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Chapter II

South whipped around to witness an apparent swarm of shadowed figures closing in around she and her aunt. She stared outward at the one who had spoken. His coat was painted, like her own, but black and white. His eyes were silver and blind. "Well done, Mancer," he said calmly from his post on the interior of the circle. "I didn't expect her to be this easy to apprehend."

"I'm out of your league, Avaunal," came the low, accented, voice of South. She flattened her ears and lowered her head.

"Indeed you are, missy. However, I have not come for you, but rather, your father. You would not have traveled this far on your own."

"Perhaps you have underestimated me," the mare replied with a glare, her eyes watching his every movement, alert for any sign that he was planning an attack. "In case you had failed to notice it, I'm not the young filly you lusted after all those years ago." She sent a pointed glance in Mancer's direction, her eyes accusing as they could ever be; she'd trusted her aunt but here she had given herself up for bait so that Avaunal and his band could snag her brother, or at the very least, information on him. The white mare looked away, refusing to meet her niece's eye.

"Perhaps you are lying, dearest South," Avaunal snapped quickly as he moved from the wall of equines to circle her. He paid no attention to Mancer, who was sidling away in the most unnoticeable manner possible. "You may not be that young filly anymore, but I know from experience that when you try to act noble, it accompanies knowledge you do not want to share." He stopped in front of her, his silvery gaze piercing her own like a thousand needles, drawing her churning mind into himself. She felt it the moment he tried to access the information he needed, but she blocked him out with the sudden motion of her eyes ripping away from his. She'd thought him blind. Foolish, foolish girl.

The stallion said nothing when she pulled away, but the surprise was written across face in big, bold, letters. Evidently, he had not realized that with her father's help, she'd grown strong enough to end such connections as that between minds. Maybe she'd not learned to repel the advance yet, but stopping them was most definitely a decent start. As if remembering his followers surrounded him the painted stallion gave a rough snort, frowned, and then cleared his features of any hint that she had defeated him even in that brief moment.

"So tell me South," he pushed on, resuming his circling movements. "What are you so keen to keep hidden in that pretty little mind of yours? Because, you must admit, you wouldn't have pulled away from me if you'd had nothing to conceal."

The tri-colored mare's gaze snapped back to his, but she noticed he did not make an attempt at infiltration this time. No, he wasn't so stupid as to try a second time and fail, perhaps to the notice of his adoring fans. She made a sound deep in her throat that sounded something of a cross between a gurgle and a snort, and then allowed her words to slice the air. "Of course I have things to conceal!" she cried out, raising one fore-hoof and then slamming it back upon the marshy earth. "But they will not aide you in your search for a stallion who has never been here. Besides, I'm sure you'd rather not visit my most powerful memory of him. It does, after all, involve you falling to his feathered hooves."

At mention of such a memory the dichromatic brute's ears swept back against his skull, hidden beneath one of the ivory sections of his mane, and his nostrils curled. He took two steps forward as if to lunge for her, but then appeared to have thought better of it. She, however, did not let this fact go unnoticed.

"Shame you haven't got the spark you once had, Avaunal," said South in a pitying tone, and she shook her head in mock sadness. "I guess begging for the mercy my father unfavorably showed you in the end did have some effect on you. Softened you up a bit has it? You never did stand for pity, did you Avaunal?" She swished her lengthy tail, swatting at insects distractedly as the stallion's eyes narrowed to near slits. It would be a wonder he could see out of them at all, even if they hadn't been white.

"I'd rather profess that it did just the opposite, South," Avaunal replied with disdain in his voice. "Shame brought me to a new level of understanding. Leila Sa'eeda trained me in proper etiquette quite well, I must say. 'The merciless accept no mercy.'" He looked proud of himself, as if he had just been given a particularly important promotion, when the words of the female cast him into shadows once more.

"Ah, but as I recall, you were never merciless. In fact, I believe you once accompanied a sickly colt not born of your blood to the Healers, did you not?" She paused, taking in his stare of abandon for a moment. "What's more, you raised that colt as your own, loved him even, and gave him your herd."

