pain, no feeling of imminent danger. Vree felt him link and welcomed him in, his mind seething with agitation but not pain.
He had given a distress call, but the bondbird himself was uninjured.
'Here! Help! Look-look-look!' the bird Mindcalled again, and this time gave Darkwind a look through his eyes.
A disorienting look; for Vree circled and twisted wildly, but Darkwind was used to looking through his bird' eyes. He recognized the spot immediately; on the edge of the swamp, but he did not recognize the man that was the source of Vree's anger and distress, a man laying out what could only be a hertasi trap. The view dipped and swung, as Vree circled, his silent rage burning in Darkwind's mind, making the Tayledras clench his fists and longed with the bird to screech out a battle-cry. Then with another turn, Darkwind saw what must have triggered that rage.
The man had three pack-mules with him, and on the third was a raptor, a big one, bound on its back and hooded. From the little he could see, it looked to be a crested hawk-eagle; from the size of it, it could only be of bondbird breeding.
He had no idea that he was running until he saw Elspeth pounding beside him, already astride her Companion, and offering him a hand up.
He seized it, and scrambled behind her. Then they were off, plunging through the thick snow. This was not like the last wild ride he'd made, for Gwena could not run or trot in the heavy snow. Her progress was a series of lunges or leaps; it was harder for him to keep his balance on her back, but easier on his bones.
Their quarry knew they were coming, for they made no effort to hide the noise of their passage. But their quarry did not know two very pertinent facts.
He was nearer the hertasi village than he knew. And while they were sluggish in the cold, they were by no means impotent. Anger alone was enough to keep their blood warm in the snow and give them the same agility they had in the high heat of summer. They, too, could dress for the cold and preserve some body heat when action outside was needed.
And although the encroachinf maiye had ---.-t A tk I- Al~: A L had caucht from call; ;t. A;.t,... I7 I L; on r e I,s ~ *~ -as unuer no sucn nanalcap.
Nor was Darkwind; while he was nowhere near as adept at Mindspeaking with other creatures as his brother Wintermoon, he was still one of the best in the Clan. The soundless cry went out for assistance.
While Vree was calling his fellow bondbirds, Darkwind was rousing the hertasi village, starting with old Nera. The attack was conceived and coordinated in a matter of moments. The three forces converged on their target at nearly the same instant.
If the mage-for mage he was; he had a lightning-flare ready for them the moment they plunged over the top of the hill and began the sliding descent toward him-had only had to face Darkwind and Elspeth, he might have won. They were tired, and he was fresh. If he had only faced the hertasi, with their simple fishing spears, he would have won. And he had already proven he was capable of felling bondbirds from the sky.
But, since only Darkwind's party was making any noise, he had no idea that the others were on the way until it was too late to do anything about them.
Darkwind flung a shield up before them to deflect the first bolt. The second went awry as Vree dove, his claws ripping through the cloth of the man's hood, narrowly missing the scalp. Behind Vree came another forestgyre, in the same stooping dive, then a gyrkin, then a trio of perlins, all of them slashing at head and face with their long, sharp talons.
They struck to hurt, not to bind; the perlins in fact struck close-fisted, as if they were trying to knock a duck out of the sky. The mage screamed in pain as the talons scored deep gashes in his scalp; staggered under the blows of the perlins, any of which would have been hard enough to stun him had they hit the temple.
He tried to protect himself with his arms. Apparently, like most Pelagir-wilds mages, there were severe gaps in his education. He seemed unable to summon any physical shields.
The birds retreated to the protection of the skies, gaining altitude as one. The mage stood, one hand on his bleeding scalp. From behind him, a thicket of spears boiled up out of the half-frozen swamp.
Darkwind struck then, gesturing behind Elspeth's back with two clenching fists. Gray and green stripes of a binding spell tangled the mages hands and his magic for a moment. That moment was all that was needed. The hertasi did the rest.
They swarmed about the mage, casting their fishing spears and pulling on the lines. He tried to run, then slipped and floundered in the heavy snow. He scrambled to his feet again, and fell for the last time. The hertasi overran him, and he writhed to avoid the wicked points of the spears.
In moments, he looked like nothing so much as a hedgehog. In heartbeats, he was dead.
Gwena skidded to a halt in the snow beside the man's string of pack animals, a trio of tired mules who gazed at them with absolute indifference.
Darkwind slid down off her back and hurried to the last one, the one bearing the bird like just another bundle of forest gleanings.
This much the man had known; he had bound the talons into fists, tied them together, bound the wings to the body so that it would not injure itself, then hooded the bird so that it could not see and would not struggle. The hood was strung to the bound feet by a cord, to prevent further movement, and from the cord dangled a carved bead.
As Darkwind's hands touched the bundle, he felt-something. It was akin to the draining effect of the Heartstone, and was centered in that bead, and spread throughout the bindings.
He drew back and examined the bird with mage-sight-and swore.
Small wonder he had not Heard the thoughts of this bird; it was bound by magic as well as by bands of fabric, a binding that linked its life-force to the spell that held it. And that could only have been for one purpose.
Elspeth bit her lower lip and peered at the bindings on the captured hawk-eagle. Her face looked as it did when she was hearing news she didn't like.
