Hawkmistress!

  Every day, Romilly worked first with the other horses, who were simpler to handle because they were less intelligent; they seemed to have less initiative. Sunstar she saved as a reward for herself at the end of a long morning of working with the other horses, directing her assistants in exercising them and personally supervising their gaits and the speed with which they had been broken to saddle and riding gear. She knew that she was only one of the army horsetrainers in Serrais who had been engaged by Carolin to produce the cavalry for his armies - she saw some of the others, sometimes, come out from the city of Serrais and working on the plains. But she would have been a fool not to know that her horses were trained fastest and best.

  Now, at the near end of a long morning, she walked around her little domain, with a pat and a touch on the nose, blissful moment of emotional rapport with each of her horses. She loved every one, she felt the bittersweet knowledge that soon she would have to part with them; but every one of them would carry some of herself wherever Carolin's armies might ride. Touch after touch, a hug around a sleek neck or a stroking of a velvety nose, and each moment of rapport building her awareness higher, higher yet, till she was dizzied with it, with the sense of racing in the sun, the awareness of running at full stretch on four legs, not two, the mastery of the burden of the rider with its own delight, and somewhere at the back of her mind Romilly felt as if each of these beasts bearing its rider knew something of the inward lightness of the Bearer of Burdens who, said in the writings of the sainted Valentine, bore alone the weight of the world. She was each horse in turn, knowing its rebellions, its discipline and submission, the sense of working in perfect unity with what was allotted to it.

  Blurrily, she thought, perhaps only horses know what true faith may be as they share with the Bearer of Burdens . . . and yet I, only human, have been chosen to share and to know this. ... it was easier to be carried away in union and rapport with the horses than with hawks or even the more brilliant sentry-birds, because, she thought, horses had a keener intelligence. The birds, sensitive as they were, blissful as it was to share the ecstasy of flight, still had only limited awareness, mostly focused in their keener eyesight. The sensual awareness was greater in the horses because they were more organized, more intelligent, a human style of awareness and yet not quite human.

  And now at the end of her morning, when the other horses had been led away, she brought out Sunstar from his place. He worked so closely with her now that a bare word summoned him, and a part of her flooded out in love, she was the horse, she felt the saddle slipped over her own back as she caressed the leather straps of it, she was in a strange doubled consciousness.

  She did not know whether she climbed into the saddle or accepted the grateful weight on her own back. Part of her was sunk joyously into her own body awareness, but that was all swallowed up in the larger consciousness of striding free, racing with the wind ... so balanced, so fused into the horse that for a long time she was hardly aware of which was herself, which Sunstar. Yet for all the blurring she felt she had never been so precisely and wholly herself, flooded with a kind of reality she had never known. The heat of the sun, sweat streaming down her flanks, her exquisite leaning to balance from above the weight she felt from below, from within. Time seemed divided into infinitesimal fragments, to each of which she gave its true weight, with no thought of past or future, all gathered up into the absolute present.

  And, then, regretfully, she came back and separated herself from Sunstar, sliding down at the paddock rail, falling against him and flinging her arms around his glossy neck in an absolute ecstasy of love, wholly giving, wholly aware. It needed no words. She was his; he was hers; even if they never again knew this ecstasy of consummation, this delicious flooding delight, if she never mounted him again nor he raced with her toward an endless plain of oblivious pleasure, they would always, in some part of their being, be fused together; this moment was eternal and would go on happening forever.

  And then, with faint regret - but only faint, for in her exalted state she knew that all things had their proper moment and this one could not be prolonged too far - she let herself slide down another level of awareness and she was Romilly again, giving the horse's silken shoulders a final pat of love and leading him, separate now but never far, to his own paddock. She could hardly feel her feet beneath her as she walked back toward the hostel, but she felt distinct annoyance at Clea's friendly voice.

  "How beautiful he is - is that is the black stallion they told me about? Is he too fierce, will they have to turn him out to stud again?" Then alerted by something in Romilly's face, she asked, "You - you've been riding him?"

