Herd Mentality
Chapter 1, Duty
"Oh my mistress," answered the mare, "if you were in Narnia you would be happy, for in that land no maiden is forced to marry against her will."
Chapter 3, The Horse And His Boy
For the truth was that in that golden age when the Witch and the Winter had gone and Peter the High King ruled at Cair Paravel, the smaller woodland people of Narnia were so safe and happy, they were getting a little careless.
Chapter 12, The Horse And His Boy
The first part of this is taken from my previous Horse and Her Girl, with some variations. There is no need to read that story to follow what occurs here. The remainder of chapter is new. Rated T in this chapter for some naughty Otter talk though they are not as vulgar as in previous iterations.
Come now Gentle Beasts and Birds, Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve, that might you hear the Tale of the Willful Filly. The Tale of the Willful Filly is told in cave, nest, and den, in wood, mountain, meadow, and pond, so that we might remember it. For though Dwarfs build, and Birds fly, and Fauns dance, Naiads flow, and Dryads green, the Good Beasts of Narnia remember. So, Friends, heed my words. Stop and listen with your sensitive hearts so that all may know this lesson of duty and tradition, rights and law, the Courage of the Willful Filly, the Healing of the Valiant Queen, the Judgment of the Just King, and the Wisdom of the Otter. Harken to me now.
It begins thus.
Hwin was not sure what she was expecting from her long dreamed of return to Narnia. There had not been time to think about it in the secret journey across Calormen with Aravis. Once Bree and Shasta, that is Prince Cor, joined them, Bree and Aravis had done most of the talking. The perils and problems of Tashbaan had followed and then there had been the terrifying race across the desert to warn Archenland and Narnia of Rabadash and his invasion.
Once the army was defeated, there had not been time then, either. It was all merriment, a victory won, a Prince returned, Aravis settled (Hwin hoped), and celebrations. Only then had she really been able fret about her actual homecoming. Her worries had been relieved very much by meeting her Monarchs, the King Edmund and the Queen Lucy, who were very gracious and most grateful for Hwin's own part in the drama.
Hwin had been abducted from her Herd as a timid foal. She had ventured too deeply into Archenland to sample its green grasses and gone too far from her Herd and the protection of her Kings and Queens. She had been captured and sold into slavery to be a Tarkheena's dumb riding horse. She now returned to Narnia as a much wiser Mare, praised by her Monarchs, and a hero.
Whatever it was that she had expected in rejoining her ancestral Herd in Narnia, Hwin was sure that this wasn't it.
"No grass is sweeter," said Copper between mouthfuls.
"You are right about that," replied Melba. "That colt of yours is growing fine, Flora. Make sure he gets variety in his diet for strong bone growth."
Flora laid back her ears. "I've raised three foals already, Melba. You just watch your own filly, thank you very much."
"So, Hwin, the grass isn't as sweet in Calormen, is it?" Copper said, not bothering to look up from her eating.
"Well," Hwin began.
"Of course it isn't," Serge said, striding up to check on his Mares.
Hwin let out a weary sigh and swished her tail, pretending it was a fly that annoyed her, rather than the stuffy Stallion. She had tried to express her views before but the Talking Horses simply refused to believe that anything could be as fine as Narnia. How they could speak with such authority when they had never left this admittedly lovely meadow, she didn't understand. Never again would she complain of Bree's I-know-it-all manner. Bree had become a much more humble Horse after his experience with Aslan and in fact he did have a wide and varied experience.
Very much unlike her present, dull company.
Serge's head shot up and he let out an irritated snort. "There's another Stallion coming."
The Mares' heads all came up too and they looked about, inhaling deeply.
"It is Bree," Hwin said, recognizing his familiar scent.
"Oh! He's that new Stallion!" Flora said, craning her neck about. "He's very handsome."
"Young Stallion like that should be settling down with Mares in his own Band," Copper said, returning to her eating.
"Are you going to join his Band, Hwin?" Melba asked. "You two would be so well- matched. You're getting up there, too. Imagine, five years old and no foal to call your own!" Her whinny was not kind.
"He's got no manners, that one, growing up in foreign parts," Serge said with an angry whicker. "He shouldn't be poaching on my Mares! I'll take it up with the King Edmund, I will!"