With an opening of the mouth the stallion lunged forward, one front hoof striking out and catching South on the inside of her leg before she could have possibly dodged it. Warm liquid trickled down, giving in to gravity, and she realized the vice-like teeth had missed her face by mere centimeters. Sides heaving, the two were locked in a stare-down for a good minute or so before Avaunal lashed out again. Much larger than the lightly built South, he caught another painful blow to her chest; she made no attempt to fight back. Better to let him spend his energy and wait for the appropriate time to return fire.

"A sad thing it is to see a stallion strike a mare these days," South cast at him heatedly, though she did nothing but dodge the attack that followed. Stopping for a brief instant, he looked at her.

"Merciless, sweetie."

"And while I'm quite certain our Lord would enjoy hearing you speak in such a manner, Avaunal, I must remind you that your orders were not to harm the child."

Heads turned everywhere, including the battling pair in the center of the ring. Having pushed his way through the mass of Avaunal's cronies, a heavy stallion of draft blood and gold pelt came to stand squarely before them. South recognized him at once, though she had never personally met him, and was outraged by his reference to her age.

"I'm no child," she spat venomously, sidestepping away from Avaunal, out of range. The golden stallion shot her a fierce look, silencing her in an instant, and then responded.

"It speaks!" he cried, and there was a roar of laughter from the surrounding equines. In the background, still virtually unnoticed, a flurry of white disappeared into the trees. Mancer had, if nothing else, succeeded in having shown her cowardice that day. Meanwhile, Avaunal was glaring at the newcomer with such malice in his eyes that South felt sure the other stallion would shrivel under his gaze. The draft moved forward now, toward Avaunal and South, and stopped to scrutinize the mare's appearance.

"You've scarred a good piece of horse flesh here Avaunal," he said with a frown, looking her up and down once, and then turning away. He did not look at her again. "He is not going to approve of this."

South saw for the first time during their short acquaintance that Avaunal's eyes had taken on a look of panic, rather than the anger and arrogance she had thus far seen. He glanced around with a sort of desperation evident, as if he were looking for a way to escape that according to the golden stallion seemed inevitable. The draft moved closer to the painted stud, and the two conversed more quietly now. South was unable to hear their words.

Once or twice she tried to catch the newcomer's eye, but she was unsuccessful. He refused to acknowledge her.

"I shall explain to him of the Lenas' attack then," declared the palomino as he stepped back, speaking in a more audible voice now, and Avaunal nodded grimly. "Remember, you must find one and bring it back, or he'll never believe you." Turning to leave, the stallion stopped for an instant, and craned his head around to say something more. "This is the last time I help you out, boy."

Avaunal, plainly irritated by the draft's treatment of him, only glowered in the direction of his off-turned frame. South, uncertain what to do, stared after him also.

"Oh my," came the soft voice once again, and the golden male halted in his tracks. "I'd almost forgotten the whelp." This time when he looked back, his sights were aimed at her. She was wary of this creature, thanks to Mancer's earlier commentary, but she nevertheless took a step forward—only to be blocked by a black and white form.

"We never agreed to that, Larkin," Avaunal's voice rang out, accusing. "She stays with me. I've been recruited to find her sire."

Larkin's dark eyes never moved from South's figure.

"Then find him. In the meantime, I will be dealing with her."

As if the matter were solved immediately upon his statement, the golden stallion finally removed his eyes from the gash on South's chest. She cautiously stepped around Avaunal, and she was well aware of his eyes following her as she limped after the draft stallion, moving away at a rather swift pace. The living boundaries of the circle parted like the sea as Larkin passed through them, and though they allowed South to pass as well, she was rewarded a much smaller space in which to do so. The stallion did not wait up for her, but before she could fall behind he stopped. Well out of sight and earshot of Avaunal's band, his great body turned with surprising agility and he had swooped down on her within seconds.

"Might I remind you that there was purpose in letting that simpleton think he had caught you," he said in a low, intimidating voice. It was surprisingly soft, as if he were whispering more than speaking, but she ignored it. "Remember that now, if you try to flee, I'll be able to keep up with you."

