Kelven's Riddle: The Mountain at the Middle of the World Page 16

  “I think we should go up into the trees on the ridge, my lord.”

  Florm looked up. “Why is that, Aram?”

  “Something is coming—we need to find a more defensible position.”

  Aram could hear Florm’s laughter ring inside his head.

  “Actually, my friend, two somethings are coming. They are my son, Thaniel, and my nephew, Jared. You have impressive ears, Aram. They are at least five miles away and won’t be here for another ten minutes or so.” Florm lowered his head and returned to his breakfast.

  So, Aram was to meet two more horses. He quickly ate and cleaned up the campsite. Ten minutes later the rumbling of hooves filled the close air of the meadow and two magnificent horses appeared from the east and galloped to Florm, bowing their heads low. Florm acknowledged them and they communed together a few minutes. Their conversation was closed to Aram. The two newcomers looked at him occasionally during the course of their communion and when it was ended Florm opened his mind and spoke to Aram.

  “Aram, if you please, come and meet some of my family. This fellow,” Florm indicated with a look the large, dark horse on his right, “is my son, Thaniel.”

  Thaniel nodded slightly to Aram. Aram bowed. Thaniel was a tall and solid beast, muscular and imposing. He was a bit taller than Florm and, if anything, blacker, though with a small, diamond-shaped blaze of white in the middle his forehead.

  “And this is my sister’s son, Jared.” Florm indicated the second horse. Aram and the horse acknowledged each other. Jared was also muscular but somewhat rangier than the others and his coat was a deep rich brown.

  “I am honored to meet you both.” Aram said and then he stepped away to gather up his stray arrow points and to give the horses privacy.

  Thaniel followed him. “My father has told me of your great service to us in saving his life. I thank you. I am in your debt. Florm is a great lord—the lord of all horses. We are all in your debt.”

  “With due respect,” Aram replied. “There is no debt. I am honored to have been of service to such a great person but I would have saved anyone from the wolves in the same circumstance.”

  The great black horse was silent for a moment and it seemed to Aram that he was quietly distressed about something. After another moment’s hesitation, Thaniel said, “My father has informed me that he intends to honor you by bearing you where you will. This is a great honor, indeed. But I must ask that you allow me to stand in the place of the Lord of Horses. My father has not borne a man on his back since the ancient kings were in allegiance with us. If you will forgive my bluntness, it would be unseemly. And, he needs time to recover. If you will allow it, I will bear you wherever you wish to go.”

  Aram instantly understood the reason for the horse’s discomfort but it was for nothing. He had no intention of riding the great horse anywhere.

  “Sir, I am honored. But the things that I have to do, now that you are here to guard your father’s wellbeing, I must do alone. I need no bearing. Thank you for your offer but I prefer the use of my own two feet.”

  Aram turned away, a bit rudely perhaps; but he found himself nonplussed and irritated at Thaniel’s seeming humiliation that a mere man had rescued his father. But Aram was unfamiliar with the ways of free people, let alone horses, and he didn’t wish for any more entanglements in his life anyway. Let horses and all others be as they would. He had wolves to kill.

  He gathered the rest of his arrow points and checked his supplies. He still had twenty arrows and his spear so there was no immediate need to re-supply his weaponry. He glanced toward the horses. They were standing together near the stream. As the sun peered over the eastern horizon, Aram secured his campsite and slipped away over the wooded hill to the north.

  All that day he hunted out from the meadow in concentric circles, searching for wolves. Finally, late in the day, on one of the long wooded ridges between two streams to the northeast of the meadow, he found the tracks of a large pack of at least ten animals. The trail led northwest into the timbered hills and while it had been made that day was too cold to follow at such a late hour. But now he had quarry for the morrow.

  He got back to camp just at twilight, intending to eat and go straight to bed so he could arise early and hunt due north in the morning, hoping to catch the pack coming down out of the hills at sunrise. The three horses were there, grazing near the stream. Florm still moved painfully and with a fair amount of stiffness, so in the fading daylight, Aram approached and sought permission to examine his wounds.