Hwin had finally had enough. She stomped her hoof angrily. "Oh, go eat some grass, all of you! Bree is my friend and I am going to speak with him!" Laying back her ears, she snaked her neck toward Serge and nipped him on the shoulder. "Serge, I have met the King Edmund and received a commendation of valour from him, and I assure you, he would not like you claiming I am your Mare when I have told you I am not yours and am not a member of your Band."
With an angry snort of her own, Hwin trotted off to see Bree who, contrary to Serge's ridiculous insults, was politely staying well away from the Band. He had learned Herd politics very quickly after four different Stallions had chased him away from their Bands when all he had tried to do was introduce himself.
"Bree!" she nickered. "It is wonderful to see you!"
He was looking warily beyond her to Serge who was acting like an idiot and prancing and blowing. Bree was a Calormene combat-trained war horse and he could have knocked the ridiculous Stallion over with no effort. Instead, Bree just turned his back on Serge as not worth his notice.
"Hello, Hwin. Sorry if I caused a problem for you with your Band."
"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Bree." She rubbed her head along his neck and he returned the greeting with a nicker and gentle nip. "I've not joined a Band, certainly not that one."
"How are you?" Bree asked, sniffing her all over. "You are annoyed."
"Promise me, Bree, that you won't tell anyone, but I never thought I would wish to be around horses who did not talk!"
Bree stretched his neck and whinnied his laugh.
They turned together and began walking toward the River.
"You seem different," Hwin said. If she was annoyed, he seemed strangely quiet. "Is everything well?" Bree had had difficulties with this transition as she had, though his had been hard in different ways. She had suffered from too much Talking Horse company and as a new Stallion with no Band to call his own, Bree had had very little.
"I've come to say good-bye," Bree said. "I'm leaving the Glasswater Creek."
Bree had spoken this way before, sounding silly and falsely self-important. He didn't sound that way now.
"Where are you going?" Hwin asked.
"To Cair Paravel. The General offered me a position when we were in Anvard. I'm going to join the Narnian Army."
"Oh," Hwin said, feeling very deflated.
"I'm sorry," Bree said. He looked over his shoulder, in the direction of the Band. "I don't belong here, at least not yet."
"I think it's a good decision, Bree," Hwin said sadly. "You do know a lot about cavalry and war. You provided good intelligence to Narnia after the Archenland siege."
Bree's ears pricked in surprise. "How did you know about that?"
"I heard the King Edmund say so." And to his credit, Bree had not boasted of it at all. "King Edmund told King Lune you were able to identify the Calormenes, that you helped with the ransoms and repatriations, and had very good information about the Calormene capability. You have knowledge the Narnians do not have."
The Stallion rubbed his head against her shoulder. "Thank you, Hwin." They had reached the Creek's edge and one of the Otters came bounding up. The Otters at Glasswater were very loud and rude, but had been doing, Hwin had learned, very important work eating venomous snakes that Calormene agents had planted in the Creek several years ago. The Otters liked Bree because he had taught them a soldier's Calormene curses.
"Oi! It's that sodding Horse!"
Sodding in this context, was a compliment in the language of Otters.
Bree lowered his head so that he looked the Otter in the eye. "You're Gnash, aren't you?"
"Yeah," the Otter said. He was prancing with eagerness. "Gimme something and I'll keep 'em all away."
"Ecdadini gitten sikeyim," Bree said.
Hwin snorted.
The Otter looked at her with a crafty expression. "It's a good one?"
"Oh yes," Hwin assured him. "Very foul." While Tarkaans were politely spoken around Human females, they could be very profane around horses. She had heard her share of curses in several Calormene dialects.
"What's it mean?" Gnash asked.
"It is a very rude insult to someone's ancestors," Bree said.
"Bugger that," the Otter said with a cackling laugh. He spun about, splattering mud. "Oi! Clodpoles!" he shouted to his fellow Otters further down the Creek. "Ecdadini gitten sikeyim!"
"He's a good mimic," Hwin observed.
Bree laughed in his bree-hee way.
They walked together, following the Creek, not bothered by the Otters, though they could still hear them. Finally, they stopped and just stood together, swishing the flies off each other's backs with their chopped off tails. She and Bree were more comfortable with not speaking than the other Talking Horses, probably because they had both had to be silent for so long.
Behind her, Hwin caught movement and instinctively flinched for the danger.
"Squirrels," Bree said calmly. "It's nothing." He turned his head. "And one of the Fillies from your Band followed you."
