Nut and Bracken leaned into their collars and pulled steadily, water dripping from their manes, their ears held sideways to stop the rain trickling in. The younger Children were taking it in turns to ride double on two of the four new beasts, tied one each side of the wagon to the centre rings, the other two new ones were tied at the rear, each carrying a pack; and Flax, Agouti and Sunshine were having a well-earned day off, following in the rear, picking at a few choice mouthfuls from time to time, and cantering to catch up every now and then.

Ahead of them the trade route rose gently up the long slope of the hill; the last waypost had said five miles to Caprester (although the carving was all but unreadable under a layer of soggy lichen), and a curl of smoke rising above the trees on the curve of the hill gave the first sign that they were rapidly approaching human habitation.

– Moonwind and I will strike north through the trees and come back down to meet you on the far side, said Moondust.

– Nemeth, if I go with the unicorns, I can try for a deer in the woods, suggested Jekavi.

– Sherath? asked Nemeth. What do you think?

– Don't see why not. But keep well out of sight, Jekavi.

– Did you want to run, or ride? Moonwind asked, nuzzling Jekavi's collar. His face lit up as he turned and stroked her neck.

– I'd like to ride, he said.

– Jump up then, said Moonwind. And hold my mane – we'll be moving swiftly.

– You'd better take this, said Nemeth, handing him his box of thorn darts and blowpipe.

– Thanks. I'll see you all later.

– Be careful, ordered Sienne as the unicorns wheeled away.

– Don't worry, Little Sister, Moonwind answered. I'll take good care of him.

Within seconds Jekavi and the unicorns had disappeared into the woodland, striking northwards up the steep face of the hill above Caprester. The wagon rolled steadily onwards into the town, attracting little notice. A pair of wrangling pups rolled out into the roadway almost under Nut and Bracken's hooves, causing a minor scuffle which was quickly quietened by Sherath as he grabbed at the plunging Nut's noseband and steadied him, soothing him with a hand on his muzzle and a wash of amused Awareness combined with a trace of Command. A young girl ran out and grabbed the two pups.

"I'm sorry," she said breathlessly, looking up and meeting Nemeth's eyes.

"No problem," he said. She straightened up, still looking. A shy smile brightened her eyes, and she called the pups sternly to heel. They fawned round her, snuzzling at her hands and wrinkling their noses ingratiatingly.

"They haven't learnt to behave sensibly yet," said the girl.

"Some of us never do," answered Nemeth with a grin. The girl laughed.

"Where do you come from? And where are you going?" she asked, falling into step beside the wagon.

"From the east, going west," answered Louka with a smile.

"Obviously," added Sherath. "But more specifically, from the other side of Dakesht, and aiming to cross the Whitewater tomorrow."

"Will you be trading in Milton? Or here?"

"Probably not. Our new beasts aren't reliable enough to trade in Milton – though we might get something for them on the other side of the river."

"In Rockton? For what?"

"Presumably there are still some gems coming out of the mines there," answered Nemeth. "Unless the end of the world happened when we weren't looking," he added with a smile.

"Not that I noticed," observed the girl. "And why would you want gems?"

"To trade in Tashik," Sherath replied.

"You're going down to the port?" asked the girl.

"Further than that. We're just meeting up with someone in Tashik," said Farinka.

Nemeth paused to whistle up the three straggling beasts, who caught up at a trot. Flax dropped his chin onto Nemeth's shoulder and tugged affectionately at his cape.

"Now I know who you remind me of," said the girl suddenly, looking at Nemeth.

"Who?" asked Nemeth, curious.

"The beastmaster who used to trade here when I was knee-high. His beasts loved him, too – like that pale one of yours does." She patted Flax's neck.

"What happened to your beastmaster?" asked Sherath.

"He just upped and went, one day. I remember he always said he would. I used to hang around his yard, but he never minded. Hethshah liked children. You really do look very like him," she said again, studying Nemeth's profile intently.

"Just the Southern look, probably. My dam was Southern. Maybe he hailed from there, as well."

"He used to tell us stories of the South." Her eyes went unfocussed, remembering.

