The Princess and the Horse (The Princess and the Hound) Page 5

  “Do you hate him, then? Lord Ahran?” Fierce watched Red’s face as she waited for his words.

  “Hate him? No. How could I? For all his faults, he took me in when none else would. My parents died when I was a baby. He may not look at me twice in a year. But if not for him, I would have no place to live.”

  So perhaps the man had some good points when it came to other humans, Fierce admitted reluctantly. As Cruel did, in the pack. She was a strong leader, and that kept the pack strong, though Fierce thought there might be other ways to do the same.

  She turned back to the hounds and tried to think what to say next.

  “Go on,” said Red. “You may speak to them as much as you wish. That is why I brought you here.”

  “Tell me of your packs,” she begged the hounds.

  Then for the first time the wolf-hound decided to join the conversation.

  “I had no pack,” said the wolf-hound. “What would I need a pack for?”

  “For companionship. For safety. For the sound of your own language,” said Fierce, who felt very aware of what she missed in her pack now. Just barking the words made her feel hollow inside.

  “I need only the sound of my own voice,” said the wolf-hound. “And I trust no one to protect me except myself.”

  This sounded sad to Fierce, but it was not far from her own situation now. She belonged neither to humans, nor to hounds. Perhaps she could learn from this one what it was to survive without a pack.

  But the long-haired hounds had a different response, and as soon as the wolf-hound had finished with his few words, they spoke eagerly.

  “Our pack had forty hounds in it. We roamed the desert sands. There is nothing like them here. They go on forever, and here there is always something standing in the way. So many creatures,” said the female.

  “More to eat,” said the male. “And more to drink.”

  They went on to tell of the cold desert nights, the taste of an oasis, the sound of danger in the wind, and the feeling of seeing the sun on the backs of the whole pack, sleeping together. It made Fierce’s heart prickle in pain, an ache she had felt distantly before, but felt more keenly now that it was named.

  These two hounds had had more of a pack than she had ever had.

  “What did they say to you? I know they talk to each other about the sun,” said Red as Fierce stood up and found her back was tight from crouching down so long. It had been several hours and she had hardly noticed it, but now she could see the bright noon sun shining down on the ground beyond the door.

  “They come from a desert,” said Fierce.

  “What else?” he asked. But he did not give her a chance to answer. “They liked you instantly. Tell me what you did differently. What they did differently. Anything.” His expression was desperate.

  “I do not know,” said Fierce. And it was true. She did not know how to teach Red to be a hound when he had not been born one.

  He looked away, gray-faced and pinched, for a moment. Then he turned back and swallowed his feelings. “What of the wolf-hound? He will never say a word when he knows I can hear it. But I know he is not mute, for the others bark at him.”

  “I would not trouble yourself too much over that one,” said Fierce, shaking her head. “What he has to say is not worth your time to understand.” She felt little fondness for the wolf-hound, though he should have felt like kin.

  “He said something about me, didn’t he? What is it?”

  “Why do you care what hounds say about you? You are a human.”

  Red rubbed at his face. “I am likely to spend the rest of my life with hounds. I have no human family. Hounds have packs, and they sometimes adopt others. I thought—” Red licked his lips. “It would not be the same as a father and a mother, but it would be something.”

  “I do not think there is anything so wonderful about a father and a mother,” said Fierce coldly, thinking of her own mother. Her father she had no memories of, for he had died when she had been a pup, and her mother had left her alone to fend for herself. Why should she imagine that anyone else had a different experience with parents, even if they were human?

  “I am sorry. I did not mean anything—” stammered Red.

  “And these hounds will never accept you as one of their own,” she said with harsh certainty.

  There was a long moment. Fierce thought that Red would stamp away from her. Instead he said, “What do they say of me? Anything?”

  She sighed and told him the truth. He deserved that much. “They say that you cannot speak like a hound. That you speak like a puppy raised by humans.”

  “A puppy raised by humans. I suppose that is what I am, to them,” said Red and then seemed to laugh. But he kept at it and Fierce thought he was choking. She had seen a hound choking before in the pack and the lead male had leaped on his back and pressed him to the ground. The hound spat up the bit of bone he had choked on and recovered.

  Now Fierce slapped Red hard, and he took in a huge breath, then stared back at her with an astonished look on his face. “You are very strong,” he said. “Thank you.”

  “You are welcome,” said Fierce, trying out the human custom of exchanging favors.

  “I should take you back to the main house now. To eat and dress, and whatever it is they do there.” He made a dismissive motion with his hand.

  It was clear that Red did not spend much time in the house. Fierce rather envied him staying out in the kennels with the hounds all day.

  “The wild magic that you spoke of. What do you know of it? Is it common here?” she asked.

  “Not at all,” he said. “I have never known anyone who has it.”

  Now Fierce hesitated. But at last she asked, “And the Xaon? Do you know of it?” If Lord Ahran would not tell her, perhaps she could find out through others around him.

  Red shook his head. “The Xaon has nothing to do with the magic.”

  “No?” said Fierce, trying not to reveal how excited she was to hear him speak of it so easily.

