dagger move.
The man smiled, obviously impressed. Pony came on suddenly, a lunge and thrust that became a sideways slap that sent his sword wide, followed by another quick step forward, Defender's tip coming ahead briefly, then angling down, parrying his dagger parry before it could begin.
The man was quick, though, and he brought his sword back in, recovering from his surprise, and went on the sudden forward attack.
But the sword dance was flowing mightily through Pony, filling her with a joy she had feared she would never know again. On came Liam's sword thrust and dagger thrust, but Pony skittered back, her legs working fast, her upper body hardly moving at all, in perfect balance.
Liam came on even farther, seeing that she was running out of room, with a clump of birch trees close behind.
Pony backed right up to them, and as her opponent closed, she came forward with a thrust-a measured thrust, for she ended it abruptly, her left hand catching hold of the birch behind her, all her momentum shifting suddenly, so that she spun around the bending tree.
'Well done,' her opponent congratulated her. But before he even finished his salute, sword to forehead, he had to launch his weapon out in a desperate parry, for Pony leaped through the birch tangle and came on once again-thrust, thrust, thrust.
He parried each stroke in succession, barely, and now found himself backing fast, and with far less balance than Pony had shown.
She pressed her advantage, rushing forward, sword stabbing for his belly, for his chest, for his face, and then his belly again, and with his using both his weapons frantically to fend off her blows.
Now her momentum had seemingly played out, and she should have retreated into a defensive stance again, but she did not, instead coming forward even more aggressively.
It appeared as if she had erred, and her opponent, obviously no novice to battle, took the initiative and the offensive, easily parrying one unbalanced thrust and reversing his footing, coming forward fast, sword leading, dagger following in two commanding thrusts that hit…
Nothing.
And Liam stopped, stunned, for in his flurry he had blocked his own vision and now he couldn't even locate his opponent!
Then he felt the tip of a sword against the back of his neck, just under his head, and he froze in place.
'I would call that an advantage!' Andacanavar roared. Liam dropped sword and dagger and shrugged.
'No blood, I pray,' he said to Pony as she walked by, staring intently into her deep blue eyes.
'It will heal,' she promised, and she sheathed Defender and moved beside the ranger.
He nodded approvingly.
'Nightbird gave you a great gift,' he remarked.
Pony nodded her agreement, for right then, feeling that tingling power ol the sword dance coursing through her, she gained an even greater appreciation of the gift.
'Was that all he taught you? ' Andacanavar asked.
Pony looked at him, not understanding. How could she begin to list all the things that she and Elbryan had taught each other, or had learned together?
'Your hesitance alone answers my question,' the ranger said. 'He did not teach you, and so I shall. Tomorrow.'
Pony looked at him skeptically.
'Trust me on this, woman,' the ranger bade her. 'You will find more than you expect, I promise.' He paused and held Pony's stare for a long time, while her expression went through skepticism and trepidation and then into some measure of hopefulness.
'Tomorrow?' he asked again.
'Early,' Pony promised, and she gathered her things and took up Greystone's reins and walked away.
'A remarkable woman,' Andacanavar's companion, who was not Liam O'Blythe, remarked as Pony and Greystone disappeared into the forest.
'Skilled and determined, and a feast for a man's eyes,' the ranger replied, looking down at his friend. 'I told you last night that she would beat you, and easily.'
'Brother Dellman described her as beautiful,' the ranger's companion remarked, 'and I do not think that our friend Dellman makes that observation often of women.'
'His words could not begin to tell the whole truth other,' Andacanavar replied, and he gave his companion a sly look. 'Beauty enough to make any man swoon.'
'And are you not a man? ' came the next question.
'Too old for her, but I'm thinking that she is about your own age.'
The man, so easily defeated in the sword fight, only shrugged and smiled.
'Was that good enough for you?' Andacanavar called out to their newest companion, as Bradwarden trotted into the grove, though he stayed the proper distance from the humans, as centaur law demanded in times of the plague.
'She left with a smile,' the centaur admitted, 'one I've not seen on that beautiful face o' hers in a long while.'
'Rangers have a way of doing that to beautiful women,' Andacanavar said with a wink.
'Her pain's deep,' the centaur remarked seriously.
'And tomorrow it might be deep again,' Andacanavar replied, 'for she will be meeting her lover again. It will hurt, no doubt, but it is a pain she is needing.'
'I wouldn't've asked for yer help if I didn't think ye'd be helpin',' Bradwarden said. 'And glad we are that you did,' said the ranger's companion. The tone of his voice, wistful, even enchanted, made Bradwarden and Andacanavar look at each other and wink knowingly.
'I see it all the time,' the centaur mumbled to Andacanavar.
Once again, Pony found her dreams filled with pleasant memories of her lover, of sword dancing and making love, of long walks in the forest or just sitting and talking on a bare hillock, hearing Bradwarden's song.
She awoke in a fine mood and once again rushed through her chores and out of Dundalis, riding Greystone as hard as the trails would permit back to the sheltered grove.
She found Andacanavar there alone, waiting for her, but she found that Bradwarden was not far away, for his piping filled the crisp winter air with warming notes.
'When I hear the centaur's song, it feels like Elbryan is still with me,' Pony said wistfully. 'He and I used to listen to that song when we were children, living in Dundalis.'
'He is still with you!' Andacanavar roared. 'Of course he is!' He looked all about, as if expecting a ghost to materialize nearby, and then a curious expression appeared on his face. 'Did he not teach you anything of the other gift? ' he asked. 'The more important gift of the Touel'alfar? '
Pony looked at him curiously.
'Oracle,' Andacanavar explained.
Pony nodded; she should have known. 'He once tried,' she explained, 'that I might better contact the spirit of another friend lost to us. But I did not need it, for Avelyn was with me at that time. I could feel it.'
'But now you need it.'
Again Pony fixed him with a skeptical and curious expression.
'You do not believe that Nightbird, your Elbryan, is still with you,' Andacanavar explained. 'You are not even certain that he has found the next level of existence, or even if such a level truly exists. Oh, yes, Avelyn was with you, you say, but was it really his spirit, or was it just your own hopes and memories of him? '
Pony stared at him hard, feeling uncomfortable suddenly, feeling as if his words were a bit too intimate.
'That is your fear, I say,' the ranger declared. 'And because of it, you cannot get past your mourning.'
'You assume much.'
'I read well,' Andacanavar corrected. 'And the message is clear upon your face whenever you speak of Elbryan.' He dusted the snow off his pant legs and stood up, bending and holding out his hand to Pony. 'Come,' he said. 'Let me show you the other gift of the Touel'alfar, the one that will free you.'
'LadyDasslerond-' 'Is not here, now is she?' Andacanavar replied. 'And if she allows you to live with the
