Will

"You are nothing like a woman. The taste of you." His words were deep, intent, and wondering. His fingers stroked, and I groaned. He slipped into me, pressing slowly, then more, stronger, as my body opened desperately to him. I shuddered and panted with a throb of welcome, instant, primal, and when his mouth closed upon me again, licking and nuzzling where his touch sank deeper, I cried out and tore at the earth.

"God. Nothing like a woman. But I will have you, Shanglan … my good horse."

I threw my head back, arching with the feel of it. His touch slid deeper, and his lips and tongue closed upon me with ecstasy in their touch. It was fulfillment like nothing I had ever known, power like a thunderbolt, desire that burned and raged within me. He murmured low words of hunger, his free hand stroking and caressing my haunches, his kisses close upon me. His touch sank deep with a pleasure more intense than I have ever founds words for, and I gave myself up to it and let it shake me helplessly. My cries echoed through the darkened wood as Will groaned behind me, his touch stroking me to a frenzy of response.

The sweet, mastering pulse of the pleasure left me gasping and helpless. At last I closed my eyes and lay my down head, shuddering with his presence. He thrust deeper, harder, and more swiftly, until I could not but shudder under his touch, until I must cry out with the goodness of it, until his deep, hungry thrusting suddenly drew and gathered and burst, a pleasure that shot through me in a wild wave. He clung to me as I trembled and gasped with it, and groaned softly against my body, his chest pressed close against me and his lips nuzzling my haunches. He held me through that wild release, stroking my flanks and haunches and murmuring tender encouragement. Then, when I lay panting, slumped upon the earth in exhausted release, he kissed softly down my haunches until his lips found me again.

"Good Shanglan. Give me more of you."

He kissed softly at my body, soothing where he had entered into me, licking tenderly in that way that drove all reason from me. As his tongue slid sweetly and traced the tender flesh, he stroked with his fingers, touching lightly where he kissed until I longed for his presence again. Then at last he drew closer to my body still, leaning his weight over my haunches as his hands gripped my skin. Though my body rang and trembled already with his touch, I shivered to the depths of me to feel the coming of this last possession, this final joining that was as no other.

I threw my head back and pressed my muzzle wildly to him, licking and stroking in a plea for his presence. He returned my touch with kisses hot and wild, and then, half kneeling and half lain upon me, groaning and pressing his naked body the length of my own, he mounted me in true possession. When he came into me, pressing hungrily where his lips and hands had brought me to pleasure, I threw back my head with a cry of utter, joyous release that rang from the trees. He lay his body close upon mine, clinging to me as he pressed within, and his low, aching gasps were sweet to my ears as he sheathed himself within me.

This final joy was a terrible deed to the eyes of men; Will would be scorned by every man who walked if the thing were ever known, hanged, in truth, for the deed they counted vile beyond words. Yet there was no sin in his touch, no bitter usage from he whose low sobs of pleasure came to me in the shape of my own name. As I trembled beneath him, I looked back, and his eyes met mine soft, hungry, and tender, his warm brown eyes that took the strangeness and the beauty of what passed between us, and never left my own as he drove into me with heat and hunger.

His panting cries rose to sweet desperate gasps, and I felt with trembling welcome how he joined with me, hard, wild, and entire. He leaned forward, clutching at my flanks and burying his face against me, and we cried out together as he thrust home. At last he drove wildly into my body, waking me with a power I had never felt, a sense of rightness that all men would scorn, but that I could not but welcome with all my heart. His hands gripped my flanks and he pressed long and close within me, his eyes meeting mine in the shuddering moment. Then I felt the sudden throb and beat of it, the pulse of his pleasure.

He lay there long against me, his body slumped upon mine. His hands stroked softly, and his breath panted deep and shuddering against my flank. When at last I drifted to sleep he was with me still.

When I woke the moon was set, and the darkness near entire. Will was by me, curled naked against my flank, but in a moment he was scrambling up even as I was. I heard it, the noise that woke me, and he did as well – the sound of battle. There came to us men's shouts, the ring of swords, and the whinnying cries of horses. Will snatched up his clothing as he cast about for the enemy. On my feet and testing the air, I knew: the camp. There was smoke, more than the little fires we had left, and beneath the cries and struggle I heard the snarl of dogs.

"Shanglan!" Will caught my nose and pressed a long, desperate kiss to it as he met my eyes. "There is more I would say to you, you know. But I beg you, take me to camp."

I stooped and he swung up upon me, gripping his hands in my mane. Even in that moment it was powerful to feel him there, free, no work of men between us, not saddle nor bridle, halter nor bit. There was only his body, joined to mine, and the memory of him that night, naked upon me. It shot a hot power through my limbs, and I leapt from the mouth of the thicket and raced for the river. In the faint starlight we threaded the trunks in a wild dash and came to the river's edge near a gallop.

