"Tisana!" Rafe bellowed, sticking his head inside the shed. "By the gods below! Aren't you ready yet? We've got to get moving!"

" Rafe," I replied evenly. "I understand the need for haste, and it should be perfectly obvious that I'm doing the best I can. I know you're upset, but please try to keep a civil tongue in your head, unless you intend to find someone else to help you."

"You must have bewitched me years ago," he declared. "Otherwise, I could never have gotten past your waspish tongue."

"I think you had something to do with the condition of my tongue," I retorted. "I was a sweet young thing when I first met you. If my tongue is waspish now, you're a large part of the reason why."

For some reason Rafe found this amusing. "You were never a sweet young thing, Tisana," he chuckled. "There was always fire in you."

If he only knew... "Oh, just go get on your horse and leave me be," I grumbled. I had to control my temper *79 *19*.

80.

Cheryl Brooks better. Make him really angry and I might never see Leo again, let alone get to free him. I picked up the bridle and offered Morgana the bit, which was something I normally didn't need, since I could always tell her what I wanted, but this time it was for show. Fortunately, she understood this.

"He's not worth the effort," Morgana assured me, taking the bit. "Neither is that other one."

"You've never gotten a taste of Leo, so I'll excuse your ignorance for now." I paused as a novel thought crossed my mind. "Ever have an orgasm, Morgana?"

"No," she said. "And I don't want to."

"Your loss," I said with a shrug. "You know, you really should give it a try sometime-when you're in season, that is. I mean, that Sinjar is one sexy stud!"

She rolled her eyes at me in reply.

"Oh, come on! He's not a bit like Rafe! He's funny, he's good-looking...he's one terrific guy!"

This time she snorted.

"Okay, then," I said. "Let's get going. It's a long way to town."

"I know," she said. "Just be sure to put something for me to eat in that saddlebag. I'm kinda hungry."

"You're always hungry," I pointed out. "I've never known you to turn down a snack."

"It's a horse thing," she said simply. "We eat all the time."

I started to make the comment that eating all the time tended to cause her to do something else all the time, but since I'd never had to clean up after her, I chose not to mention it. She may have heard the thought anyway, but she was a little more tactful than Desdemona and *80 *19*.

warrior

81.

usually did her best to ignore my thoughts unless I directed them toward her, preferring, instead, that I actually speak to her aloud first. Sinjar had confided to me once that he enjoyed hearing the sound of human voices-provided they weren't screaming at him-but it also might be that horses are more willing than cats to accept things at face value. They were certainly more forgiving-and more trusting.

Which was more than I could say for Rafe. When I led Morgana out of the shed to mount up, I noted that Rafe had a lead rope tied to the bit on Leo's horse. Calla, the horse in question, seemed to be upset about it, too.

"Couldn't you just tell him I won't let the damned slave escape?" Calla complained. "I told you I wouldn't, and I never lie."

I might have been able to explain to Rafe that Leo probably wouldn't run off, but it would be very difficult to describe how I knew that the horse wouldn't. In the end, I told Calla he'd just have to learn to live with it.

Calla was a bit of a prick, it seemed, and was making me wish once again that Rafe had brought Sinjar instead.

Darkness was falling as we set off, and with the horses' footfalls muffled in the snow, we moved on with no sound other than that of creaking leather and the occasional grunt of effort from one of the horses.

A surreal silence enveloped us; not another sound came from the snow-laden pines through which we passed, lulling me into the illusion that we were the only living souls on that entire world. I wondered what Rafe had been thinking when he'd asked if Morgana could keep up. He was a fool if he thought we could gallop through the snow, which was nearly a foot deep *81 *19*.

82.

Cheryl Brooks by then-but perhaps he'd been too distraught to be thinking clearly.

I still didn't understand why anyone would kidnap Rafe's children. If someone wanted to eliminate his heirs, killing them would have been much simpler and far more effective. So why would anyone take children?

Because they had none of their own? Or because they...

oh, yes, I thought, that must be it! They wanted to lure Rafe out of his stronghold to kill him. Then kill his sons and take his land. I wondered if Rafe had considered this possibility. If he had, he certainly wouldn't be going with us-or shouldn't be. Of course, Rafe was the kind of man who seemed to think he was invincible. Foolish man! No one was invincible. Anyone could die...

Lost in these thoughts, I was startled when Gerald, the squirrel, threw a nut at me to get my attention.

"Where the devil do you think you're going at this time of night?" he chirped from his perch in a nearby tree. "It's getting dark! You'll get lost!"

"I don't think so, Gerald. Trust me, Rafe knows the way through these woods blindfolded."

"Whoo-hoo, that other one is a mean-looking cat, isn't he? Doesn't like to hunt squirrels, does he?"

"You've seen him before, Gerald," I said dryly. "I know you must have seen him when he ran away."

"Yeah, I did," he remarked casually. "I would have told you where to find him, but you didn't seem to need any help."

"Obvious trail," I agreed. "What are you doing up, anyway?"