  “It is part of the beginning of the world. And the end, I suppose.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Fierce, and this was the full truth.

  “The Xaon and the Naon—they are the two forces that are always at war with each other. In the beginning, there were no worlds, no light, no air, no creatures at all. Only the Naon, which is the will to live, and the Xaon, which is its opposite. For eternities, the two fought with each other, and they were equally strong, so there was no change, nothing but war.

  “Then the Naon escaped from the Xaon and created one world, and then another. It created magic and life, and the two together sealed the world against the Xaon, and so it is kept back from devouring us still.”

  “The magic helps to keep it back?” asked Fierce.

  “That is what the magic was made for,” said Red.

  “I did not know that.” Fierce had heard stories of magic in the pack, but she had not asked questions. She had always thought of the magic as the thing which took her mother away, and wanted no part of it.

  “I could tell you of the wild magic, if you would like,” said Red.

  Fierce nodded at him, surprised to see his face close to hers, intent.

  He said, “The wild magic is dangerous because it cannot be controlled, or so they say. Those who use it once begin to use it more and more. They will claim at first that they are using it for a good reason. And perhaps it is a good reason. For the first time, and the second, and the third. And then the reasons begin to slip away, and it is the wild magic that rules. It must be used.

  “There is a restlessness in those who have it. Even if they no longer use the magic to transform their shapes, they have already lost themselves. They can no longer love because they cannot see the ones they once loved as they are. They see only the possibility of magic. The chance to change just this small thing, and that one. It is as if they are being devoured day by day, inch by inch, by some great beast. The wild magic eats them from the inside out, unt
il there is nothing of what once was.”

  Fierce gaped at Red.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “It sounds frightening,” said Fierce, thinking how well his description fit the princess.

  “I did not mean to frighten you,” said Red. “Forgive me?”

  “Of course,” said Fierce. She had wanted the information. But she still did not understand what it was about the princess that had made her feel that the Xaon was so close. Perhaps Red knew more and did not know he knew it. Certainly he was more willing to tell her what he knew that Lord Ahran was. She decided she would stick with him and see what else she might learn.

  Chapter Seven:

  As Red walked Fierce back toward the kitchens, there was a sudden cry behind them. Fierce looked up to see a human woman running toward them, her arms waving frantically.

  “My daughter! My husband!” she called out. “Help! Oh, Lord Ahran, help!”

  When she came closer, Fierce could see her dirty face, streaked with tears, and the tattered hem of her gown. There was also a faint smell on her—of wild magic and the black and white striped horse! She had been near the princess.

  “Where is Lord Ahran? Is he here? Can you bring me to him?” the woman asked brokenly, when she saw Red.

  “Yes. Of course. Follow me,” he said.

  Fierce went inside, as well, and Red led them to the main room with the animal trophies which Fierce had seen already the day before.

  Red excused himself, and Fierce was left alone with the red-eyed woman, but she did not know what to say to help her. She wept and snuffled and murmured to herself about “that woman,” and “my child, my child.”

  Then Lord Ahran walked into the room and the woman began wailing. It looked as if the lord had not been awake long, for his hair was sticking above his ears and there was a crease on his forehead.

  “What is it?” he asked, stifling a yawn.

  “My daughter and my husband. The wild magic,” said the woman, her words running together with emotion. “She took them. I will never see them again. They are lost to me forever.”

  The wild magic? Was it Princess Jaleel again?

  Fierce went cold at the thought. Had the princess decided that she needed another guide?

  Lord Ahran looked up at Red. “Give her something to eat and drink and bring her back when she can speak coherently,” he commanded, and walked away.

  Red led the woman into the kitchen and watched her while she picked at a piece of fresh cooked bread spread with creamy butter. She had some wine to drink, as well.

  When she was calmer, the woman told Red that her name was Sanna. Her husband was Lohin and her daughter Tira.

  “Can you speak to the lord again?” Red asked. “More calmly this time? I am sorry, but the lord must have calm.”

  Sanna nodded, her eyes still dark with fear, her hands still trembling.

  Red put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her, and brought her back to Lord Ahran.

  “You said that there was a woman who had wild magic, yes? Can you describe her?” said the lord. He sounded disdainful, but Fierce could smell the fear in him. He did not want to see the princess again soon.

  “She was tall and dark-haired. She had animals all around her, and a black horse,” said Sanna.

  “And what did this woman do to your husband and daughter, according to your recollection?” asked Lord Ahran.

  “She turned her into a hive of bees and him into a pig with a nose as long as an arm,” she said. She spoke as if afraid she might break out into howling, or whatever it was humans did when they felt great anguish of heart.

  “A pig with a long nose? I do not know of any such animal,” said Lord Ahran. He tilted his head to one side. “Perhaps this was a dream? Or something you saw after drinking too much wine.”

  “No! I saw it done!” Sanna exclaimed. “It was real. It was wild magic, my Lord. And my only family are now gone.”

  “Perhaps,” said Lord Ahran. “But is it not possible that your husband simply ran away?”

  “No! He would never leave me. He loves me.”

