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The Gray One's mouth snapped shut, and it glared at him with its yellow eyes sharp and
clear. Aranur had the feeling he had said the wrong tiling, but Dion shrugged and dug her
fingers into the creature's thick fur, tugging at it until the powerful beast relaxed. "She's
not a pet, Aranur, she's like another person."
"She obeys Dion because she wants to," Rhom explained further. "She doesn't really have a
bond with me except through my twin, so it's hard for me to pick up what she means, but
for Dion, she'll do almost anything."
"And you can actually talk to her?"
The yellow eyes narrowed again, but the woman continued scratching, and the wolf leaned
its head against her side and forced her to take a wider stance to keep her balance. ' 'If
you're a sensitive, you can pick up their impressions. You have to get used to it, though.
Wolves see things differently than we do." She scratched the Gray One's ears when the
animal nudged her hand with a wet nose. "When you talk to them, you pick up what they
see and smell and hear, too, and it makes the images confusing."
"I noticed," the tall man murmured, and the woman gave him a sharp look.
"If you can pick up what she sends, she can pick up your thoughts also," she warned with a
smile that almost hid her blush. It did not occur to Aranur until later that if the wolf could
sense what he was thinking, then so, through her, could Dion.
Clearing his throat, Bentol presented himself before Rhom and his sister, and the
blacksmith obligingly turned to him. "Trade Master Bentol, and Tyrel Tyronnen neVolan,
son to Llo-roi Volan and nephew to Gamon, weapons master. My twin, the healer Ember
Dione maMarin."
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She smiled. "You can call me Dion if you prefer."
"Dion seems a manly name for so lovely a lady," Bentol remarked as he took her hand.
"It's habit," she explained, blushing more deeply. "When I trained with the men, they were
uncomfortable calling me Lady this and Healer that, so when they found out that Rhom
always called me Dion, they did, too. And then, when I was chosen to
62
Tara K. Harper
Journey with my brother, we thought it'd be better for me to dress as a man to avoid
trouble."
Aranur could understand. On Rhom, the coloring was handsome. On Dion, the black hair
and violet eyes made her a harem prize worth fighting for. If a slave owner in Sidisport saw
Dion and guessed that she was a woman, she would have a hard time staying out of chains.
But one of Rhom's words caught his attention, and Aranur frowned. "Journey?"
Rhom nodded. "We were Journeying together, but " His voice broke oif, and his jaw
tightened before he could speak again. His twin touched his arm, and he finished.
"Worlags."
Aranur felt some shock at his statement. How could Rhom let a woman especially his
sister go with him on Journey? Women had Internships they did not have the training,
the skills, or the stamina to go on Journey. What if they got hurt? And Dion had gotten
hurt, he reminded himself, looking at the burly stranger with a frown. Maybe he had
misjudged the man-taking a woman on Journey was not a light decision, although he had
to admit she looked tough enough. Then again, Randon-nen was a different county with
different customs, and it was not supposed to be half as war-torn as Celilo or Bilocctar.
"But how can you Journey together?" Tyrel asked bluntly, echoing Aranur's thoughts with
little tact. "Dion's a woman."
The healer's eyes flashed, but she held her tongue, letting Rhom speak with less heat than
she might have.
"Dion's no fool," her twin said quietly. "And she's trained as I am. She knows weapons and
Abis, she's a wolfwalker and full-status healer, and she has, well, almost as much skill in
the woods as I." He ducked the look she threw him at that comment but could not avoid a
shove from the wolf that staggered him. The man grinned and shared a silent joke with his
sister, and Aranur felt suddenly jealous.
But Gamon nodded, too, surprising the gray-eyed leader. "She knows what she's doing,
Aranur."
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"We're in a hurry," Aranur said flatly, thinking of the time already lost.
Rhom did not hesitate. "We Journey together. If we're a burden ..."
"Think about it, Aranur," Gamon suggested smoothly. "It would be lucky to have a
wolfwalker and healer along, especially one that can fight."
WOLFWALKER
63
Aranur hesitated. He told himself that having a woman along would slow them down, but
then he looked again at the way she had stitched herself together with largon heads. She
was one tough woman. He opened his mouth, then heard himself offering the formal
greeting as he had to Rhom. "You are welcome in our midst. Youare welcome as a a
sister," heamended. "Ride and eat and fight with us, and your children will be as my own.''
The wolfwalker met his look with her own steady gaze. Her hand dropped to the wolf's
shoulders as she said, ' 'We join you, and take your burdens as our own.''
Gamon turned to the trader. "Bentol, I started to bring you two more dnu for pack beasts,
but they heard how you put half a ton on a lepa once and told it to fly. They decided to go
lame and avoid the whole situation." The trader turned slightly red as the others chuckled.
"However, I did bring you some presents in the saddlebags, and we all know how wilting
I'd be to pack them for you, but..."
"The way you pack " the merchant started angrily.
"I know, I know. Only a master trader such as you, honorable Bentol, can remedy the mess
I'd make of the packs. So," the silver-haired fighter said, flourishing his warcap in the air,
"I give you my leave to undo what I'd cheerfully have done."
The pudgy man snorted and stomped to the new packs Tyrel had set on die ground.
Dion, still pale, stood with Rhom's arm around her as if that were the only thing in the
world that mattered. She had a haunting grace, Aranur noticed as she moved, though he
kept his glances infrequent he could not tell which would be the more possessive
adversary: Rhom or the wolf. But as she slung her worn bow over her shoulder and settled
her well-used sword hi its scabbard, he reconsidered her weakness. She may look frail, he
thought, but that's a lady that can ride the mountain trail. Maybe. They were not riding to [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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