Chapter 8 - White Beauty
He stirred in the darkness of the trees, instinctually tracking the movement with a practiced eye that pierced the twilight. The morning mist slithered in between the Sequoias and settled upon his wet nose, informing him that they were near. The scent was strong this close. They had been stalking it for the past two sunrises since they had left the great frozen lake.
He knew the pack surrounded him nearby. Although they were concealed in the white of the forest, he could feel their presence. The shriek of the Niquilas overhead heralded the coming sun, informing those dwelling beneath that daybreak was approaching. Apart from Nipha, the snow eagles were the only creatures in the Trui’Quirré with keener senses than the Huskamau. For this reason, no Niquila prey was safe and for those small, unfortunate animals, the cry of the Niquila was a warning of impending doom.
The Huskamau, however, did not warn. They did not announce their hunt. They went in silently, swiftly, and deadly. Their prey never knew of their presence until it was too late. This rider, however, was not prey. She was something else. She was not a wolf, but she was familiar, just as his father had been familiar. She was just like him. He would never forget. It was his purpose for being there. He was charged with one last duty before he could rest. Just one more task and then … peace …
. . .
Chalice found the trail on the west side of the mountain easier and the horses tired less because of it. The days were cold and the nights were colder, but they had just enough provisions to sustain them. In the afternoon on the fourth day, they halted by a stream to enjoy a late lunch and water the horses. It was the first stream that they had encountered on the west side in which the surface wasn’t completely frozen over. This was a convenience, as they did not have to break through the ice to refill their water skins.
Gnawing hungrily on a morsel of bread and cheese, she looked up from her saddlebag and saw her. She was on the other side of the snowy stream and had come for the water as well.
“Jeremiah!” she whispered excitedly and he turned. Then, he saw what held her attention. He didn’t move a muscle, but stood there gaping as Bunejab waddled up to stand in between them.
“I don’t believe it!” Jeremiah said under his breath. He turned to her and saw the question in her eyes. “You know which horse that is, right?”
She shook her head. “No. Should I?”
“Most people do. That’s White Beauty. She’s also known as Hooves Bane. Maybe you’ve heard the name.”
She frowned. “That sounds familiar. How do you know it’s her?”
“No other horse could survive this high up the mountain, well, not without Taluqua leaves. Also, there is no other wild horse in the Realm, at least, not that I know of.”
Chalice turned to watch her as she drank from the stream. She was the most beautiful horse she had ever seen. She was pure white with four dark hooves and dark eyes. Her forelock, mane and tail were as white as the snow and they draped down her forehead, neck and rear, blowing smoothly in the cool wind.
“Why is she called Hooves Bane?”
“Because no one can catch her. She’s too fast. Many people have tried and failed. Some have even run their horses to the point of lameness in the attempt. It’s amazing that she has come this close to us. She usually keeps a healthy distance from people.”
“She’s beautiful!” Chalice murmured slowly. The horse drew up its head and gazed directly into her eyes from across the stream. Suddenly, Chalice’s mind cleared and then she knew.
“Nipha,” she said without thinking. It was the first word that came to her, as though it was a faint whisper from souls passing through generations of time.
“What’s that?” Jeremiah looked at her curiously.
“That’s her name.”
“What?” he asked skeptically, furrowing his brow. “Right! How do you know?”
“I just know.”
“You mean you just made that up.”
“No, that’s her true name.”
Jeremiah smiled and shook his head, rolling his eyes. “I suppose that means something in Angaulic then? Am I right?”
“Yes,” she replied quietly. Just then, the horse threw back her beautiful head and jumped to her right, tossing snow in the air. Then, she cantered off through the trees.
“So,” Jeremiah said in a patronizing tone. “What does Nipha mean?”
“It means … Snow … that’s …” She trailed off, mesmerized, watching the horse canter away, wondering what she was and how she had gotten there. Jeremiah decided not to tease her further and turned to refit his saddle, straightening his bag on Banner’s back.
Chalice felt hot breath near her ear and she turned to stare straight into Sunny’s muzzle. He was standing there as if to say: “Hey! What about me? Did you forget me?” She grabbed his reins and scratched his neck.
“I didn’t forget you, boy,” she whispered warmly to him.
After refilling their water skins, they remounted and were soon back on the trail. Three days later, in the afternoon, they reached the base of the west side of Mt. Vaassa where the light was already fading from the height of the mountain that blocked the afternoon sun. All the same, it was blessedly warm and Chalice felt relieved. At last they had made it.
At the first crossroad they came to, Bunejab motioned them to the right and they continued to the next village that lay along the road. Bunejab had said they were going to Woodrock. He had shown them the location on Chalice’s map that morning and she had been anticipating arriving there all day. She was looking forward to a hot bath and a soft bed in a nice inn somewhere. When they arrived at Woodrock, however, Chalice wasn’t sure if they had made a mistake.