Description
Chapter II

South whipped around to witness an apparent swarm of shadowed figures closing in around she and her aunt. She stared outward at the one who had spoken. His coat was painted, like her own, but black and white. His eyes were silver and blind. "Well done, Mancer," he said calmly from his post on the interior of the circle. "I didn't expect her to be this easy to apprehend."

"I'm out of your league, Avaunal," came the low, accented, voice of South. She flattened her ears and lowered her head.

"Indeed you are, missy. However, I have not come for you, but rather, your father. You would not have traveled this far on your own."

"Perhaps you have underestimated me," the mare replied with a glare, her eyes watching his every movement, alert for any sign that he was planning an attack. "In case you had failed to notice it, I'm not the young filly you lusted after all those years ago." She sent a pointed glance in Mancer's direction, her eyes accusing as they could ever be; she'd trusted her aunt but here she had given herself up for bait so that Avaunal and his band could snag her brother, or at the very least, information on him. The white mare looked away, refusing to meet her niece's eye.

"Perhaps you are lying, dearest South," Avaunal snapped quickly as he moved from the wall of equines to circle her. He paid no attention to Mancer, who was sidling away in the most unnoticeable manner possible. "You may not be that young filly anymore, but I know from experience that when you try to act noble, it accompanies knowledge you do not want to share." He stopped in front of her, his silvery gaze piercing her own like a thousand needles, drawing her churning mind into himself. She felt it the moment he tried to access the information he needed, but she blocked him out with the sudden motion of her eyes ripping away from his. She'd thought him blind. Foolish, foolish girl.

The stallion said nothing when she pulled away, but the surprise was written across face in big, bold, letters. Evidently, he had not realized that with her father's help, she'd grown strong enough to end such connections as that between minds. Maybe she'd not learned to repel the advance yet, but stopping them was most definitely a decent start. As if remembering his followers surrounded him the painted stallion gave a rough snort, frowned, and then cleared his features of any hint that she had defeated him even in that brief moment.

"So tell me South," he pushed on, resuming his circling movements. "What are you so keen to keep hidden in that pretty little mind of yours? Because, you must admit, you wouldn't have pulled away from me if you'd had nothing to conceal."

The tri-colored mare's gaze snapped back to his, but she noticed he did not make an attempt at infiltration this time. No, he wasn't so stupid as to try a second time and fail, perhaps to the notice of his adoring fans. She made a sound deep in her throat that sounded something of a cross between a gurgle and a snort, and then allowed her words to slice the air. "Of course I have things to conceal!" she cried out, raising one fore-hoof and then slamming it back upon the marshy earth. "But they will not aide you in your search for a stallion who has never been here. Besides, I'm sure you'd rather not visit my most powerful memory of him. It does, after all, involve you falling to his feathered hooves."

At mention of such a memory the dichromatic brute's ears swept back against his skull, hidden beneath one of the ivory sections of his mane, and his nostrils curled. He took two steps forward as if to lunge for her, but then appeared to have thought better of it. She, however, did not let this fact go unnoticed.

"Shame you haven't got the spark you once had, Avaunal," said South in a pitying tone, and she shook her head in mock sadness. "I guess begging for the mercy my father unfavorably showed you in the end did have some effect on you. Softened you up a bit has it? You never did stand for pity, did you Avaunal?" She swished her lengthy tail, swatting at insects distractedly as the stallion's eyes narrowed to near slits. It would be a wonder he could see out of them at all, even if they hadn't been white.

"I'd rather profess that it did just the opposite, South," Avaunal replied with disdain in his voice. "Shame brought me to a new level of understanding. Leila Sa'eeda trained me in proper etiquette quite well, I must say. 'The merciless accept no mercy.'" He looked proud of himself, as if he had just been given a particularly important promotion, when the words of the female cast him into shadows once more.

"Ah, but as I recall, you were never merciless. In fact, I believe you once accompanied a sickly colt not born of your blood to the Healers, did you not?" She paused, taking in his stare of abandon for a moment. "What's more, you raised that colt as your own, loved him even, and gave him your herd."