"Well, there's your answer, then. No great mystery," Nemeth responded with a smile.

"No. Will you be coming back through Shambury?"

"Probably. But not until next year," replied Louka.

"We might find time to stop, next time," Nemeth told her.

There was a shout from behind them.

"They want me," said the girl. "I might see you next year, then."

"You might," said Nemeth.

***

It was dusk by the time Jekavi rejoined them, a young roebuck slung over Moonwind's withers in front of him.

"See anyone?" asked Jevann.

"No. Not a soul," he answered, swinging down from the unicorn's back. "But we met some wolves," he added, grinning.

– Did they bother you? asked Farinka.

– They were quite civil once I'd explained I was only passing through, he answered, meeting her eyes with laughter in his own. The unicorns acted as interpreters, until I got used to the idea. Wolf Awareness is very different once they know they can communicate with you.

The other Children were instantly alert. – How? Why? What way different? The queries came thick and fast.

Jekavi sat down by the fire and started deftly skinning the deer. – To begin with, the Awareness feels almost dog-like, you know, you've felt it. But once the unicorns started talking to them, it was completely different. They weren't just Aware, but using the Awareness like we do – probing, searching... intelligent. I gathered that wolf is to dog almost what Elf is to man – or what unicorn is to packbeast. We have a great deal in common with them. They didn't mind me taking a roedeer – there are plenty up there. It's been a good year for them. I really enjoyed being with them for a while – their attitude to their pack is the same as ours to our pack – if you'd call it a pack. Once we'd started communicating, it was easy – but starting was strange. You have to be a wolf, in your head ... weird ... he paused for a few moments, remembering. Nemeth and Sherath exchanged a quick questioning glance.

... and then you can Hear them, in a way, as well, Jekavi continued, almost as if he had never paused. But I suddenly knew what fur and a tail would feel like if I had them, and it felt completely natural, which was possibly the strangest thing about it. Or the second strangest; because my clothes began to feel un-natural. If I weren't an Elf, I wouldn't at all mind being a wolf, he added thoughtfully.

Sherath laughed.

Nemeth's Awareness caught and held Jekavi's. – I think I know what you mean, he said softly, the Awareness searching. Yes, you've changed, haven't you? he added with a smile, and for Jekavi's Hearing only.

– Grown, amended Jekavi. Just found another bit that was hidden.

Nemeth smiled.

***

Two of the new beasts pulled the wagon into Molaxter; somewhat hesitantly, but they pulled it. Sunshine joined Nut, pack-carrying, at the rear of the wagon, and Bracken was turned loose to join Flax and Agouti enjoying their second day off. The other two new beasts were rapidly becoming accustomed to carrying a variety of smaller Children, and the sun had put in an appearance. A brisk breeze had all but dried the track, and the low stone walls and bushes close to the roadside through the edge of the town were adorned with unlikely-looking blossoms of freshly laundered clothing.

"I don't know about you, but I could murder a couple of pints of good ale," remarked Nemeth, his eyes on the tavern.

Sherath looked across at him. "Why not? It seems quiet enough."

The innkeeper had come out onto the paved frontage, hearing the sound of wheels.

"Well?" asked Jekavi. "Do you suppose he'd trade?"

"It's what innkeepers do best," said Nemeth with a smile, approaching the man.

"A good day to you," he called.

"Aye, it is. How can I serve you?"

"Will you trade food and drink all round for three-quarters of a roedeer?" asked Nemeth as the wagon drew to a halt.

The innkeeper laughed. "How far round is all round?" he asked, his eyes on the Littlest Ones looking hopefully at him.

"A score or so," said Tarke. "We can add a sack of nuts to the venison, if it helps."

"You're in luck – if you're prepared to stop for a couple of hours. The name's Smyal," he added, gripping Nemeth's forearm.

Nemeth laughed and returned the grip. "Your parents were blessed with commendable foresight," he said. "I'm Nemeth."

Smyal chuckled. "You're not the first to say that. Your beasts can graze out at the back – so long as they don't bother my chap. They're a good bunch," he added appreciatively. "Do you trade beasts?"