  “Perhaps.” Lord Ahran sounded bored. “And your daughter—how old was she?”

  “Fifteen,” said Sanna.

  “Of an age to have her own mind. Is it possible that you had an argument with her shortly before this happened?”

  Sanna’s face went pale and she put a hand to her mouth. “We did!” she said. “I had not thought of it until now. The night before, we argued and now she is gone and I will never be able to tell her how sorry I am. I said she was lazy and she would never find a husband if she acted that way and that I would not work my life to make sure that she had food to eat. How could I say such a thing to my only child? My dearest daughter! She will never come back to me, even if she is made human again.” Sanna’s attempts to control herself were at an end, and she wept uncontrollably.

  “I will consider your words,” said Lord Ahran. “Do you have any witnesses to what you saw?”

  Sanna shook her head, still sobbing.

  “Then I will have to wait to gather my men, and when they are ready and willing, we will see what we can do to help you. But calm yourself. You do your kin no good this way.” He nodded to Red to take the woman away again, then strode out of the room.

  Fierce was left watching the woman collapse on the floor once more.

  “Will he do nothing to help her?” she asked Red.

  “Perhaps, in time,” said Red. There were muscles along his neck bunched hard, which she had never noticed before.

  “And if her kin do not have time?” asked Fierce.

  “He has always been a man to think first, and act later,” said Red.

  Was that what humans were like, then? Fierce wanted nothing to do with it.

  The woman Sanna got to her feet and prepared to leave. Lord Ahran had asked her to stay, but how could she do that when her family was in danger now, at this moment?

  “I cannot bear to see her go unaided,” said Red. “I know what it is like to lose a family.”

  “She needs a pack now to help her,” said Fierce, and to her surprise Red seemed to understand. Though he was a human and she was a hound, they spoke in the same language, from the heart.

  Sanna closed the door behind her and did not look back. Fierce reminded herself of the woman’s smell. She had been reeking of tears and terror. Even as a human, Fierce could follow that scent easily enough.

  “She does,” Red said, smiling. “And I think you and I know about pack, don’t we?”

  Fierce nodded. It was time to return to the princess now.

  “Good. We will need a few things.” Red pulled her back through the kitchen and grabbed a new loaf of bread and thrust it under one arm. Then he took a handful of last year’s apples from the larder in the same arm, while snatching a haunch of raw pork with the other.

  Did he plan to stop long enough to roast the pork or eat it raw? Fierce could manage, used to eating newly killed hunt for herself.

  But Red said with a grin, “All adventurers need trusty companions, yes?” As Fierce wondered what he meant, he headed for the kennels.

  The hounds, thought Fierce. Though Red did not understand that she, too, was only a trusty companion.

  The three hounds in the kennels perked up at the smell of the meat, though it was not as fresh as they would have liked.

  “Hunt,” said Red in the language of the hounds. “Out. Forest. Kill.”

  The wolf-hound turned his back, but the long-haired male and female barked at each other.

  Fierce explained in more careful barks about the princess and the wild magic and Sanna’s family. She unchained the hounds as she spoke.

  “Humans. Why should care about humans?” demanded the wolf-hound.

  “The princess’s wild magic may touch anyone,” she said. “Animal or human.” She did not try to explain about the Xaon. It was too much for hounds.

  “Well,” said the wolf-hound. “It will not touch us
. Not if we are here and she is there.”

  “But how can you be sure she will not come to where you are, in time?” asked Fierce.

  “I would bite her,” said the wolf-hound confidently. He nipped in the air and laughed at himself.

  Fierce was not amused. She bared her teeth and nipped at him. Dull or not, her human teeth cut into his hide and he yelped in surprise.

  “You will do as I say,” said Fierce. “And I say to help find this woman’s family.”

  The wolf-hound lowered its head. Fierce had his obedience now, but nothing else. Not his honor or respect. Not his love. It was a beginning, she supposed, though she felt as if she had transformed herself into Cruel, something she had always promised herself she would not do, no matter the temptation.

  “What are you doing?” asked Red in a whisper.

  Fierce ignored him briefly and turned to the other two hounds. “And you?” she barked at them.

  “If you say that we should do this, we will do it for you,” said the female.

  The male nodded. He followed where his sister led.

  “Thank you. You will not regret this,” said Fierce. But now she felt the responsibility of making those words real. Her mother had led the pack for a time, in better days. Then she had left it, and Fierce, behind.

  Fierce took a deep breath, glaring at the wolf-hound for good measure, and then faced Red. She would not leave her pack as her mother had done. Not for any reason.

  Red reached for her hands and held them warmly in his own. “You spoke to them and told them what we are to do?” he asked, his eyes hinting at other questions that he did not bother with now.

  “Yes,” said Fierce simply. She was tense all over, though, and Red saw it.

  “I will protect you,” he promised. “Do not be afraid.”

  “Thank you,” said Fierce after a long moment, since she thought that it was more likely she would protect him. She was the one who knew the forest, and its animals. She knew the princess. She had already faced the wild magic. And she had nothing left to lose.