'Had a pair of oathbound mercenaries in my company,' he replied, 'That was before I took the Wheel, of course. Brother and sister, and both Swordsworn as well, as I recall. When you held up your hands, I recognized the crescent palm-scar, and I couldn't imagine a Shin'a'in traveling with any but her oathsister. If you've a wish to guest with me, be welcome -- even though--' his face clouded, '--I fear my hearth's cold comfort now.'
Kethry had a flash of intuition. 'Grief, landsman -- your Wheelmate?'
'She waits the next turning. I buried what the monster left of her at Spring planting, these six months agone.'
Their host walked beside their mounts, and told his tale with little embellishment.
'--And there was no time for me to get a weapon -- and little enough I could have done even had there been time. So when the monster headed for the babe, she ran between it and him; and the creature took her instead of the child, just as she'd intended.' There was heavily veiled pain still lurking in his voice.
'Damn,' Tarma said, shaking her head in awe at the dead woman's bravery. 'Not sure I'd've had the guts to do that. What's this thing like anyway?'
'Like no creature I've ever heard tell of. Big; bigger than a dozen horses put together, covered with bristly brown hair -- a head that's all teeth and jaws, six legs. Got talons as long as my hand, too. We think it's gotten away from some mage somewhere; it looks like something a nasty mind would put together for the fun of it -- no offense meant, sorceress.'
'None taken.' Kethry met his brown eyes with candor. 'Lady knows my kind has its share of evildoers. Go on.'
'Well, the thing moves like lightning, too. Outruns even the lord's beasts with no problem. Its favorite prey is women and children; guess it doesn't much care for food that might be able to fight back a little.'
Kethry caught her partner's eye. Told you, she signaled in hand-speech. Need knows.
'The Lord Havim hasn't been able to do anything about it for the time being, so until he can get a hero to kill it, he's taken the 'dragon solution' with it.'
' 'Dragon solution'?' Tarma looked askance.
'He's feeding it, in hopes it'll be satisfied enough to leave everyone else alone,' Kethry supplied. 'Livestock -- I hope?' She looked down at the farmer where he walked alongside her horse. He kept up with the beast with no trouble; Kethry was impressed. It took a strong walker to keep up with Hellsbane.
He shook his head. 'People. It won't touch animals. So far he's managed to use nothing but criminals, but the jails are emptying fast, and for some reason nobody seems much interested in breaking the law anymore. And being fed doesn't completely stop it from hunting, as I well know to my grief. He's posted the usual sort of reward; half his holdings and his daughter, you know the drill.'
'Fat lot of good either would do us,' Tarma muttered in Shin'a'in. Kethry smothered a smile.
They could see his farmstead in the near distance; from here it looked well-built and prosperous; of baked brick and several rooms in size. The roof was thatch, and in excellent repair. There were at least five small figures gathered by the door of the house.
'These are my younglings,' he said with pride and a trace of worry. 'Childer --' he called to the little group huddled just by the door, '--do duty to our guests.'
The huddle broke apart; two girls ran into the house and out again as the eldest, a boy, came to take the reins of the horses. The next one in height, a huge-eyed girl (one of the two who had gone into the house), brought bread and salt; she was followed by another child, a girl who barely came to the wolf's shoulder, carrying a guesting-cup with the solemnity due a major religious artifact. The three children halted on seeing the wolf, faces betraying doubt and a little fear; plainly, they wanted to obey their rather. Equally plainly, they didn't want to get within a mile of the huge black beast.
Tarma signaled the wolf silently. He padded to her right side and sat, looking very calm and as harmless as it is possible for a wolf to look. 'This is Warrl,' she said. 'He's my soul-kin and friend, just like in the tales -- a magic beast from the Pelagir Hills. He's wise, and very kind--' she raised one eyebrow with a comic expression '--and he's a lot smarter than I am!'
Warrl snorted, as if to agree, and the children giggled. Their fears evaporated, and they stepped forward to continue their tasks of greeting under their father's approving eye.
The guesting ritual complete, the eldest son -- who looked to be no older than ten, but was a faithful copy of his father in miniature -- led the horses to the stock-shed. It would probably not have been safe to have let him take ordinary battle-trained horses, but these were Shin'a'in bred and trained warsteeds. They had sense and intelligence enough to be trusted unguided in the midst of a melee, yet would no more have harmed a child, even by accident, than they would have done injury to one of their own foals. Just now they were quite well aware that they were about to be stabled and fed, and in their eagerness to get to the barn they nearly dragged the poor child off his feet.