"Yes," said Louka, unhitching the nearside beast. "Are you looking for one?"

"Possibly. Possibly," said Smyal walking over and helping Sienne with the offside beast. "Do you doctor them yourselves?"

"Always," replied Sienne.

"Don't blame you. Our liveryman's fair enough, but he's not the beast doctor that old Khashtan was. The Rockton Dwarves will vouch for that – though they called him Shasht, over there. Talking of beasts, Petter up at the fish stall swore he saw two white ones fording the river a couple of miles upstream at first light this morning – but then he was drinking late last night." Smyal's eyes met Sherath's as he put the harness onto the front ledge.

"He could have been right," said Sherath. "There are a few about."

"Yes, but you don't get near them, do you?" replied Smyal with a grin.

"No, I don't suppose you do," Sherath answered, his eyes alight with laughter. "What sort of beast might you – possibly – want?"

"I'd rather have my own one fit and well," sighed Smyal.

"What's his problem?"

"He's grown a big lump right on his back. Can't carry a pack or a rider, and can't wear harness either."

"Do you want me to take a look at him?" asked Sherath.

"I'd appreciate it. He's not happy about having it touched, though, so watch yourself. I'll just see about getting your meal on the way, then I'll catch him up for you. I assume you'll want small beer for the youngsters, rather than ale?"

"Yes. Definitely. Thank you." Sherath hand-hauled the wagon over to the wall as Smyal went in to the tavern, then walked round to the paddock at the back.

Smyal's beast, a well-proportioned dun with a handsome head, was neck-scratching with Flax when Sherath approached.

"Fair old lump, here," Nemeth remarked.

"Yes, I was just talking to Smyal about it. Hold the beast's nose a minute, would you?"

Nemeth gripped the beast's top lip between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand, resting his left hand behind its ears, and Sherath ran his left hand gently down the solid dun neck towards the lump, feeling both with fingers and Awareness. The beast fidgeted restlessly, threatening with one forefoot, and Nemeth tightened his grip on the beast's muzzle.

Smyal walked over with a rope halter. "Watch him, he'll have your toes," he commented as the dun beast stamped down on the spot where Sherath's foot had been a split second earlier.

"Idiot animal," said Sherath, patting him. "This is nothing serious, Smyal – just a lump of very hard fat, like a cyst – but right where he doesn't need it."

"Can you do anything about it?"

"Yes, no problem." – Long thorn, I think, he said to Nemeth.

– With extreme care, Nemeth replied. It wouldn't look impressive if you sent yourself to sleep instead. Do you want me to distract Smyal for a moment?

– Please. "Smyal, could you slip that halter onto him?" he added aloud. "We'll walk him over to the tavern, away from the others."

Their own beasts were uncooperatively curious, and followed.

"Go away," said Farinka to them as they reached the rear door, backing it up with Command.

"Could you get the strongest spirit you've got? And some comfrey?" Nemeth asked, turning to Smyal.

"One moment." Smyal went into the tavern, and Sherath quickly extracted a long thorn from his box and gripped it between two fingers. Farinka stroked the beast's muzzle and whispered softly into his ears as Nemeth cleared a few stones from the grass on the beast's off side.

Sherath shortened the lead-rope to bring the beast's nose round to the left, talking to him all the time.

"Good lad, good beast, gently now old son, steady there, quiet now," he crooned in a soft sing-song. "Good lad, there. Sleep now," he added, giving the beast's neck a hard pat and driving the thorn deep into the skin.

The beast crumpled like a half-empty waterskin after a couple of seconds, and dropped to the ground just as Smyal came back out.

"I've not seen that one done in a very long time," said Smyal thoughtfully, looking down at his beast. "Not since Khashtan's time," he added.

Nemeth's eyes met Sherath's, a curious gleam in them.

"Domina, keep your hand on his neck," advised Sherath. And please make sure that thorn doesn't come out until I'm well ready, he added, letting Farinka's hand slide under his to hold the thorn in place.

He stood up. "Trick of the trade," he told Smyal, taking the flask of spirit from him and pouring some into his palm, scrubbing it round his hands.

