She leaned back on the door of the cuddy, letting the cool breeze of movement cool her. Had there ever been a night for the thinking of such thoughts as these? Like some moonstruck girl child, she was savoring her affection for Vandien as if their friendship were new and miraculous. She found herself smiling over his hawk-dark eyes; the fine straight nose; his lips, so mobile when he laughed, so expressive when his soul was touched; his dark and unruly curls, always growing too fast; his soft moustache; and the smell of his body, that even in a sweat reminded her of crushed ferns and sweetgrass. Her heart swelled. Never had she so indulged her fondness for him, letting it sweep away from her thoughts all the inconveniences and dilemmas that their strange partnership heaped upon her. She unwrapped her cherished memories of him, gifting herself with moments when her eyes had caught him silhouetted by her fire, candlelit times in the cuddy when his face glowed damp with the heat of passion, the sensory memory of his shoulder muscles playing under her hands.
Ki swallowed, and sudden tears of longing flooded her eyes. Vandien should be here beside her, and she would finally speak aloud of how she felt. A single tear traced down her cheek. She wallowed in emotional indulgence. Something was happening to her; she didn't know what, but it was a relief to finally empty the secret closets of her heart. The soft night shared and sorted her thoughts, easing her away from worries. She felt healed; but so terribly thirsty.
The hooves of the greys rang hollowly on wood planking. With a sniff and a start, Ki came out of her reverie and realized she was crossing a narrow bridge. This one was as plain and functional as the first had been airy and fantastic. The warhorse wisely dropped back to let the wagon cross before he followed it. Ki looked down onto a larger stream than the first she had crossed; this one verged on being a young river.
On the far side of the bridge, Ki pulled her team and wagon up onto a stretch of rounded gravel. A silence flowed in after the halting of the wagon's creaking. Then in the silence she heard the water'swhispering rush over the gravel riverbed. Shifting stones crunched under the black horse's hooves as he made his way down to the water. At the sight of him drinking, the team tossed their heads impatiently, tugging at the reins Ki still held. Reminded of her duties, Ki jumped down to free them of their harness. She slid the straps from their warm grey backs and the two headed for the river. She walked upriver to drink herself.
Here there were no reflections, no silvery shimmer of mirror water. Here the water rushed and boiled forth over the gravel, foaming and shining in the darkness. She knelt, and suddenly too eager to cup her hands and drink, plunged her face into the water and opened her mouth. The water rushed into it, too fast and powerful to be drunk. She opened her eyes but saw only a silvery bubbling as the swift water washed the weariness from her eyes and filled and refilled her mouth with coolness. Her hair had fallen past her face into the torrent; she felt the tug of it as it streamed with the water. She knelt for a long time, hearing the windy rush of the water only a finger's breadth from her ears, feeling it alive and moving. Then a building pressure in her chest reminded her that she needed air as well as this coolness to survive. Reluctantly she drew her face from the water, to take in a deep breath of the warm night.
Now she cupped her hands full of water and drank deep. Its taste was beyond description; Ki's cares dropped away from her. There was only the joyous heaviness of the water in her body, and then the desire for sleep and rest. It was almost too much trouble to fetch a blanket from the wagon, but she did. She spread it on the gravel by the wheel, doubling it to cushion her back from the rocks. The rush of the river seemed to create its own wind, rich with the smells of water and plants. She teetered on the edge of sleep.
Light footsteps crunched quickly over the gravel. Another time, Ki would have whipped over onto her belly and come to her feet to face the intruder. But another time she would have built her campfire by now, and had food cooking over it, would be indulging in tea, and carefully planning for tomorrow. She would have been fretting over Vandien.
The thoughts trailed off and faded from her mind. So another biped (by the sound of it) had elected to join her; was it not just as simple to assume they were harmless and friendly as to assume otherwise? Ki stretched fractionally, enough to enjoy the feeling without pulling any muscles. She did not speak; neither did her visitor. The steps came closer, quick short steps. Then there came a whicker, but not from her team. It was the black horse, coming eagerly over the gravel to greet the stranger. Ki made the effort of turning her head and opening her eyes.
The warhorse was nuzzling the stranger, rubbing his nose against her shoulder. Ki watched idly. The stranger spoke low to her horse in a tongue Ki did not know, and scratched his favorite spots behind his ears. She was naked and the soft fur of her hide matched the horse's. She was taller than Ki by a head, and twice as wide. Ki guessed at the blackness of her eyes in the moonlight. Her dark scalp hair was swept back from her forehead and over the top of her skull, barely reaching the nape of her stout neck. Ki tried not to stare at the strangeness of her features. The stranger's own eyes were bold on Ki's face, her ears pricked slightly forward. With this sign of focusing, the hair on her skull rose in a crest, with a soft rattling like a porcupine's quills. Ki thought she knew; almost.