  "He is gentle as a child," said Romilly absently. "He loves me, but a child could ride him now." Absurdly, she wished she could give this beautiful creature over to Caryl, who would surely love him as she did, for he had more than a trace of her own kind of laran. Since she could not keep this imperial creature herself, it would be finest if he could go to that sensitive boy. Who was, she reminded herself with a sharp coming-down-to-earth, the son of Lyondri Hastur and her sworn enemy. "What did you want, Clea?"

  "I was coming to speak to you about your unarmed-combat lesson," the other woman said, "but on the way I met with Jandria, who says that you have been sent for again to the king's camp; you are to work with sentry-birds, I hear. You are to take all your things; you will not be coming back here, I understand."

  Not coming back? Then she must say farewell to Sunstar even sooner than she had believed. But in her aware state she knew it really did not matter. They would always be part of one another. For now she was to be mistress of hawks to Carolin's armies - she did not stop to think how she knew that - and she, like Sunstar, must carry her appointed share of the world's weight. She said, "Thank you, Clea. And thank you for everything, all you have taught me."

  "Romy, how your eyes shine! It has been a pleasure to teach you; it is always a pleasure to teach anyone who is so apt and quick to learn," Clea said, and hugged her with spontaneous warmth. "I am sorry to lose you. I hope you come back to our hostel some day, but if not, we will meet at another. Swordswomen are always travelling and we are sure to come across one another somewhere on the roads of the Hundred Kingdoms."

  Romilly kissed her with real warmth and went into the hostel to pack her few possessions.

  By the time she was finished, she found Jandria in the hallway ready to ride, she too bearing a rolled pack with all her possessions.

  "I had Sunstar brought out," Jandria said, "The other horses are being brought along later in the day; but you have spent so much time, and so much love, on this one, that I thought you should have the privilege of handing him over yourself to King Carolin."

  So it has come quicker than I thought. But after this morning, Sunstar and I will always be one.

  He did not take kindly to the leading rein; Romilly wished that she could ride him herself, but that was not suitable for a horse to be presented to the king. She soothed him in soft words with her voice, and even more, with the outreaching of contact, so that, guided by her soothing flood of tenderness and reassurance, he came along, docile, feeling her concern and her touch guiding him.

  You are to be a king's mount, did you know that, my beauty?

  The contact between them needed no words; it meant nothing to Sunstar, who knew nothing of kings, and Romilly knew that while he might, and probably would, come to love and trust Carolin, no other would ever ride Sunstar with that same sense of close oneness with the horse. Suddenly she felt sorry for Carolin. The beautiful black stallion might be his. But she, Romilly, would always own him in both their hearts.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  There was a subtly different feel to the army camp today. The great central tent where the Hastur banner had flown was being pulled down by what looked like a horde of workmen, there was confusion coming and going through the length and breadth of the camp. Leaving Sunstar with Jandria and the others who had come to help her with the stallion, Romilly hurried
off to the bird-handlers quarters. She found Ruyven there, fussing with the perches installed for the sentry-birds atop pack-animals. The chervines, disliking the carrion smell that clung to the birds, were stamping restlessly and moving around with little, troubled snorts and pawings.

  "I imagine," Romilly said, "that this all means that the army is about to move southward and I am to go with you."

  He nodded. "I cannot handle or fly three birds alone," he said, "and there is not another qualified handler for these sentry-birds within a hundred leagues, except, God help us, for the ones who may be among Rakhal's scouts or advance guard. We have had intelligence from Hali that Rakhal is massing his own armies under Lyondri Hastur, and if he moves as we think - and that will depend to some degree upon how well you and I use the eyes of our birds - we will meet him near Neskaya in the Kilghard Hills. In fact, Lord Orain has asked if we can fly the birds out today and see what we can spy out."

  "And, of course, when Orain speaks, all the army jumps to attention," said Romilly dryly. Ruyven stared at her.

  "What is the matter with you, Romy? Lord Orain is a good and kindly man, and Carolin's chief adviser and friend! Do you dislike him? And with what reason?"