"That's Rose. When she's not watching over the young Foals and Yearlings she's following me about," Hwin said. When do you leave?"
"Now," Bree said. "There's no reason to stay. I just came over to say good-bye."
"Oh," Hwin said, laying her ears back and her head down. But he didn't move to leave and neither did she.
"Hwin, are you happy?" Bree finally asked.
"No," she admitted. "Not really. Maybe my hopes were too high. Maybe I'm too Calormene, or too Human, or too much a dumb horse. I don't know what I expected, but I didn't risk everything with you and Aravis and Prince Cor to spend my days listening to silly Horses talk about whether the grass is better at one end of a small meadow, or another."
Bree nickered his agreement. "Come with me to Cair Paravel, then."
"Oh Bree, I'm not a war horse," Hwin said, though she was very touched.
He snorted and sounded more like his old, arrogant self. "No, but I'm sure there's something you could do. King Edmund and Queen Lucy did say that if we ever needed anything, we should just ask."
"But to do what, Bree? I was a Tarkheena's mount. I flinch at squirrels behind me!" Hwin sighed heavily. "I'll just go back to the Band." She rubbed her head sadly against him. "Good-bye and Aslan guide you."
"Good-bye, Hwin. I'll send word of things to you, if I can."
She left her friend and the noisy, swearing Otters and trudged back to Serge and the Mares with heavy hooves and a heavier heart. At the meadow's edge, she swiveled her ears and heard Copper chewing and talking to herself and Melba and Flora arguing over whose foal was eating better. Serge was trotting about huffing and puffing like a bellows and when he saw her, let out a piercing, compelling whinny that every Mare knew meant, "Come here, now!"
Hwin turned around and galloped back the way she had come. Bree was just starting to ford the Creek, up to his knees and the Otters were all swimming around him, exchanging good-natured insults.
"Wait! Bree!" she called and slid down the bank as quick as she was able. "I'm coming with you!"
Bree swished his chopped off tail and flicked water all over the Otters. He let out a triumphant bugle and Hwin added her own neighing chorus. "Bra-ha-ha! Broo Hoo!"
"To Cair Paravel and the North!"
ooOOoo
Rose stomped her hoof to shake a fly off her leg. She watched as Hwin and Bree crossed the Creek. The Otters were splashing about the Horse and Mare and saying very foul things.
Ecdadini gitten sikeyim.
She repeated it to herself very carefully. What did it mean? It sounded naughty. Would it be naughty if she said it but didn't know what it meant? She would be scolded and bitten if any of the Horses heard her speak so. Serge didn't want that sort of low talk in his Band and Flora, his lead Mare, didn't either.
Ecdadini gitten sikeyim.
Maybe she could say it and the rest of the Band wouldn't know what it meant.
Where was that place Hwin had talked about, Kalorman? It sounded very far away and hot. Hwin had said there had been a great battle in Rkinland in a place called Anvar? Anvil? Rose had never been anywhere except up and down the Glasswater Creek.
She raised her head and inhaled, opening her nostrils to catch all the scents of water, grass, Trees, Otters and Birds. Bree and Hwin's scent was already fading.
Hwin was off to Cair Paravel to see the Four. Just like that.
Rose had always wanted to go to Cair Paravel. She'd heard the Otters talk about it. She'd even seen the Queen Susan once with her Wolf Guard – he was terrifying. Such a large carnivore. She shuddered, starting at her withers and shook all the way down. It was said the High King had two Cheetahs.
Hwin was gone. With Bree. To Cair Paravel. Might they be eaten on the way? She supposed Bree would protect Hwin but without a Lead Mare, how would Hwin and Bree know where it was? Would they get lost? Serge and the other Mares always said there was no reason to leave the Glasswater. The grass was sweet, the water was clean, and there weren't any predators.
Instead of going off to Cair Paravel, Rose had thought that Hwin might leave Serge and go form a Band with Bree. Rose was nearly two years old and it was time to start thinking about leaving her home Herd and going to another, which the Mares talked about all the time. She'd heard it said that some Stallions used to keep all their Mares, even their daughters, and mate with them in time, but they didn't do that sort of thing anymore. Serge would find a Stallion he could trade with and she would go to a new Band and that Band would send a Mare to Serge's Band in exchange.
