The large white stallion meandered at a leisurely pace, seeming to sense the peace felt by his riders. As Khiara settled back against his chest, Vanator slipped his hands around her waist to pull her closer. The Drykas leaned forward to bury his face in her hair, inhaling a draft of cold air scented with the herbs and ointments she used to cleanse her dark locks. He smiled as they rode towards the tree in silence, content to simply be away with her from the busyness of the pavilion. They had been scooted off by Kashik, suggesting that the two of them spend some time alone. Vanator's lovely first wife was most likely annoyed by the doting of her husband, affectionate and intent on making sure she did not do anything strenuous. Kash was showing, her smooth abdomen beginning to swell with their first child. Vanator's concern for her was unnecessary, the dark-skinned woman protested graciously, insisting she was Drykas and would be able to kill a olidosapux up until her birthing pangs began. She probably could, Van had pondered, and still look gorgeous.
So this moment was for Khiara. The Drykas scanned the surroundings, knowing the keen senses of the dogs would detect any danger long before he could. He shifted forward until he could make as much contact with the Vanthan as he could. She seemed immune to the cold, but as the bitter wind picked up, the horseman wanted to get as much warmth from her as he could. Van too delighted in having her so close, and Khiara was not the only one whose mind wandered to warmer, more intimate thoughts. Khiara had learned to overcome much of her shyness over the past season, no longer hesisant to lay with him in the pavilion, even with Kashik in the pile of furs with them, though he found private venues as well, where the Vanthan could feel less inhibited. On occasion, the quiet northerner would surprise him with her creativity and passion.
As Vsenri eased to a stop beside the bare, gnarled tree, Van barked a command, and the dogs set to sniffing out the ground around them, moving in a rough circle around the tree, horse and riders, before setting their wet noses to sniff the air. Khiara and Vanator rocked slightly as the stallion shifted the weight on his back legs, now contently tugging at tufts of prairie grass. The hounds returned, tails wagging and looking up at the humans with anticipation. Vanator gave Khiara a gentle squeeze, leaning from behind to set a kiss to her neck. He then slid from the tall horse to the hard ground with a thud of his boots, turning and holding out his arms to help Khiara dismount. Keeping hold of her hand, Van took a few steps towards the tree and snapped off a short branch, handing it to his wife. Breaking one of for himself, he lead Khiara a short distance away. The dogs, Avas and Ruhl, pranced beside them, already aware of what would happen next. Van stopped, releasing Khiara's hand. Glancing at Avas, Vanator raised the stick in his hand and flung it away. Avas took off immediately, racing through the grass after the makeshift toy. Looking at the other anxious Luvanor then to Khiara, he chuckled. "You better throw that, or Ruhl is going to knock you down to get it!"
Avas returned in short order, the branch between her teeth. Van reached down to rub the hound's head before tossing the stick again into the grass. His gaze lingered on the horizon. The horseman's mind wandered to Backlash, how the Strider would devour leagues of grassland beneath her hooves with him on her back. He thought of their last moments, how it seemed as he looked into the mare's eyes, that he was looking into Tamar's, knowing her spirit dwelt in the faithful animal. His grin faded, and he glanced at Khiara, one of two beautiful wives, and felt a pang of guilt for lingering on what was behind him. He mustered a smile for her, not wanting to dampen the joy of their stolen moment. |