  That recalled Romilly to herself. It was only wounded vanity; while he thought her a boy, Orain had admired her and trusted her, and when he knew her a woman, all that went into discard and she was just another nonentity, another woman, perhaps a danger to him. But that was Orain's problem and not hers; she had done nothing to deserve being ruthlessly cast out of his affections like that.

  And he is the loser by it. Not I.

  She said steadily, "I value Orain's gifts better than you know; I travelled with him and worked close to him for many moons. I do not think he should look down on me simply because I am a woman; I have shown I can do my work as well and skillfully as any man."

  "No one doubts that, Romy," said Ruyven, in a note so conciliating that Romilly wondered how much of her hidden anger had actually shown in her face, "But Orain loves not women, and he has not had Tower teachings - we know in Tramontana that women's strengths and men's are not so different, after all. We are the first Tower who experimented with a woman for Keeper in one of our circles, and she is as skillful with the work as any man, even a Hastur. I think you, too, could benefit by such training."

  "I used to think so," said Romilly, "But now I know what my laran is and my Gift. Father too must have some of this Gift, or he could not train horses as he does, and now I know how well I have inherited it."

  "I would not be too quick to decide against Tower training," said Ruyven, "I too thought I had mastered my laran even in Nevarsin, but I discovered that while I kept all at bay on the front lines of the war with self, I had left undefended fortresses at my back, and through these I was almost conquered."

  Romilly made an impatient gesture; the symbolism of the warrior struck her as far-fetched and unnecessary. "If we are to take the birds out and fly them, let us be about it, then. After all, if Lord Orain has given orders, Carolin's chief adviser cannot be kept waiting."

  Ruyven seemed about to protest the sarcasm, but he sighed and was still. In his black robe he looked very much like a monk, and his narrow face had the detached, impassive look she associated with the Nevarsin brothers. "They will come for us when they want us. Will you make sure that Temperance's jesses are not too tight? I was afraid they were tearing an old scar on her leg, and Orain said that before you came to them, she had suffered some damage. I think your eyes are keener than mine."

  Romilly went to examine the bird's leg, soothing Temperance with her ready thoughts. She found no serious trouble, but she did shift the location of the jesses around the bird's leg; the old scar did indeed look red and raw. She sponged it with a solution of karalla powder as a precaution, then turned the three hoods inside out and dusted them lightly inside with the same powder as a preventive against any dampness or infection, or the tiny parasites which sometimes got on birds and caused trouble at molting.

  Ruyven said at last, "I am sorry to use my talents this way, at war, when I would rather stay peacefully in the Tower and work for our own people in the hills. But otherwise, all the Kingdoms may fall, one by one, to the tyranny of Lyondri Hastur and that wretch Rakhal, who has neither honor nor laran nor any sense of justice, but only a vicious will to power. Carolin, at least, is an honorable man."

  "You say so and Orain says so. I have never seen him."

  "Well, you shall see him now," said Orain, standing at the back of the enclosure; he had evidently heard the exchange. "Jandria told me of your hostel's gift to the king, and she thought it only right, Mistress Romilly, that you should present it with your own hands, so come with me."

  Romilly glanced at Ruyven, who said, "I will come to," and, replacing his glove, came after them.

  Why is Ruyven the king's hawkmaster and I regarded only as his helper? I am a professional Swordswoman and it is I who have the greater skill. Ruyven would rather be in his Tower, and this work is life to me. He says himself that in the Tower women are allowed to hold high offices, yet it never seems to occur to him that I, his little sister, should be treated with that kind of fairness. Carolin's armies, then, are ruled by the old notion that a man must always do any work better than the most skilled of women?

  But her rebellious thoughts were interrupted by the sight of Jandria, who stood holding Sunstar by the reins. He was saddled and bridled, and as he raised his silken nose and whickered softly in recognition of Romilly, she reached out again to touch the horse's mind in greeting and love.