If Hwin went to Bree's new Band, Rose hoped she could go, too, and then she could hear their stories all time. From the way Hwin talked, Bree was a nice Stallion. Rose liked Hwin and Hwin liked Bree, so Rose thought she would like Bree, too. The problem with this plan, and Rose had thought about it a lot, was that Serge didn't approve of Bree and Rose would never go to a Band if Serge didn't approve of the Stallion. But Bree looked very strong and was a war horse so maybe he could stare down and bully the other Stallions and impress Serge and then Serge would let her go.
But Bree wasn't going to form a Band. He was going into the Army. And Hwin was just… going. They were going to Cair Paravel together but they weren't going to be together, a Stallion and his Mare.
Rose stepped out from under the Tree and said, "Thank you for your shade." The Dryad quivered and one of his branches dropped to gently caress her flank as she went down the slope to the Creek. Her hooves squelched in the mud. Hwin and Bree's hoofprints were still there, filling up with water. Rose stepped around the larger marks; her own hooves were still dainty by comparison, closer in size to those of a Filly than a mature Mare like Hwin and nowhere near as large as Bree's.
At the Creek's edge, she looked carefully up and down, and behind her and side to side, just as the Herd had taught her. She swiveled her ears and heard the Otters splashing and swearing. There were Squirrels in a tree on the other side of the Creek arguing. There were dumb birds singing and ducks paddling about. She inhaled deeply but didn't smell anything she didn't recognize and know to be safe.
"May I have a drink?"
There were swirls and whirls in the water so it might have just been the water flowing or it might be the Naiad. Rose didn't know what the Naiad would do if she didn't want anyone drinking from her water but it was always polite to ask first.
"Thank you." She spread her front legs out, lowered her head, and drank. She couldn't imagine any water tasting better. Still, she wasn't going to be like the Stupid Colt in the story who got eaten by wolves because he didn't keep his eyes open when he stooped down to take a drink (the stories of the Stupid Colt and his sister, the Willful Filly, always ended badly). She kept her eyes moving and looking all about. All she saw were the ducks; the female had a nest and was sitting on the eggs and soon there would be ducklings and that was very exciting. Rose loved babies. She watched the Foals in the Herd and loved to play with them and teach them what things were good to eat.
Rose raised her head again and drew back from the muddy bank to the firmer ground. She tasted a tall grass but found it bitter. The Glasswater meadow was much sweeter.
She swished another fly away and listened to the Otters. They were saying foul things but they were laughing and playing, too. She was so confused by what Hwin had done. Hwin was not going into any Stallion's band. Hwin would be by herself with no Stallion to protect her. What did a Mare do if she wasn't in a Stallion's band? Rose had never heard of such a thing. It sounded very naughty. Unsafe. Unnatural.
Hwin had disobeyed Serge. That was very naughty. No one disobeyed Serge.
And just then… "Rose!" Serge bellowed. "Come back at once! I won't have you being poached by another Stallion!"
Rose blew out with a sigh. She was still too young for any poaching, but not for long. The Band all said she needed Serge's protection. But who would protect Hwin, a Mare all alone in a big world full of carnivores?
With one final look in the direction Bree and Hwin had gone – that must be the way to Cair Paravel – North, Bree had said- Rose turned her head back to her father and Stallion. "Yes, Serge. I'm coming."
"You're moping," Serge said, laying his ears back as she pulled herself up the bank.
"No," Rose replied. "I liked Hwin. I'm sorry to see her go."
Serge bared his teeth and nipped her rump as she passed. "We're better off without those troublemakers. Hwin spent too much time in foreign places. She didn't understand her place in the Band."
Rose didn't repeat what she'd heard Hwin say. Hwin had never been in the Band. She didn't want to be in the Band. She wanted to go to Cair Paravel instead and talk to the Kings and Queens and do something.
"Have you been to Cair Paravel?" she asked the Stallion.
He snorted, disgusted. "It smells like a bloody barn filled with dead things and there are carnivores everywhere. There's no reason to go there at all when everything a Mare needs or wants is here in the Glasswater with her Band."
Rose walked back to the Herd. Flora whickered a welcome and Rose rubbed heads with Copper, Melba, and the other Mares. She was safe. Loved. Protected. The others watched out for her. She let out a sigh, lowered her head, and took a mouthful of the sweet grass.
ooOOoo
Hwin's scent was long gone from the Herd. Rose had heard Serge say that Hwin had surely ended up badly. The Mares all told stories about the Willful Filly who went too far from her Herd and disappeared forever. There was always a game at the end to see who could think of the most horrible end for the Willful Filly. Eaten by wolves and Kidnapped by slavers were the two that usually won. Hwin wasn't a Filly but she was willful and she had been kidnapped by slavers, and she might have been eaten by wolves on the way to Cair Paravel.
