The Runes of the Earth

selected for herself. She wanted to feel the sun’s consolation on her skin, let its benison warm the fear from her bones. However, her sense of urgency made her restless. Finally she could no longer sit still. She needed movement to help her manage her complex apprehensions. Rising to her feet, she asked Pahni how the Ramen took baths.

Smiling shyly, the Cord led her to one of the shelters, set out a basin of warm water for her, and showed her how to wrap herself in a blanket so that she could remove her clothes and rub away grime and sweat with a soft cloth.

Linden wanted to wash her clothes as well, and her hair, but the chill in the air dissuaded her. She had no way to dry her shirt and jeans quickly, and nothing else to wear. Nevertheless she felt somewhat cleansed, slightly better prepared, when she returned to the clearing.

As Liand rose to greet her, she announced, “Let’s go. I can’t keep putting this off. You should get ready.” Presumably he would want to repack his pinto’s supplies. “I’m going to ask one of the Ramen how to call Hyn.”

She felt a quick surge of tension from the Stonedownor, which he made no attempt to conceal. Yet he promised at once, “I will be swift. I need only request viands from the Ramen and tend to Somo’s burdens.”

Smiling anxiously, he hastened away.

Linden tightened her grip on herself as she looked around for someone who might answer her question.

She expected to find Bhapa, Pahni, or Char hovering somewhere nearby, but the first person she saw was Stave. He stood just outside the clearing, watching her as if he had expected her to notice him earlier.

He would know how to summon the Ranyhyn.

She did not want to talk to him, but she forced herself to cross the bare dirt toward him. When he had acknowledged her with a nod, she said severely, “You should be in bed. You need rest. Your hip needs rest. If you don’t stay off your feet for at least the next three days, you’ll be in pain for weeks.”

Even his Haruchai strength could not shrug off what had happened to him.

But he ignored her admonition. “I have not yet departed,” he replied, “because I hoped that you would turn from your intent. However, it has become plain that you will not. I will delay no longer.”

Nodding once again, he limped out into the clearing. His damaged hip seemed to leave a groan in the air as he passed.

Involuntarily, Linden followed him. “Stave, stop. You can’t ride like this. Even you can’t. Be reasonable, for God’s sake.

“Your people are too far away. They can’t respond in time. It won’t make any difference if they don’t hear from you for a few more days.”

Stave said nothing; but he cast her a look of such disdain that she winced and fell silent. Then he put his fingers to his mouth and whistled shrilly.

For an instant, the distant birds ceased their cries, and the air itself seemed to go still, hushed with expectation.

Again Stave whistled. Suddenly Ramen crowded the rims of the clearing as if he had summoned them instead of the Ranyhyn.

A third time, his whistle pierced the sky. Now Linden felt an answering tremor under her boots; a shiver of excitement in the ground. Whinnying like the clarion call of trumpets rose above the grass-muffled rumble of hooves.

From the south and the mountains, two Ranyhyn came galloping, proud as flame in the warming day.

Linden would not have recognised them. With Stave beaten and dying in her arms the previous night, she had hardly regarded the great horses; had noticed only the stars on their foreheads and the visceral impact of their power. She assumed, however, that these were Hynyn and Hyn, come in response to Stave’s call.

Both of them answered, although only Hynyn had accepted him.

In spite of their size, the beasts seemed to flow as fluidly as oil between the shelters of the Ramen. When they neared the circle of open ground, however, the smaller of the two, a mare with grave eyes and dappled grey flanks, slowed her pace, trotting to a halt among the gathered Ramen. Her companion, a roan stallion with a regal tail and an air of hauteur, cantered into the clearing to stand before Stave.

The Master greeted Hynyn with a deep bow. When he had raised his head again, he pronounced softly, “Hail, Ranyhyn! Land-rider and proud-bearer.” His voice had a timbre of invocation and ritual; formal respect which his people had not uttered for thousands of years. “Sun-flesh and sky-mane, I am glad that you have heard my call. An urgent journey lies before me. Will you bear me?”

In response, the stallion shook his mane as if in denial, although he stood ready to be mounted.

Stave appeared to hesitate. He glanced around at the assembled Ramen; but their frank adoration revealed nothing except that the Ranyhyn were revered.

Linden frowned. Had Hynyn and Hyn answered Stave’s call only to refuse him? Both of them-?

Stave twitched one shoulder, a slight shrug. Favouring his damaged hip, he gathered himself and vaulted up onto Hynyn’s back. In spite of his pain, he seemed entirely at home astride the Ranyhyn; mounted where he belonged.

Hynyn tossed his head as if to welcome his rider. The Ramen watched, transfixed and disturbed by the sight. Stave had said that the defeat of the Bloodguard had tarnished the fidelity of the Ramen. He may have been right.

Leaning forward, he murmured softly to Hynyn. Again the stallion shook his head and did not move. Stave nudged at Hynyn’s sides with his heels: Hynyn flattened his ears and set his legs. To Linden’s inexperienced eyes, the stallion seemed ready to buck.

Uncharacteristic uncertainty creased the Master’s brows. As if to all of the Ramen, he announced, “Hynyn will not bear me.”

From the edge of the clearing, Manethrall Dohn replied, “You are mistaken, sleepless one. Hynyn has accepted you. However, he does not consent to your intent. He will not bear you where you wish to go.”

Stave’s mien darkened. As far as Linden knew, no Haruchai had ever been both accepted and refused. The Master may have been shocked. And without Hynyn to bear him, he would have to return to Mithil Stonedown on foot.

How far would his stubbornness carry him with a wounded hip?

“What now, Bloodguard?” Mahrtiir asked with sardonic satisfaction. “Will you cleave to the purposes of the Masters? Or will you honour the will of the Ranyhyn? Consult your arrogance. Surely it will not mislead you.”

Stave turned a threatening scowl toward the Manethrall. “You are a fool,” he pronounced distinctly. “There is no contradiction. No Ranyhyn has ever refused to serve its rider. For the sake of all the Land, the Masters must learn what this refusal portends.”

A sarcastic rejoinder flashed in Mahrtiir’s eyes, but he bit it back.

Manethrall Dohn ignored both men. For a moment, he studied the daylight as it filled the vale. Then he announced, “Ringthane, Hyn is here as well, though you did not summon her. She also will not bear you where you wish to go. Nonetheless she desires to bear you.

“Will you not mount?”

Quickly Linden looked around for Liand and Anele. She would be lost without the old man; and she had already told Liand that he could accompany her.

Will not bear you-

Anele was nowhere to be seen. After a brief search, however, she spotted Liand among the Ramen, holding Somo by the pinto’s halter.

– where you wish to go.

Anxious for reasons which she could not have put into words, she turned to face Hyn.

As soon as Linden met her gaze, the mare trotted forward.

Studying the beast, Linden groaned to herself, Oh, God. I can’t ride that. Hyn was too big: Linden’s head barely reached her shoulder. And Linden was no horsewoman. If she fell from that height- and in motion-