The Silence of Medair Read Free

became more businesslike.  He was still alert, still watching, not ignoring the signals his instincts were sending him merely because no attacker had rushed to take him so before moving she squatted to her heels again and palmed a clutch of walnut-sized stones.
    When she had approached as close as she dared, just as the nearest of the horses was flicking an ear in response to the scent of sweaty human female, she tossed the smallest of the stones far across the clearing.  The Mersian pivoted at the muted impact and Medair took those vital two steps closer.  The horses reacted, snorting and shifting, so she didn't hesitate in sending the rest of the stones up in a high arc, then immediately gripping her weapon with two firm hands.
    Her timing was good.  Moments before she estimated the stones should land she tensed, began the last step forward, swinging the hunk of wood back as the knife reappeared in the Mersian's hand.  He was starting to turn towards her, then there was a thumping patter of stones landing and he hesitated long enough for her to solidly dint his skull, knocking him to the ground.
    Face-down, the man was still groggily conscious, but Medair dropped her weapon anyway, revolted by the idea of hitting him again.  As the horses crowded away from them, she pulled off her black and gold ring and groped in her satchel.  The animal control ring was a small braid of silver, and she jammed it on her pinkie finger, wishing that it were possible to wear two rings at once, wishing this wasn't happening.
    The horses immediately stopped jumping about.  Medair hastily unlooped all but the two donkeys, then hoisted herself up onto a grey.  Questing about with her toe for the other stirrup, she cast one anxious glance back toward her cottage, then led an equine stream away from the dangerous men who had been sent, for whatever reason, to capture her.
    Away from solitude.

 
    ChapterTwo
     
    Medair rode at a speed both reckless and unkind to her mounts, all the way down Bariback Mountain and far along the neglected road toward the forest.  The thought of those five men, of the noise her lump of wood had made colliding with the head of the one called Glyn, was a hound nipping at her heels and she would not stop to do more than water the horses until she was certain they could not catch her that day.  It was only when she had forded the Sorbry River and was faced with the forest that she thought beyond simply 'away'.
    With the sky darkening, and her heart finally easing out of her mouth, Medair looked about for a grassy verge, then stripped the gear from five of the horses and sent them scattering toward the river, impelled by the ring.  Guilty over not having rubbed down their sweating flanks, she lavished attention on the last horse, a sturdy bay, cosseting him and securing a tether while the ring kept him complaisant.  Then she slipped the circle of silver from her finger and replaced it in her satchel.
    The bay immediately sidled away from her, but, as she had hoped, he did not consider her quite so much a stranger any more.  He was more interested in cropping grass than escaping.  Turning her attention to the sky, Medair frowned at the clouds crawling south.  The long-brewing storm wasn't far away: tomorrow, if not that night.  She would get wet before she reached the nearest city, Thrence, nearly three days' ride away.
    More information was what she needed before she began making choices, so she turned to the stolen saddlebags.  Only a small amount of food: most of that must have been on the pack animals.  She had six bedrolls, which guaranteed a relatively comfortable mattress for the night, even without drawing on the resources of her satchel.  Five canteens, various items of male clothing, oddments like little pots of oil and saddle soap.  A scattering of coin minted with the crests of a half-dozen kingdoms.  No insignia at all, no documents, no neatly packaged explanation of who and why and