The afternoon was warm enough that Rose decided to venture from the Dryad's shade to the Creek. She picked her way carefully down the bank. Two of the Otters were rooting around in the mud and crunching on snails. All of the ducklings had hatched and so the ducks were very busy. Rose could hear the Naiad. Her voice was high and thin and she was singing.
Not the frost that freezes fell,
Not falling snow that icy chill,
No such cold that makes me cry;
But my love's heart grown cold to me.
Bright as a jewel when first it's new
but love grows old and waxes cold
And fades away like the morning dew.
And fades away like the morning dew.
"Oi, you there!"
Rose turned her head and the Otters came splashing up to her.
"You, Horse, you come here a lot."
"Hello," Rose replied. Otters were rude but they weren't dangerous.
"I'm Bitel," the female said.
"Gnash," the other Otter said, his mouth full of crunchy shells. "Who are you?"
"Rose. I am part of Serge's Band."
"Regular arse, that one is," Bitel said.
"Always trying to keep us from pissing in his precious water!"
The Otters both laughed.
Rose laid back her ears. "Ecdadini gitten sikeyim!"
The Otters laughed louder. "Little nag has got a mouth 'sides teeth!"
She thrust her head down and toward them and snapped her jaws. "And my teeth are bigger than yours and I can bite!"
The Otters laughed louder and danced away. "Good answer, Horse!" Gnash cackled. "Give us another!"
A flutter overhead drew Rose's attention; it was a very large black Bird flying toward them.
The Otters both stood on their haunches. "'That's going to be a Cair Paravel Crow," Bitel said. "We're due for a visit."
Cair Paravel! The Crow might know what happened to Hwin and Bree and if they made it safely!
"It's Harah," Gnash said, as the Crow flew closer.
"I can see that, you clodpole," Bitel snapped. "The Orange Lady's sent our payment."
"You there, Otters!" the Crow, Harah, called. She settled in the Dryad next to them. "Eirene and Lyall are coming from Cair Paravel."
"Tell us something we don't know, you git!" Bitel called. Both Otters were scanning the other side of the Creek. They seemed to know who, or what, was coming.
Rose raised her nose and caught strange scents. One was Horse-like, but not quite. It was different. And the other...
She blew out and backed up, alarmed.
Gnash turned around. "What's the problem, Horse? It's not like that dickwad Tiger of King Edmund's is coming."
"Yeah," Bitel said. "Lyall's alright. For a mangy fleabag of Wolf."
"Wolf!" Was that the blood she smelled? It was so frightening.
"Sir Lyall, now," Harah said from the branch.
"Oh, that so?" Gnash sat back on his haunches.
She should run back to the Herd and warn the others. But Rose really felt very silly about it. The Otters and the Crow didn't care at all that a wolf would be appearing on the other side of the Creek at any moment. Surely, she could outrun a wolf. And, she realized that she didn't even have to run faster than the wolf; she only had to outrun the Otters, and that she could surely do. The wolf would eat them and she would be safe. Maybe he wasn't even hungry.
She took a tentative step forward.
"Lyall was knighted into the Lion's order by the Queen Lucy herself after Archenland," Harah said.
Rkinland! That was the faraway place where Bree and Hwin had been. Surely, one of these visitors might know what had happened to them.
"Who is Eirene?" she asked, wondering about the strange Horse-like scent.
"She's a Centauress, Captain in the Army, and mage," Harah said. "You've not heard of her?"
"No," Rose said. That a Centauress was coming explained the not-quite-a-Horse-but-almost smell. She had never met a Centaur or Centauress before and was very curious. Rose took another step forward.
She could hear the sounds of a very big almost-Horse coming through the wood on the far side of the Creek. She didn't hear the wolf but she could smell how awful he was. "They're coming," she said in a whisper, scared and excited both.
The two broke from the cover. Even smelling them first, Rose backed up again; she was very alarmed. The Centauress was so big - twice Rose's size, larger even than Serge. And the wolf! Why was nobody worried about that awful creature? At any moment it could leap across the Creek and rip them to shreds; Serge had warned against such predators many times and wolves were the worst of all.
