The Druid Queen - Douglas Niles [44]
With grudging satisfaction, he saw the two trolls seize the horse around the neck and drag the kicking creature toward the barn. At least he had some authority left.
Trying unsuccessfully to regard that small triumph as a victory, he turned his back on the scene of massacre and returned to his troops.
* * * * *
As soon as she reached the skies over the great lake, Robyn sensed that something was indeed wrong in Myrloch Vale. The High Queen soared almost effortlessly in the body of the great white hawk. Her eyes, keen beyond human conception, studied each leaf, each shady bower and rock-bound grotto in the valley sprawled around her.
The vista below appeared to be as pristine, as vibrantly healthful, as she could have hoped. Crystalline lake waters glistened in the light of the sun, and even the dank fenlands lay beneath a dense blanket of verdure. Tall pines waved their crowns proudly in a fresh breeze, and in places where the forest opened into meadow, dazzling wildflowers gleamed like priceless gems in a carefully crafted setting.
Yet something intangible, invisible to sight and sound and even smell, lingered in the air around her, telling her that violence had indeed invaded this place. As distressing as the discovery itself was the knowledge that she had not realized this fact earlier, even though Corwell was but a short distance-as the goddess reckoned distance-from this, the heartland of the Earthmother's realm.
She dove, building up tremendous speed and skimming within a few feet of the water's surface. Huge lake trout dove away from her shadow, but she ignored the prey, intent upon her mission. Nothing unnatural disturbed the waters, and soon she soared upward to crest the woodlands at the lake's northern shore. For hours she swept across the vast wilderness, still tormented by her earlier sense of distress and even more agitated by the fact that she could not more specifically identify it.
The coming of darkness surprised her and finally drew her down to the earth, where she landed in a forest of shadow. Shifting her shape as she touched the ground, she stood once again as a human woman, feet planted firmly beneath her.
But more than merely human, she was a druid-a druid who stood upon the most sacred earth known to her faith. The land welcomed her, and she felt strongly the blessings of the goddess. Yet still the sense of danger lingered, though with no more precise indication than before.
Guiding herself by scent and touch more than sight, since the forest was nearly fully dark around her, she found several ripe apples. She had brought some aged cheese, but preferred to save that for an emergency. The druid made a pleasant supper of the fruit, and finally she curled in a grassy bower to sleep until dawn.
She awakened before then, however, sitting upright with a start. An irresistible feeling came over her, a feeling that she was not alone.
"Who is it?" she hissed into the darkness, sniffing the air and listening for any sound. She heard a faint fluttering sound, as of wings beating quickly in the air.
"I get to ask that! Who is it?" The squeaking voice brought a wave of relief washing over Robyn, even as she wanted to reach out and strangle a scrawny neck for the fright she had felt.
"Newt!" she cried with a laugh, giving up her irritation in an instant. "How did you find me?"
"How many white hawks do you think we have out here, anyway? And how many humans camping on a pile of Corwellian sharp cheese? Downwind, I could smell it from miles away! Say, that's the aged one, isn't it? I remember the taste… a nice bite, just a little aftertaste…"
"Here!" Robyn said, still laughing. She reached into her pouch and pulled out a block of the cheese. "But first I have to see you!"
Immediately a soft light diffused Robyn's bower, coming from