  The great horse was healing fine, however, even on the hind leg where he’d had the swelling, but it would be some time before he was fully mobile and recovered enough to travel any distance.

  “Do I need to scatter my arrow points, tonight, my lord?” Aram asked. He was anxious that nothing should delay his departure in the morning.

  Florm chuckled. “Nothing will get past the ears of these youngsters. I doubt much would get past yours, either, my friend. Did you find your wolves today?”

  Aram nodded. “A large pack with several mature animals a couple of miles north. I’m going after them tomorrow.”

  Florm stared thoughtfully out into the deepening twilight. “Long ago, they answered to Kelven and his laws, as did all living things, but Manon touched them with his evil. It is very sad. Our two peoples used to talk, once upon a time; we shared the earth in peace and settled any disputes we had with civility. Horses were never their natural prey. Now, they slaughter our colts, and our mares and sometimes even stallions are killed defending their young.”

  The great horse sighed. “It is Manon’s doing. I have often wished that the evil of Manon could be undone.”

  Aram shrugged. “Maybe someday it will be. But one thing at a time, my lord. For now, we must protect your people.” He frowned and looked at Florm. “My lord, I know of Manon, but who is Kelven?”

  “Long ago, it was Kelven that ruled all living things besides men, as well as the air and the water and trees and all plants. In the great war, he fought with us against Manon, but Manon triumphed. Kelven has not been seen upon the earth since that time. This is one of those things that, when I am stronger, I will tell you in full, for it touches upon the history of your people, especially of those that dwelled in the city of stone.” Florm looked at him and spoke with solemn intensity. “Thaniel is right, you know. The debt is on our side, you only increase what we owe with your deeds.”

  “Nonsense, my lord,” Aram shook his head impatiently. “I know that your people are greater than mine, and I am certainly one of the least of all my people. Thaniel need not point this out in order for me to know that it is true. But despite the differences in our stations, is there any chance for friendship between you and me?”

  “It already exists.”

  “Then that is why I will kill your wolves. For friendship’s sake. There is no debt. Goodnight, my lord.”

  Aram laid out his bedroll at the base of the rock outcropping where he had an unobstructed view of the meadow. He believed Florm about the keenness of the horses’ ears, but he had long ago learned that there was great value in not being careless.

  XI

  The next day, he accomplished something that he’d never done but had anticipated since the creation of his bow. As he had hoped, he found the wolf pack coming down out of the hills onto the plain about an hour after sunrise, running nearly single file along a streambed. Aram was concealed in a stand of thick firs on a gentle ridge to the south. As they came opposite him, he dropped one at about the middle of the pack with an arrow.

  Instantly, the others were upon the fallen wolf, tearing at its flesh in a frenzy of bloodlust. As always, Aram was repulsed by the barbaric, unnatural behavior. Quickly, he felled three more. By this time, the wolves were confused at the quick, inexplicable deaths occurring among their ranks and began tearing around their fallen comrades in confused fury, howling and yapping.

  In the midst of their confusion, Aram easily killed them all, eleven in to
tal. When they had all fallen, he went down and dispatched those that were still living with his sword and recovered a few undamaged arrows from the bodies of the dead. He’d dropped them all with his bow, not once engaging in single combat. A sense of mastery over their kind grew within him. After making sure that they were all dead, he dragged the heavy bodies away from the running water so that the vultures could do their work without the stream being polluted.

  As he was washing his arrows in the stream and watching the meadows and hillsides about him for danger, he spotted Thaniel and Jared observing him from the ridge top. He met the horses’ gaze for a moment and then they turned away and went toward the south out of his sight.

  That day he ranged further north into the corrugated grasslands, turning east when he found the tracks of another pack of wolves, only five or six this time, all adults. He trailed them eastward until the sun began to slide toward the hills then turned back to camp.