Rose stamped and tossed her head.
"Hullo!" Eirene called.
"You better have something for us, Horse!" Bitel cried.
"And you had better have something for me, Otter!"
The Centauress and the wolf walked down the bank and entered the Creek.
They were going to cross! They were coming here!
With a snort, Rose backed up, out of the soft, muddy footing, onto firm grass, and ready to turn tail and run. The only thing that kept her was that the Otters and Crow weren't afraid at all.
Above her on the Dryad's branch, Harah the Crow clicked her beak and black feathers drifted down and landed on Rose's nose. Rose shook them off. "Be easy," Harah told her. "You are as safe with Eirene and Lyall as with your Kings and Queens."
That was easy for a Bird to say; she could just fly away. Rose watched warily and saw the Naiad, who was usually very shy, rise up from the water. The wolf and Centauress were saying thank you to the Naiad for their safe passage. They sounded very polite. Of course it wasn't as if a wolf or Centauress could hurt a Naiad.
"Gnash, go get the bark," Bitel said.
"Bugger off, you twat. Get it yourself."
"Oh bother," Harah squawked. She flapped down from her branch, pecked Gnash on the head and flew out of reach before the Otter could even bite her. "They didn't come all this way to bandy words with you two," the Crow scolded. "This is Narnia business! So do your duty and get the counting or it'll be no oranges from Banker Morgan!"
Rose had no idea what Harah meant but the Dryad must have understood because he dropped a limb and gave Gnash a shove.
"Piss off!" Gnash snapped.
"You heard the bleeding Bird!" Bitel shrieked. "Go get the bark or no oranges!"
With another string of foul words and a nip to Bitel's tail, Gnash dropped to all fours and ran off.
Eirene crossed the Glasswater first. She was a very strong, powerful looking, dark brown Horse in the back but a tall Human in front with shiny metal and leather trappings and things across her chest.
"Well met, Friends!" the Centauress said. She looked back, over her broad shoulder. "Lyall?"
The wolf swam and scrambled across the Creek and up the bank. He lowered his head; Rose tensed. But the wolf just shook himself and water went flying everywhere. "You could have come over to our side, Bitel, since you were already wet."
Rose was shocked. The Wolf spoke! He really was a Talking Wolf. He didn't growl, snap, or lunge. He smelled horribly and looked terrifying, but he had a low, soft, very beautiful voice, though Rose could see his gruesome fangs when he spoke.
"Are they in there?" Bitel asked, bounding forward to Eirene and Lyall. It seemed greatly daring to Rose. The Wolf would just have to reach over and he could bite Bitel in half. But Bitel didn't care and Lyall didn't, either. Lyall just sat on his haunches and scratched water out of his ear.
Bitel stood up on her back legs and pawed at the Centauress.
"Yes, I brought the oranges just as Banker Morgan has promised," Eirene said. She opened a sack slung from around her neck and lowered it so Bitel could peek inside.
Bitel squealed. "Hand those over, you nag."
Rose caught a sweet, fruit smell. It must be the oranges.
The Centauress pulled the bag out of reach and Bitel was left pawing at empty air. "You owe me the counting first, Otter."
"Gnash went to get it," Harah said.
Rose suddenly realized everyone was staring at her.
"Hello, Friend," Eirene said, speaking to her. "I'm Captain Eirene, Cavalry Company, Cair Paravel."
"I'm Lyall," the Wolf said, speaking again in his gentle voice. "I don't bother with titles and such."
Eirene swished her tail at him but the Wolf stepped to the side. Lyall raised his great, shaggy head and Rose could see his nose move. "You are frightened, Friend," the Wolf said, looking at her carefully. "Is something wrong? Do you need aid?"
"No! I'm fine!" Rose said, even though she wasn't. She stamped nervously. The Herd had said that predators could smell fear; Eirene was part Horse and she wasn't afraid of the Wolf but she could surely stomp him to death. Lyall smelled all wrong but he sounded very nice and he wasn't acting like a threat at all. "I'm Rose."
Gnash came running back, bounding along the grass alongside the Creek. He had a piece of bark between his teeth. He stopped in front of Eirene and stood on his haunches but he was so short and she was so tall, Eirene couldn't reach the bark he held in his paws. To help, the Dryad extended a long, thin branch, took the bark from Bitel and gave it to Eirene.