With an opening of the mouth the stallion lunged forward, one front hoof striking out and catching South on the inside of her leg before she could have possibly dodged it. Warm liquid trickled down, giving in to gravity, and she realized the vice-like teeth had missed her face by mere centimeters. Sides heaving, the two were locked in a stare-down for a good minute or so before Avaunal lashed out again. Much larger than the lightly built South, he caught another painful blow to her chest; she made no attempt to fight back. Better to let him spend his energy and wait for the appropriate time to return fire.

"A sad thing it is to see a stallion strike a mare these days," South cast at him heatedly, though she did nothing but dodge the attack that followed. Stopping for a brief instant, he looked at her.

"Merciless, sweetie."

"And while I'm quite certain our Lord would enjoy hearing you speak in such a manner, Avaunal, I must remind you that your orders were not to harm the child."

Heads turned everywhere, including the battling pair in the center of the ring. Having pushed his way through the mass of Avaunal's cronies, a heavy stallion of draft blood and gold pelt came to stand squarely before them. South recognized him at once, though she had never personally met him, and was outraged by his reference to her age.

"I'm no child," she spat venomously, sidestepping away from Avaunal, out of range. The golden stallion shot her a fierce look, silencing her in an instant, and then responded.

"It speaks!" he cried, and there was a roar of laughter from the surrounding equines. In the background, still virtually unnoticed, a flurry of white disappeared into the trees. Mancer had, if nothing else, succeeded in having shown her cowardice that day. Meanwhile, Avaunal was glaring at the newcomer with such malice in his eyes that South felt sure the other stallion would shrivel under his gaze. The draft moved forward now, toward Avaunal and South, and stopped to scrutinize the mare's appearance.

"You've scarred a good piece of horse flesh here Avaunal," he said with a frown, looking her up and down once, and then turning away. He did not look at her again. "He is not going to approve of this."

South saw for the first time during their short acquaintance that Avaunal's eyes had taken on a look of panic, rather than the anger and arrogance she had thus far seen. He glanced around with a sort of desperation evident, as if he were looking for a way to escape that according to the golden stallion seemed inevitable. The draft moved closer to the painted stud, and the two conversed more quietly now. South was unable to hear their words.

Once or twice she tried to catch the newcomer's eye, but she was unsuccessful. He refused to acknowledge her.

"I shall explain to him of the Lenas' attack then," declared the palomino as he stepped back, speaking in a more audible voice now, and Avaunal nodded grimly. "Remember, you must find one and bring it back, or he'll never believe you." Turning to leave, the stallion stopped for an instant, and craned his head around to say something more. "This is the last time I help you out, boy."

Avaunal, plainly irritated by the draft's treatment of him, only glowered in the direction of his off-turned frame. South, uncertain what to do, stared after him also.

"Oh my," came the soft voice once again, and the golden male halted in his tracks. "I'd almost forgotten the whelp." This time when he looked back, his sights were aimed at her. She was wary of this creature, thanks to Mancer's earlier commentary, but she nevertheless took a step forward—only to be blocked by a black and white form.

"We never agreed to that, Larkin," Avaunal's voice rang out, accusing. "She stays with me. I've been recruited to find her sire."

Larkin's dark eyes never moved from South's figure.

"Then find him. In the meantime, I will be dealing with her."

As if the matter were solved immediately upon his statement, the golden stallion finally removed his eyes from the gash on South's chest. She cautiously stepped around Avaunal, and she was well aware of his eyes following her as she limped after the draft stallion, moving away at a rather swift pace. The living boundaries of the circle parted like the sea as Larkin passed through them, and though they allowed South to pass as well, she was rewarded a much smaller space in which to do so. The stallion did not wait up for her, but before she could fall behind he stopped. Well out of sight and earshot of Avaunal's band, his great body turned with surprising agility and he had swooped down on her within seconds.

"Might I remind you that there was purpose in letting that simpleton think he had caught you," he said in a low, intimidating voice. It was surprisingly soft, as if he were whispering more than speaking, but she ignored it. "Remember that now, if you try to flee, I'll be able to keep up with you."