  Jandria said, "It is an honor to the Sisterhood that we can make this splendid gift to the king, and for their sake I thank you."

  "I am the one who is honored," Romilly answered in a low voice, "It has been a pleasure to work with Sunstar."

  "There he is, with Lord Orain," said Jandria, and Romilly saw Orain, dressed for riding, next to a hooded and cloaked man who was walking toward them. She gripped Sunstar's reins in excitement.

  "High-lord, you lend us grace," Jandria began with a deep bow. "The Sisterhood of the Sword is honored and pleased to present you with this magnificent horse, trained by our finest horse-woman. Romilly?"

  She did not raise her eyes to the king's, though she was conscious of Orain's glance. She said, looking only at the horse's sleek nose, "His name is Sunstar, Your Majesty, and he is trained to all paces and gaits. He will carry you for love; he has never felt whip or spur."

  "If you had his training, Mistress Romilly, I know he is well trained," said a familiar voice, and she looked up at the hooded form of the king, to look into the eyes of Dom Carlo of Blue Lake. He smiled at her surprise. "I am sorry to have the advantage of you, Mistress MacAran; I knew who you were long ago. . . ." and she remembered the moment when she had felt the touch of his laran.

  "I wish you had told me, vai dom," said Orain, "I had no notion she was a girl and I made a precious fool of myself!"

  Dom Carlo - no, Romilly reminded herself, King Carolin, Hastur of Hastur, Lord of Thendara and Hali - looked at Orain with open, warm affection. He said, "You see only what you want to see, bredu," and patted Orain's shoulder. He said to Romilly, "I thank you, and the Sisterhood, for this magnificent gift, and for your loyalty to me. Both are precious to me, believe me. And I have heard, too, that you are to continue with your handling of the sentry-birds whose lives you saved when we met with you on the trail to Nevarsin. I shall not forget, my-" he hesitated a moment, smiled and said, "Swordswoman. Thank you - thank you all."

  Romilly touched Sunstar again, a loving and final gesture of leave-taking. "Serve him well," she whispered, "Carry him faithfully, love him as I - as I love you." She moved away from the animal, watching as the king gathered up the reins and mounted.

  He has some touch of that gift. I remember well. Sunstar, then, does not go to a brutal or insensitive man, but to one who will reckon him at his true worth.

  Still she was troubled. Dom Carlo had known she was
a girl and had not betrayed her among the men; but he might have spared her humiliation at Orain's hands, too, by warning his friend. But then, remembering to be fair, she told herself that he might have had no notion of her feelings for Orain, and he certainly could never have guessed that she would throw herself at Orain's head - or into his bed - in that way.

  Well, it did not matter; done was done. Ruyven came toward her and she presented him to Jandria.

  "My brother Ruyven; the Lady Jandria."

  "Swordswoman Jandria," corrected the older woman, laughing. "I have told you; rank we leave behind us when we take the sword. And your brother is-"

  "Ruyven MacAran," he told her, "Fourth in Tramontana, Second Circle. Have you finished with my sister, domna?" Romilly noted that, as if automatically, he called Jandria by the formal title given an equal or superior, domna - Lady - rather than the simpler mestra which he would have used to a social inferior.

  "She is free to go," Jandria said, and Romilly, frowning, followed Ruyven.

  She had hoped that some time that day it would seem natural to speak to Ruyven of her departure from Falconsward. She had intended, then-how long ago it seemed!-to seek the Tower where he had taken refuge. Somehow she had expected that he would welcome her there. But this quiet, monkish stranger seemed to bear no relation whatever to the brother who had been so close to her in childhood. She could not imagine confiding in him. She felt closer now to Jandria, or even to Orain, stranger that he had now become!

  She looked back briefly at Sunstar, pacing along at a stately gait with Dom Carlo - no, she must remember, King Carolin - in the saddle. A brief mental touch renewed the old communication, and she felt herself smile.

  I am closer to that horse than to anything human; closer than I have ever been to anything human.

  When they had done for the day, Jandria came for her.