"Keeping an eye out," he replied, twitching his bushy tail. "That Rafe caused quite a stir when he came flying *82 *19*.

warrior

83.

through here a while ago. What's up with him, anyway?

Got a sick wife?"

"No, someone kidnapped his sons. We're going to help him find them."

"You'll need me then," he said, leaping down from his branch. "I'm coming with you."

"And just how will I explain that?" I demanded.

"You know very well people will comment on a squirrel riding double with me."

"Let them wonder," he said. "But warn that horse, will you? They're a nervous, jumpy bunch!"

"Look who's talking!" I thought with an inward chuckle, but I did warn Morgana that Gerald had decided to hitch a ride.

"Don't suppose I could just hide inside the front of your cloak, could I?" he asked as he landed on my shoulder. "It would be a lot warmer, and I'd be less noticeable."

"Haven't got fleas, have you?" I teased. I might have been kidding, but I really didn't want to get fleas, either.

"No, of course not!" He seemed offended that I would even suggest such a thing. I'd never been close enough to Gerald to know whether he had fleas or not; he'd always struck me as being a bit standoffish, and it seemed odd that he'd decided to get so chummy.

I knew my self to be growing and changing with recent events. Could it be enhancing my bond with the animals? I'd always had an easy rapport with horses, and with Desdemona, of course. With the wilder creatures, being able to talk with them didn't necessarily mean they would listen-or cooperate. The rabbits I suspected of purposely misunderstanding the dire threats I directed *83 *19*.

84.

Cheryl Brooks at their quick little minds whenever I chased them out of my garden. The only thoughts I picked up from most of them were innocently focused on the pleasures of whatever tender vegetable they were chewing on. They didn't seem to understand my annoyance at their stealing my lettuce-though they might not have known that I could hear them out there laughing their little whiskers off afterwards. And look at Gerald-I mean, usually he just threw things at me and laughed whenever they hit me. I wondered what had happened to make him take such an interest in what I was doing.

"Bored," he remarked, obviously having been eavesdropping on my thoughts as he wormed his way inside the front of my cloak. "Nothing to do, you know? Plenty of food stored up, and no more to be had with all this damned snow on the ground! I could use a little adven- ture. Besides, it'll give us a chance to get to know each other better."

I pondered this for a moment, wondering exactly how a little squirrel might be helpful on our quest. I remembered who had helped me find that other lost child.

Gerald could consult with others of his kind along the way-which would save me a lot of time, because I'd yet to talk with a squirrel for the first time who didn't turn a simple question into a long, drawn-out discussion of who I was and why I could talk with them. You have only to listen to them chattering in the treetops to know that they like to talk a lot. And, like most prey animals, they're good lookouts, too-they don't miss much, and it's pretty hard to sneak up on one.

"Okay, then," I said. "When we get to Rafe's keep, would you ask around and see if anyone's seen his kids?

*84 *20*.

warrior

85.

I'll ask the other animals, but if you could talk to the squirrels, I'd appreciate it. Morgana can check with any horses we meet, but it might have been too dark for them to see much. Of course, any direction the kidnappers would have gone would take them through the forest, so you tree dwellers would be the most likely witnesses."

"Righto!" Gerald said, curling up inside the doublebreasted front of my cloak. "My point exactly! You let me know when we're getting close. Right now, I think I'll nap for a bit." Yawning hugely, he settled himself for the journey. "This is very nice, Tisana. Don't know why I never did it before."

"Too busy picking on me, I suppose," I remarked grimly. "You know, I don't usually give horseback rides to those who enjoy tormenting me."

"Sorry about that, Tisana," he said, his whispering thoughts growing fainter as he drifted off to sleep. "I'll try to restrain myself..."

Once he was asleep I decided that if his help would enable me to find the boys and then talk Rafe out of a certain slave I was rather partial to, he could throw rocks at me for all I cared.

*85 *20*.

Chapter 4.

We were a tired and bedraggled crew by the time we reached the quiet, snow-shrouded town and passed through it to Rafe's home. I've referred to this as Rafe's keep, but in truth, it was a large house surrounded with a wooden palisade just inside the town. Unfortunately, those walls had been completely useless when it came to keeping the people inside safe from harm.

The boys' nurse had been killed. I couldn't remember ever hearing of such violence in our neck of the woods.

We'd been spared having to deal with such things-at least during my lifetime. People had come here from Earth many generations before, in part to escape from hatred and violence, but, unfortunately, it had followed us here. Utopia wasn't truly Utopian, not as I understood the reference. I doubted, for example, that slavery had been intended as the primary mode of labor in the original model, nor would there have been a need for each lord to have a company of fighting men at his disposal.

But, as with many great and noble ideas, it became bastardized when put into practice.

When I looked at Leo, it seemed abhorrent to think of him as the property of another person. It was wrong; and down in the deepest recesses of our hearts, we all knew it was wrong-even those who owned many slaves.

What it would take to free them, I didn't know, and still don't. It had become too much the accepted norm in *86 *20*.