He went round to crouch alongside Nemeth by the beast's back, took the offered knife and poured a few drops of spirit on both it and the skin over the lump, smearing them along the blade and into the fur with his fingers and then handing the flask to Nemeth before making a clean inch-long slice in the skin over the centre of the ugly lump.

Nemeth held the sides of the skin apart, and Sherath felt round the underside of the lump with the blade of the knife held lengthways between his fingers, separating it from its surroundings and lifting it out.

"Comfrey, please," he said to Smyal, who was watching in fascinated silence. A leaf was placed in Sherath's outstretched hand, Nemeth sprinkled it with spirit, and Sherath rubbed the spirit into the leaf and then squeezed the juice from the leaf onto his hands. He stroked the juice round the edges of the cut.

"You can let him go, now," he said to Farinka. – And slip that thorn out.

Farinka slid the thorn from the beast's skin, turning it between her fingers and pushing it into the ground. She didn't even notice the scratch, just keeled over and hit the grass like a stone.

"Oops," remarked Sherath softly, catching Nemeth's eyes and laughing. He looked up at Smyal. "She's not used to watching this sort of thing," he added, sacrificing her dignity without a qualm, very Aware of Nemeth's shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. "Nemeth, you'd better get her clear before he gets up."

"Okay," said Nemeth, lifting her, still laughing, and moving a couple of steps back before sitting down cross-legged with her cradled against his chest. – That can't have been anything like a full dose, surely?

– No. She'll be awake in a minute.

"I recall doing exactly that when my wife had our first child," said Smyal, grinning.

"How many have you got?" asked Sherath.

"Six, now. A rare handful, they are, too. And one that's sort of adopted the village; nobody knows where she came from, though Allie found a burned-out wagon up by the big ring around the time she first showed up. Funny little thing," he added thoughtfully.

"Funny in what way?" asked Louka.

"Well, she hardly talks much. Sings, though, a lot of the time. Plays her little wooden pipes and dances, and takes herself off into the woods for hours, sometimes days, at a time. She came back with what I'd swear was wolf hairs all over her one time." Smyal grinned again. "Probably crawled into an old den to explore, I expect. If she's not gone off into the woods again, she'll be somewhere watching you lot. You'll recognise her by the black pup she has. When she first came here she spent a fair bit of time with our youngsters, but then they began teasing her because of the way she speaks. Called her 'stupid baby', and suchlike. One day one of them took it a bit further and pulled her hair."

"What happened then?" asked Louka.

"The pup warned the girl off, growling, and when she didn't back off, he bit her hand. Her mother told her she'd been stupid as well as a bully, dressed the bite, and told her not to do it again. Since then, most of them avoid her most of the time. And she's not stupid at all, not by anyone's measure. Learns very fast and works for her keep. You know, in her first week around here she wandered into the kitchen garden and watched me weeding, fascinated. Since then I've not had to pull a single weed – it's the first thing she does every day when she wakes. And she wandered in to the Widow Kaydee's barnyard one morning, and watched her milking the goats. Now Kaydee, she has trouble with the joint-swell in her hands, and milking the goats can be a hardship for her. So the wild child has been milking Kaydee's goats, morning and evening, ever since. We adults all keep an eye out for her, but she's fiercely independent." He smiled, his eyes meeting Sherath's.

"We'll keep an eye open, see if we can see her," said Sherath. "All you need to do with this beast now is clean this part of his back over with camomile and comfrey wash three times a day, and keep resting him until it's fully healed. If the cut doesn't look as though it's keeping clean, put a camomile poultice on it. You should be able to work him within a few weeks."

"That's grand. That's the price of a beast you've saved me, there – I owe you more than a meal for that."

"I'd gladly swap the price of your beast for a full keg of ale," said Nemeth. "It's a fair way between one tavern and the next once we get past Rockton."

"You've got it," said Smyal.

Farinka stirred suddenly, shaking her head to clear it and trying to snap herself awake.

– Steady, Domina; not too fast, said Nemeth, tightening his arms briefly round her. "Okay?"

"Yuh. That was clever, wasn't it?" she said, looking up into Nemeth's eyes, still bright with amusement, and then sitting up carefully.