'Brurjan,' Ki murmured.
The stranger shook her head and replied in a Common that was only slightly and pleasantly accented. 'Brurjan-Human. I'm a mule.'
And that explained it. It made sense of the soft belly fur that rose almost to the tilted breasts, though the muscular legs were turned more like a cat's than a Human's, and sheathed in more of the soft dark fur,and her feet were small and round like a camel's. As she advanced toward Ki, she set them in the swift, short steps that were typical of the Brurjan. Soft fur cloaked her hips and loins, but her supple back and arms were only slightly more furry than Ki's own, and she was too small to be pure Brurjan, her nose too prominent, her fingers too long. Ki pitied her suddenly, for she could pass for neither Human nor Brurjan. Ki knew of only three other species that could comfortably sustain a sexually companionable relationship with Humans. Yet it was only the Human and Brurjan joining that occasionally resulted in a pregnancy. On the rare event of the child surviving the birth, it was, as she so aptly put it, a mule.
She stood over Ki, looking down on her. Ki returned her gaze calmly. This dark visitor was one with the night, as much as peace as Ki was. She showed no indication of the notorious Brurjan ill humor.
'You're a Human, and from the other side of the Gate.'
Ki nodded.' My name is Ki.'
'Hollyika.'
She turned from Ki and headed to the river. Ki listened to her progress over the stones. The tiny Brurjan steps fell quickly, but covered little distance. Ki's keen ears even picked up the sound of her lapping water. She drank long, and Ki began to doze off. She heard the footsteps return and awoke just enough to see that Hollyika had taken the black horse's saddle blanket from the back of the wagon. She shook it out flat on the gravel beside Ki. They slept.
FIVE
Jace gasped and cowered as Vandien thrust the stubborn door open. But no white sunlight flooded in to scald her; instead there was the still warm air of evening, and beyond the door the shadowy alley and the night sky.
'Thank the gods it is passed,' Jace breathed. She vented her relief in a long sigh. Easing forward, she leaned against the splintery door-frame and peered out. Chess crept forward to peek out under her arm. Their eyes stared up at the strange stars.
'Time to move.' Vandien spoke with satisfaction.' We have a lot to do while this night lasts.' Stooping, he gathered the waterskin and the cloak that Chess had lain on.
His horse was as he had left it. Wadding the cloak into a bundle, he tied it behind the saddle, and added the waterskin. He drew the bridle out of the tangle of dead branches he had hidden it in and began fitting it to the horse's head.
'He does not appear to enjoy that,' Jace said reprovingly as the horse tongued away the bit Vandien tried to force between its jaws.
'This horse never appears to enjoy anything,' Vandien replied dryly as the horse bared yellow teeth at him. 'It's just his nature. He's a master of understatement.'
'I do not find this a matter for levity.' Vandien felt Jace's hand fall light on his arm. Her other hand clutched the bridle firmly. The horse snorted and shifted as Vandien tried gently to free it from her grip.Jace held on, her eyes frightened but determined. The horse took advantage and shied his head free of both of them. Vandien expelled his breath in a rush through his nose. He let the hand holding the bridle fall to his side.
'I take it you do not use beasts for carrying things in your wondrous land beyond the elusive Limbreth Gate.'
'No. We don't.' Jace shrugged off the annoyance in his voice, but Chess's eyes grew wider in the darkness. Vandien's shoulders slumped in defeat. Much as Jace was beginning to irritate him, he would do nothing to give the boy more fear. He plainly expected that Vandien would strike Jace for disagreeing with him. No guessing what he had seen in that tavern.
'Just how the hell do you live over there?' he demanded pettishly as he flung the bridle over the saddle. He stooped to unfasten the tether line.
'We are farmers, most of us. We tend the earth, and harvest what we invite to grow there. From the trees we receive fruit and nuts. From the plants we take the leaves and buds they can spare, and later the seed, fruits and tubers. From our ocean the waves yield to us the salty curling plants of the deep, and bring to us the floating bulbous kelp.'
'You keep no cattle for milk and flesh? No flocks for eggs and meat?'
Jace turned from him in disgust. 'You speak of leading a life founded on the death of innocent creatures.'
'And I suppose the wolves and Harpies of your world graze upon grass or browse upon willow leaves?'
'Wolves rend flesh there, yes, but no sentient being does. When you say Harpies I know not what you mean.'
'Well, Ki will be grateful for that. A world without Harpies would suit her fine. Tell me, Jace, do you condemn the wolf that brings down the deer to feed?'
'A wolf is only a beast. Such is its nature.'