Season of the Wild Hunt(Book 1 of The Seventh Gate series)

Unruly Tongues - pt2

The company rode in silence, their anxiety palpable. Except for Riordan. Nyani had the strangest impression that he was pleased about something, almost gloating. It made no sense, and she dismissed the notion. The argument in the camp had rattled her badly.

She was more comfortable with the saddle padded, despite their speed, and when she thought on this, realized Murtagh must have prepared it for her even before Kei reached them with the news of the pursuers. Donn glanced over his shoulder several times to check where she was, but her irritation gradually wore off as she was overcome by the sensation of being at one with the mare. Her leg was painful but not unbearable, and the ride had her blood racing with the wind rushing past her face and whipping her braids out behind her.

They rode due east across the hills for the rest of the morning. Donn pushed them as fast as they could go without exhausting the horses beyond recovery, slowing occasionally to let them breathe, and halting only moments for them to drink from a stream as they crossed. By midday, Nyani's mare was tiring. Despite her own increasing discomfort, she sent a trickle of energy into the horse through her legs. The mare put on a burst of speed to pull level with Donn's stallion. Both rider and horse eyed them darkly.

On her other side, Riordan laughed out loud. "Later, please explain to me exactly how you are doing that!"

"Perhaps, if Donn manages to sneak us away from our tail." Somehow, Nyani was sure that he would.

As the day wore into afternoon, though, Nyani had trouble ignoring her wounds, so she tried to breathe deeply and focus on their surroundings instead. The landscape was changing, growing steeper and rougher. Deep gullies cracked the land, and dark conifers clung to the slopes. In the distance, jagged grey mountain peaks raised their heads above the hills.

The sun sank towards the west, warming the riders' backs and throwing long shadows ahead of them. They had turned north again, angling up into the foothills of the mountains, cutting across the spines of the forested slopes. The light under the trees grew dim with evening, but by now Nyani was barely aware of it. The pain had escalated to fiery claws tearing at her leg; her head pounded and her jaw ached from gritting her teeth. In a narrow valley where a stream gurgled over its rocky bed between high banks, they walked the horses into the water and splashed due east up its course. The jolting motion as the mare picked her way over boulders was torturous.

They rounded a sharp turn, and Donn led them out of the water again on the same side they had entered, heading straight up a shale-strewn incline. Nyani barely managed to keep her seat, no longer able to grip with her legs. She repeatedly slipped backwards out of the saddle towards the mare's tail, and then had to shimmy forward again. She knew she could not last much longer. Waves of nausea rose and receded, and a cold sweat broke out on her forehead. Just when she thought she was going to have to speak out, they reached a level shoulder just below the ridge of the hill.

Donn drew his horse up and dismounted. Nyani sat where she was. He walked back to her and without a word, reached up to lift her down. She was far beyond pride and stubbornness by now, her legs shaking uncontrollably. Riordan took the reins of Donn's horse and led it off around a large outcrop of rock.

"Aedan," Donn said quietly, "take her horse."

He carried Nyani around the outcrop and through a split between two massive boulders. Beyond the gap was a shallow, low-ceilinged cave, wide enough to shelter all of them and the horses beneath a rocky roof. It faced back over the way they had come, but was hidden behind the rocks. Above the cave, the pine trees grew to its very edge. It was invisible from below. The rest of the company followed in single file behind them, leading their horses. Donn walked over to one side of the cave and lowered her to a sandy floor.