"Thank you, Friends," Eirene said, looking at Gnash's piece of bark. They all were very solemn. "So the numbers continue to drop?"
"Yeah," Bitel said. "We caught four little snakes just after the spring thaw that were coming out of winter hibernation; this is the first Spring we've not found any eggs."
"Even to the headwaters?"
"From there all the way down to the sea," Gnash said. "Nuthin."
The Otters were always so rude; Rose was surprised at how really serious they were about this.
Eirene pulled the bag off that was slung over her neck. "Well done, Otters. Narnia thanks you for your guarding of the Glasswater. For her part, Banker Morgan is most especially grateful for your duty and vigilance."
Gnash and Bitel both rose up on their haunches with excited chirps and this time when they began pawing at the bag, Eirene let the oranges fall out.
It was very funny to see the Otters roll the oranges around and swear at each other. They had apparently done some duty involving catching snakes that was important to Narnia and were getting a reward for it. Rose could tell that Eirene was pleased and Lyall was wagging his tail. When one of the oranges started sliding down into the Creek, Lyall pushed it back with his nose before it rolled into the water. It looked like the Naiad was trying to reach the oranges herself as there was a thin stream of water moving up toward them from the Creek.
In a flurry of curses and mutters, the Otters rolled the oranges away. A ripple of water followed them.
"The Naiad here likes the oranges because they float," Eirene said. "They'll make a game of it until the oranges are battered beyond recognition and truly disgusting."
From her branch, Harah fluffed her feathers again and more black feathers floated down. "I'll do another pass and speak to the Eagles before we go. We're bringing good news back to Cair Paravel, no mistake!"
"Thank you, Harah," Eirene said as the Crow flew off.
Lyall dropped onto the ground with a sigh and yawned. Rose flinched at his long teeth and the scent of rank, meat-eater breath.
Proving that Serge was right about how carnivores could understand their prey, Lyall said, "Don't worry, Rose, I am not going to eat you."
"You aren't?"
Lyall yawned again. "I could make a joke about having just eaten a whole cow before we arrived, or that I think horse is too gamey, but I'll spare you my ill humour and just say emphatically that Talking Beasts do not harm other Talking Beasts."
"Never!" Eirene looked at her and Rose lowered her head. The Centauress' ways were very direct, but she spoke very gently. "Rose, no matter what you've heard about the Long Winter, you have nothing to fear from another Narnian. We're all here today to protect everyone in the Glasswater."
Eirene walked forward and put her arm out. Rose shied a little but Eirene knew just how to scratch that place on Rose's own withers that only another Horse could reach. Feeling very brave, Rose put her own neck out and nibbled on Eirene's flank.
"Don't suppose anyone would scratch my belly?" Lyall said. "Didn't think so." The Wolf stood and shook himself again and Rose knew she had to speak up or they would leave and she would lose her chance.
Her words came out in rush. "Do you know Hwin? Did she make it to Cair Paravel? I've been ever so worried. Is she alright? Is she alive?"
"You know Hwin and Bree?!" Eirene exclaimed. "And of course you do! They came from the Glasswater, didn't they? Yes, they are both very well!"
"She's Ambassador Hwin now!" Lyall said, wagging his tail again. "She did such great service to Narnia in our dealings with the Tisroc, may he rot forever, their Majesties appointed her to Galma. We saw her ship off barely a ten-day ago."
This all sounded so exciting! "Ship?" Rose asked. "What's Galma?"
"Galma is an island off the northern coast of Narnia," Eirene said. "You have to get there by sailing on a ship, which is something that floats on water and moves people and things from one place to another."
Rose had seen logs floating on the Glasswater with turtles and birds on them. She supposed it was the same. "What Band did Hwin join? Which Stallion is protecting her?"
"She's not in any Band," Eirene said. "The crown of Narnia protects our ambassadors."
"And all Narnians," Lyall added.
Rose could see that they were both very serious about the duty to protect others. Lyall had even offered to help her before just because he knew she was nervous and thought she was afraid of something - besides him and his teeth. The Otters were doing the same thing, too, doing their duty to protect Narnia. It made her feel safe beyond what the Herd did. Narnia was a bigger place than she had imagined and she felt better knowing that Eirene and Lyall were out in it.
"And what about Bree?" she asked.