  It was fully dark when he returned to camp, and the horses were out in the meadow, so he unrolled his bed near the rocks and went to sleep. At dawn, he was again on the move, heading northeast. At noon, he crossed the tracks of the wolf pack and turned east to follow them at a sprint. Three hours later, he caught them lying in the shade of a stand of pine trees, sleeping off the effects of a kill of two deer, a doe and a fawn. There were six wolves in all.

  Pulling his sword, he ran in among them, slaying two instantly before they could rise and wounding a third. The other three pounced but he was ready, sidestepping to the right, nearly severing the massive head of the lead wolf, whirling and catching another in midair, running his sword deep into its guts. The remaining wolf, smaller than the others, turned and fled. Aram started to give chase, but the wolf was too swift for him and he didn’t want to risk spending more arrows. He killed the wounded wolf and then turned southwest toward the meadow. It was already late and he needed to find a stand of ironwood to replenish his arrows.

  Searching along all the streams as he went, he found a young, tall stand of the necessary saplings toward evening, within a mile of camp. As he was gathering enough to replace the arrows he’d lost the day before, once again he saw Thaniel and Jared trotting parallel to his line of march toward camp.

  Later, as he was sitting in camp fletching the new batch of arrows, the horses approached and watched him for a while in silence.

  “That is an ancient and amazing skill,” Florm remarked finally. “One that I have not seen practiced in some time. Where did you learn it?”

  Aram glanced up. “There are old drawings on the walls of my armory. I experimented until I discovered how to make it work. And I tried many different kinds of wood for bows and arrows until I found the right ones.”

  “Remarkable.” Florm stepped forward. “We would like to speak with you, Aram.”

  Aram laid his work aside, stood up, and looked at him expectantly.

  “My son spoke in haste the other day,” Florm said. “He is used to the way things have been for thousands of years now. No horse has borne a man upon his back in all that time. It is often difficult to recognize the winds of change. But they are blowing.

  “Jared and Thaniel have observed you at your work, Aram, and they recognize now that you are a great warrior and that you seek no reward for meting justice. But they also see that you are limited in the amount of ground that you can cover in a day. The foaling grounds of our people are very far away and are overrun with wolves. It is vital to us that those grounds be protected. We have an offer.”

  Aram stood in silence, waiting. He recognized the superior rank of the horses to his own station upon the earth especially that of the ancient and honorable Florm, but he intended to do no more groveling in the course of his life so he waited for them to tender their offer unsolicited. Thaniel stepped forward beside his father.

  “My father is now able to make his way to the summer camps of our people.” He said. “Jared will go with him to guard him on the way. I offer my back to carry you where you will to destroy our enemies. I will bear you gladly and will fight with you. Afterward, I will carry you wherever you wish to go. Will you accept?”

  Aram looked down for a moment in surprised silence and considered it. The range that could be covered by a strong, fast horse would certainly solve his problems of distance. And he intended to free this land of its scourge of wolves—mostly just because it was the right thing to do but also because he now wished to cement a friendship with Florm and his people. But he had told Thaniel the truth when he said he preferred the use of his own feet. He looked up.

  “I have never ridden. I’m afraid I would be a cumbersome burden.”

  “I will help you,” Thaniel replied. “We will practice in the meadow for as long as is necessary, if you agree.”

  Aram studied the ancient face of Florm for a moment and then bowed to Thaniel in decision. “Thank you, I accept. Together we can speed the work of ridding your land of wolves.”

  For three days, Aram rode the great horse around the meadow, learning to leap upon the great back and ride while holding on to the mane. After he was comfortable, he practiced shooting from the horse, first as it was standing, then trotting, and finally, with it running at great speed. He practiced shooting to his right and then to the left with the bow while holding his spears in readiness across his lap.

