will find you. The cubs will cooperate with you.: The little ones ducked their heads a little at that last, especially the garrulous Rris, so Laeka knew that she was not the only one to hear it.

She watched until the kyree was out of sight in the underbrush, then finished preparing the horses before turning back to the cubs.

“I do not wish to force you to this,” she said to them, “but I think that for speed you must be in the cage.”

Rris, however, nodded. :We thought we would have to. But you, we trust.: They clambered into the cage, and Laeka again secured it tightly to the saddlepad. This time she arranged it with the door-lashing to the top and left it uncovered so the cubs could lift their heads over the edge.

Loosely fastening the lead line of the gelding to the gray mare’s saddle, and the gray’s line to the copper mare’s saddle, she mounted the copper mare, stifling a grunt as she forced her leg to stretch over the horse’s back. Settling herself, she shook out the reins.

They had barely found a game trail to the west when the kyree came down the path behind them in a leaping gait. A pulled step and shortening of stride on the left side were the only signs that the injuries of the day before were still present. :The pursuit is closer than I thought. I will go back and blur the trail again—at least they do not have dogs to track by scent. I do not think we are too far from your home.:

Laeka studied the brush around them and did a quick calculation in her head. “A few marks, perhaps a little more at this pace.”

:They smell of greed and desperation. They are hungry for the wealth, and maybe fear the anger of their buyer. But I think they would be more afraid to be caught.:

“They will not come too close to signs of settlement. We will move, then.” The kyree disappeared back into the brush, and Laeka kneed the mare out of her easy fast- walking pace. She urged the horse to take the forest paths as fast as she dared—with their Shin’a’in blood, her horses would be faster and more surefooted than any of the bandits’ animals.

For a mark or more, they ran, until Laeka could feel the copper mare’s stride beginning to shorten. Her breathing was still even, though, and her coat was not yet completely sweat-darkened. Glancing back, she saw that the less burdened gray and the chestnut gelding were still running smoothly. The next time the kyree ghosted along the path beside them, Laeka spoke to her.

“The horses need to rest a bit. How close behind us are they?”

:We have gained ground, but not as much as I would like. A short rest, though, we can spare.:

The game trail had been following a creek, and Laeka slowed the horses at a point before the path split, one fork angling deeper into the forest. She urged them to stand in the shallows to cool their hooves and forelegs, dismounting in the water herself to check their harness and quickly brush at the sweatiest spots with the extra saddlepad. With their Shin’a’inbred intelligence, she could trust the horses to wait until they had cooled a bit to drink, and not to drink so much as to bloat their stomachs and make themselves sick.

Too soon, Laeka led the horses out of the water and mounted up, this time astride the gray mare. Well, I’ve thoroughly ruined these boots, she thought with a sigh. By the time we get back, the water will have soaked them beyond repair. Not to mention what cold, wet leather after a night outdoors might do to my health. If all I get is a nasty cold, I’ll consider myself lucky.

Taking the bend of the game trail deeper into the forest, she kept the horses at a slower pace while she studied their surroundings, finding the triple-leaved plants that only grew in the Pelagiris around where she had built her stables. This trail should connect, then, with one that crossed the road to her steading. Even if the bandits tracked them to the road, she thought the pursuit would end once they neared populated areas.

A faint echo of a surprised shout startled her—she guessed it was close to where they had rested. And they had not hidden which fork of the trail they had taken. The path widened, and she bent forward over the mare’s neck, urging her into a steady canter, the kyree falling behind them. The soft pounding of hooves on grassy sod filled her ears, the mare’s mane lashed her face, and a strange exhilaration swelled up within her. So this was what adventuring felt like! The horses behind her, the frightened cubs, the kyree mother all vanished from her head, drowned by this wild delight. She wasn’t even aware of guiding the mare out of the woods until they were on the road and the sound of the hoofbeats changed. Still entranced by the strange joy, she pushed the mare to a full gallop, thrilling to the rise and fall of each stride and the power of the horse beneath her.

Only when they rounded the last corner and approached the fenced areas and the guardhouse did she ease back in the saddle, bringing the mare down to a canter, a trot, a walk.

The guard on duty hailed them but recognized the horses and Laeka almost in the same breath. The cubs stayed hidden in the cage, and when Laeka glanced back, she saw that the kyree appeared a great deal smaller and more doglike. Smothering a smile, she nodded to the guard, ignoring the question in his face.

She took the horses to one of the farther corrals—shamefacedly making use of the block to dismount on the way there and nearly losing her feet anyway. Meros appeared out of nowhere, and she was silently grateful for his aid as they pulled down the cage, placing it in a nearby tack shed before unsaddling the spent horses and brushing them down, their only words soft murmurs of praise to the horses.

When the horses were finally made comfortable, Meros walked to the stable, his arms full of sweat-laden tack while Laeka went back to the shed.

The kyree had gathered her family, ready to return to the forest.

“Will you be safe?” Laeka murmured.

:We cannot go to our cave, but I know of another place where we can stay until the little ones are more grown and able to travel longer distances. Foolishly, I had wanted to live away from the Pack, but . . : She tilted her head towards the cubs. :I believe I shall rejoin them.:

“Fair travels to you then, and may Agnira watch and bless you and yours.”

:And the same to you and yours.: The kyree turned and herded her pups ahead of her, crossing the pasture toward the woods. Just before they slipped under the fence and between the trees, she looked back.

:I am Rheena, of the Hyrrrull Pack. I name you Friend to the Pack, for we are in your debt. We shall return to repay our debt.: She turned again and nudged the cubs before her.

:And I still want to hear how you met Cousin Warrl.: The plaintive Mind-voice drifted back from the tree-line, and Laeka laughed aloud as she walked stiffly back toward the house. A hot bath, she thought, as hot as I can stand it. I haven’t ridden like that in many years— and there’s a reason for that.

Passing the private corral, Laeka paused while the brood mares pushed against the fence in front of her, their eager noses stretched out for her strokes and gentle scratches. It was good to know that she had helped save the kyree’s cubs. But it was better to be home again.

The Sword Dancer

by Michael Z. Williamson

Michael Z. Williamson was born in the United Kingdom and raised in Canada and the U.S. A twenty-three-year veteran of the U.S. Army and U.S. Air Force combat engineers, he is married to a reserve Army combat