"He is in my own Company," Eirene said, sounding very pleased. "Bree is a wonderful addition to the Narnian Army. He's set a whole new fashion with all the Horses asking the Dwarfs to cut their tails off."
Rose looked back at her own long, fine tail and felt a little guilty. She knew some of the Mares had mocked Hwin for her chopped off tail and now they looked silly indeed for Hwin was a very important Mare if the Kings and Queens had sent her off in a ship to do their work.
But that led to another question. "How did Hwin get to Galma without a Lead Mare to tell her where to go?"
"Captain Nanshe sailed the ship to Galma with Ambassador Hwin aboard," Lyall answered.
"It must be a very big ship to hold a Horse and others besides," she said. She saw a thin branch floating down the Glasswater Creek. "I can't imagine what it looks like!"
"We usually have several ships docked at Cair Paravel," Eirene said. "I prefer overland travel myself."
"I've always wanted to see Cair Paravel," Rose admitted, wistfully. "And now I want to see ships, too."
"There's an easy solution to that," Eirene said. "You are welcome to return with us."
Rose was so shocked she blew out her nose and pawed the ground. "Me?! To Cair Paravel?!"
"Why not?" Lyall asked.
A little seed, wild and hopeful, sprouted in her heart - Yes, Rose, why not? You have Lyall's protection and a Lead Mare in Eirene. Why not go?
And as quickly as it sprouted, the seed died. She was going to another Stallion's Band soon. She couldn't just run off to Cair Paravel to see ships and maybe go all the way to Galma to see Hwin. If she acted like the Willful Filly, no Stallion would want her. If she left, Serge wouldn't be able to trade her and that would weaken the strength of her ancestral Herd. Other Stallions would start challenging Serge and try luring the other Mares away. It would bring shame to her and her Band.
"Thank you for the invitation, but I have to stay," she told them. "I'm almost old enough for Serge to send me to another Band."
"Oh, I see," Eirene said. "You've not had your first season yet?"
"No," Rose said.
"Soon though," Lyall said.
Rose wondered how the Wolf knew what she herself didn't.
"Serge will select another Band for me and he'll get a new Mare in exchange."
Rose felt like maybe she had said something impolite because Eirene and Lyall, who had seemed so warm, suddenly seemed unhappy.
"No little irony there," she heard Lyall mutter, and Rose didn't understand what the Wolf meant.
"Quite." Eirene looked at the Wolf then drew herself up tall and swished her tail. She spoke with the same sort of authority as any Stallion or his Lead Mare, which was shocking to her. She wasn't accustomed to seeing females acting this way. "Rose, I want you to know that no Narnian is forced to bond with another if he or she does not wish it." Eirene stomped a hoof and mud splattered everywhere with the force of it. "You are old enough to make your own decisions and if you do not want to go into another Band, yet, you do not have to."
Rose knew how to explain it in a way Eirene and Lyall would understand. "It's my duty," she told them. "Just like you have your duty, I have mine."
"And so you do," Lyall said. He bent his front leg and gave her a little bow.
Eirene let out a horse-like sigh that came from deep in her belly. "Just so long as it is a duty you want to undertake, Rose. And you can do your duty to Band and to Narnia and still come to Cair Paravel, too."
Rose didn't see how that was possible. "Thank you for the news about Hwin and Bree."
"If you change your mind, send word to me or Lyall," Eirene said.
"We monitor the Glasswater very closely to keep everyone safe," Lyall added. "Bespeak the Dryad here." The Tree rustled. "Or the Naiad, or any of the Otters, or any passing Bird. Any of them will get word to us at Cair Paravel."
Then, Lyall and Eirene said their good-byes and turned back the way they had come. Rose stayed with the Dryad and watched them cross the Glasswater. On the other side, Harah flew down and landed on Eirene's back. They climbed up the bank and followed a path into the trees that swallowed them up.
The Dryad dropped a branch and gently scratched her withers. Rose waited until the scents and sounds of Wolf and Centauress faded. Then she turned away and trudged back up the slope. It was time to go home.
Chapter 2 to follow, Rights
This story in two part will take a darker turn and conclude next week.
The Dryad's song is taken from bits and pieces of the old Scottish tune, The Water is Wide, originally known as Waly, Waly, gin Love be bonny
My thanks to Starbrow who understood what I was trying to do here and encouraged me to push somewhere I've not been before.