"Don't worry about it." – Sherath and I have both done that one before now. More than once. Unnerving, isn't it?

– This is true, said Sherath.

They turned Smyal's beast loose in the paddock again with their own animals, and went around to the side of the inn to join the rest of the Children, most of whom were sitting on benches by wooden tables eagerly anticipating a meal. The smell of freshly-baked bread and roasted meat was wafting out of the inn's side door. Out on the street, a group of the village's own children were laughing and chatting with some of the littlest ones. Sherath quietly scanned what of the rest of the village he could see, and finally noticed a small girl sitting, solitary, on the branch of a tree a little way along the street. Lying below, with his back to the tree's trunk, was a half-grown, jet-black wolf pup. Sherath grinned.

"See over there in the tree?" he said to the others. "And take note of the 'black pup'!"

Jekavi turned to look, then he laughed. "I'm going to go over and say hello," he said, rising. He sauntered along the street, and made eye contact with the pup. – Hey there, baby, he said quietly to it. The pup dipped his ears, wagged his tail, stood up and stretched, and then stepped forward to greet him, all wriggly back and wagging tail. He crouched by it, letting it ecstatically wash his face with eager little whining noises. Only once he and the pup had greeted each other did he look up into the tree. "Hello, up there! I'm Jekavi. Who's he?" he asked, pointing to the wolf pup.

The girl in the tree jumped lightly down. "Kin," she replied, pointing to the pup. Then, "Kaaia," pointing to herself, and "Jekavi," pointing back to him. She had a shaggy mane of wavy hair the colour of beeswax, golden-amber eyes, much-patched clothing, and a delighted smile.

"Come back with me and meet the others?" suggested Jekavi. "Our little ones will love your pup," he added. Kaaia looked at him consideringly for a while, then took his hand in hers, and hopped and skipped alongside him back to the inn. Kin followed, gambolling, on Jekavi's other side.

As they approached the little group of their own and the village's youngsters, the village children drew aside, glancing sideways at Kaaia. Asha looked into Kaaia's golden eyes, then into the pup's.

– That's a wolf, she remarked with a smile, crouching down by Kin.

Kaaia's face lit up even more, with a delight such as Jekavi had seldom seen. – He's kin, she said. All the Elves' eyes swung around towards her, and a warm wash of affection and welcome flooded over her. Kaaia heaved a huge sigh of immense relief. – You like him! And me, she added, following them to the tables in the inn's garden.

The meal was entertaining, partly because as the Elves talked and ate together, Kin and Kaaia watched them with almost identical expressions in almost identical golden eyes. If Kaaia had had prickable ears, they would have been pricked just as Kin's were. Even the tilt of their heads as they concentrated first on one person, then on another, was almost identical. She said almost nothing, either verbally or mentally, but the changes in her level of curiosity and alertness were easy to pick up; there seemed to be a way in which she and Kin were communicating that was not exactly Voice and Hearing, but after a while became almost easy for the others to understand. Within the music of her mind there was a kind of inclusiveness towards the others which shut out the villagers, adults and children alike, so it came as no surprise when, as they rose to take their leave of Smyal, she went to him, tugged his sleeve to attract his attention, and said, "I go with them."

Smyal blinked. "Did you ask them?" he asked her, crouching down to her level.

Kaaia scowled slightly at him. "I go with them. They like me. They like my Kin."

Smyal stood, turned to Sherath, and raised an eyebrow.

"Smyal, if she's happy to come with us, and you're happy to let her, then we're happy to have her," Sherath assured him. "None of our little ones would dream of bullying her," he added. "It's just not in them."

***

Tarke stood looking at the waypost on the meadows above Rockton. "That's fairly new," she said, running her fingers along the freshly carved wood. "Milton-under-Edge." She crouched and let her fingers trace the ancient carving in the mossy stone beneath. – Molaxter. I wonder how long it will be before they've forgotten? she said to Sherath.

– So long as we don't forget, it doesn't matter.

– But this was an Elven place. Men came much later.