  A day after they all agreed that Aram was ready, they parted, Florm and Jared going off to the southeast and Aram and Thaniel to the northeast, toward the foaling grounds.

  As if they’d been in league all their lives, the two of them became efficiently deadly. As the summer waxed and then began to wane, they slew dozens of wolves, destroying pack after pack, hunting ever further eastward across the vast country of the horses. Aram found it exhilarating, riding into the wind and the heat of battle astride the great thundering black beast. Thaniel communicated very little, but Aram was used to silence and they seemed to have an unspoken understanding of what each expected of the other.

  In battle, they were seamless, moving together as one killing machine. Thaniel was a powerful animal and extremely quick. He would charge directly at a wolf pack while Aram let arrows fly. At the last minute, Thaniel would plunge left or right and Aram would lean out and deal death with his sword. Then they would run down those that tried to flee. None escaped.

  Usually, except for dispatching the wounded, Aram did all his killing from horseback, much of it with the bow. At times, though, they would discover that a pack was filing down through a narrow, rough ravine where there was no room for the horse to maneuver and then he would instruct Thaniel to remain behind while he went down and fought at the level of the wolves. He had developed a preference for joining battle with the bow but sometimes, in thick growth or along very narrow draws, it was all sword work.

  In one such ambush, Aram spied a pack loping down a narrow steep-sided defile. It was a large group of sixteen, something rarely seen. The defile was too close to risk mounted combat so Aram had Thaniel remain at the top of the ridge hidden in the trees while he went alone into the bottom where two spires of rock rose about twenty feet into the air a few feet apart. There was a space between them that would allow Aram to fight at close quarters while only defending two narrow openings, one to either side.

  He waited, hidden in a cleft of one of the spires, until some of the wolves had gone past then attacked. He plunged the sword into the side of a great wolf running past and the battle was joined. They came at him from both sides but he spun one way and then the other, his sword quick and sure. The wolf pack circled him and plunged in at perceived opportunities but Aram was too fast and efficient. When it was over, dead and dying wolves surrounded him and yet he was nearly unscathed. Thaniel, watching this display from the top of the bluff, thought to himself not for the first time that this man must be very like those warriors of old of which his father often spoke.

  Eastward, across the northern half of the high plains, they hunted and battled, crisscrossing the region between
the mountains on the north and the winding river that flowed gently from west to east at the middle of the highlands. While many streams drained the grasslands of the horses, generally flowing eastward, this river, though not very grand in any sense of the word, was the largest of them all.

  One day, on the gentle slope that rose above this stream to the north, while chasing a pack of fleeing wolves, they entered suddenly into an area of rough, bumpy, and rocky ground spotted with small patches of stunted brush and twisted, dead trees. Thaniel swerved suddenly, nearly unseating Aram and charged down toward the river, quickly exiting the unusual landscape.

  When Aram had righted himself and Thaniel had plunged through the shallow river to the far side, he tugged on the horse’s mane, bringing the animal to a halt. As Thaniel stood uneasily, snorting and wheezing from the sudden exertion, Aram turned and studied the odd ground across the river for a few moments. Then he looked down at the back of Thaniel’s head.

  “What troubles you, my friend?”

  Thaniel swung his great head around and looked north, at the broken, lumpy ground, its trees all dead or seriously stressed and its scattered bunches of grass yellowed and withered though everywhere else across the highlands the lush green of summer possessed the land. The broad area of distressed earth stretched for three or four miles along the top of the rise.

  “That is where the old world ended,” the horse said simply.

  Aram felt his heart constrict and his eyes widen as he gazed across at the wounded landscape. “I don’t understand.”

  Thaniel blew great flecks of foam from his nostrils. “That is the battlefield where the ancient king Joktan fell, and his army with him. It is where Manon, the enemy of the world, cut him down, ending the age of kings. It is a place of evil.” The great black horse was silent for a moment and then he spoke softly, almost reverently. “My grandfather and his father were alive then.”