– And the stone will still be there long after the wood has rotted. Besides, Smyal still calls his tavern 'The Packhorse at Molaxter' – didn't you notice the sign? Freshly painted, too.

– Does he? I didn't notice.

– Nemeth did. From quite a distance.

They broke into a run to catch up with the wagon, overtaking Flax, Agouti and Nut, who broke into a series of frog-hopping twisting bucks before cantering to catch up and then trotting alongside them, snorting and shaking their manes in the wind.

"Shall we go on through Rockton and set up on the other side?" called Sienne.

"And come back in to trade? Yes, can do. The market flag's flying, it'll be crowded; little ones into the wagon, again," answered Sherath.

– I gather the unicorns are going over the hill, said Louka. I wouldn't fancy skipping about on those tracks.

– You're not a unicorn, Sherath remarked.

– No, nor a goat, she retorted. Sherath laughed.

"Why don't we stop here, swap Flax and Agouti over with those two who are hitched up, and then one of us can stay behind and get the beasts into a pen while the rest of us go on through?" suggested Farinka.

"Why didn't I think of that?" asked Sherath. "Good idea, Domina. Except it needs to be at least two of us. To be safe."

Sienne drew the beasts to a halt, and the exchange was quickly made.

They picked their way carefully through the crowded main square of Rockton, Nemeth leading, Sienne and Louka on the front ledge, Jevann and Jekavi close to the rear wheels, Thani and Kuli riding double on Sunshine, with Tarke walking between Nut and Bracken, one hand on each pack – and the ten smallest lying under a layer of hides in the back of the wagon. An invisible envelope of alert combined Awareness surrounded them, reaching out into the crowds.

"We'll catch up with you later," called Sherath, leading two of the new beasts and turning off towards the pens.

"Okay," called Tarke, waving a hand casually back at him. Farinka led the other two beasts away, following Sherath towards the stallsman.

He turned to face them; an inch or two short of Farinka's height, and at least twice as heavy; seeming almost carved from a combination of compact muscle and very dense bone. He looked first at Farinka, then at Sherath, his deep-set chocolate-brown eyes suddenly twinkled.

"We've not seen your kind around for a while," he said quietly to Sherath, running a hand across his own almost white hair.

Sherath ducked his head briefly and echoed the movement, never dropping the eye contact. "I know. Stay quiet about it," he whispered, returning the smile.

"Discretion is my middle name," the Dwarf answered softly. "If you're intending to sell those beasts, I've got a buyer for you. Pen them here." He opened the rails to the nearest pen and shepherded the beasts gently in, running his hands gently and knowledgeably over their backs as they passed, before turning away and calling to someone in a language that sounded very much like someone comprehensively clearing their throat.

Another Dwarf broke away from a huddle of people conversing in quiet undertones and came towards them. He stopped and looked at the four beasts.

"They drive?"

"Drive, pack or ride."

"Have they worked as a team?" The second Dwarf slipped between the rails and moved among the beasts, his hands running rapidly over backs and legs.

"No. But any of them will work double with any other, so they should settle to teamwork quickly," said Sherath. "They're still pretty green," he added as an afterthought.

"Rising four," said the Dwarf, peering into the beast's mouths. "Did you want stones or marks for them?"

"Stones, preferably."

The Dwarf turned and looked squarely at Sherath, his face creasing into a craggy smile. "Now that I like," he said, holding his hand up, palm forwards and fingers spread. Sherath locked his fingers with the Dwarf's, and said a single word in Dwarvish, for which he was rewarded with a friendly pummel on the chest.

The Dwarf reached into his pocket-belt and pulled out a handful of cut stones, glinting many-coloured against his rough palm, the fingers of his other hand still locked with Sherath's.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Yes."

The Dwarf tipped the stones into Sherath's free hand, and unlocked his fingers. He gave Sherath another friendly slap on the arm before turning away.

The stallsman winked up at Farinka. "Nicely done," he said.

– That was quick, said Farinka.

– Yes. One thing to remember, Domina...

– What's that?

– Never haggle with a Dwarf. They seriously don't like it. He glanced down at the stones in his hand before transferring them to a pocket. It's also unnecessary – he gave us a very good deal.

----

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