There I dug hard to halt, for we saw men – three on horseback, making for the river. These were no foes; they scarce saw us, running wild to the flood and urging their mounts to it at once.

"What news?"

Will called to them as they ran, and one turned to speak with us. His eyes were wide with fear, and his mount danced nervously as he glanced back toward the camp.

"Duke's men. Dogs and archers. John Hart is taken, and a dozen more. Fly!"

With that he took his horse to the river and swam for his life. His comrades had already urged their mounts shoulder-deep, and were turning downstream to swim with the current. Behind us, high up the slope toward the camp, I heard horses coming, and the snarl of dogs. I leapt out into the shallows, then plunged upriver at what pace I could. We must lose our trail in the water, yet they were sure to search along the banks, looking for such tricks as this. I thought they would look downstream, thinking no man would fight the current in a moment of desperate flight. So I struggled up, while Will clung on and looked desperately behind.

Half running and half swimming, plunging as deep as my chest in the holes and pitfalls of the murky bottom, I stumbled over rocks and sunken logs until the sound of my panting filled my ears. Every moment I expected the cry of a hound, or an arrow from the bank. At last Will called out to me, leaning low over my neck and guiding me with his hand.

"Here, Shanglan! The ford is low. On the other side there is safety."

I turned to the midstream, fording the rushing waters over great, flat rocks, smooth but treacherous with slime and water weed. Midway I staggered and nearly fell; Will leapt down to guide my path and brought us to the bank in safety, though near swept from his feet himself. I was panting hard, but stooped to Will as soon as there was space; when he was with me again we flew into the far wood.

Our goal was nothing so sheltered as the cave where we had rested before. It was a mere thicket, deep in the wood, through a sinking marsh that was slow and treacherous to cross. We picked our way from hummock to hummock, and even with Will to guide me I sank, now and then, near to the knee in the clinging quagmire. At last, spattered in mud and wrung with sweat, I felt firmer ground underfoot, and on sound earth we made our way into the fastness of a thorn brake. It was dense and close, and the briars pricked at my flanks as I pushed through narrow gaps into the heart. At last we came to a clearing, with a circle of stones and a few rounds of logs to sit on. Will slid down and looked about swiftly for any sign of others, then came to me. With handfuls of leaves, he wiped the mud from my legs as he spoke.

"We're safe enough for now, but they may come upon us. We must fly if they do. I have no weapon save my knife, and that will be little use against a guardsman's sword."

I nodded, watching his tense, anguished face. I wished that I could give him some word of comfort. He paced, and I sniffed the air and listened long and carefully. I heard nothing – only our own hard breathing from the flight, the trickle of water somewhere near, and the cries of crakes and marsh frogs. I shook my head, and Will seemed to take my meaning; he drew a deep breath and forced some of the tension from his body.

"Best eat what you can," he said, laying a hand on my neck. "It's little enough, and we may need to ride hard this day."

I was hungry and I would go to grass, but I nuzzled him first. It was good to touch him, close and simple. His eyes lit with warmth and met mine, and as he stroked his hand down to my shoulder his voice grew soft and gentler. "Thank you for your aid," he said. His voice dropped to a murmur, and his touch on my coat grew tender. "For all that you have given me."

He kissed softly behind my jaw, nuzzling high near my ear. It was a warm touch, grateful to my heart, and I nosed him gently, returning it. He sighed, his breath brushing soft against my ear.

"Ah, Shanglan."

He said no more. No more was needed. I cropped the rough sprays of grass that grew in that place, and as I grazed he walked by my head, stroking my neck as he had so often when we were upon the road together. It was like, and not like – for in his touch this morning there was a world of meaning, and when he pressed his lips softly to my shoulder my heart and body leapt as one.

Will thought we should wait until midmorning; if others had escaped, we might meet with them here. If none came we would follow the duke's path and see where they were taken. So I dozed some hours, until sun had risen high and Will paced more nervously then ever. Then at last I heard it – a crashing in the bracken, the sound of a man approaching. He was afoot, and weary by the sound of it; I touched Will's shoulder with my muzzle, and in a moment he heard it as well. He stood by me, ready to swing astride to fly, but we held our ground until we saw who came on, ragged in his step and floundering amid the marsh. At last he came into the thicket.

It was Will's friend – the man who had greeted us from the lookout's post when we first came into camp. He was covered in mud, and every line of his body spoke exhaustion. His face was set in pain and suffering, and over the shoulder of his jerkin a grim red stain was spread. He came upon us half-staggering, and when he saw Will he slumped by a tree and stared.

"Will!" His voice was a gasp, low and pained. "Alive! How did you come here?"

"By my horse," said Will, hastening to him. He made as if to steady him, but the other drew back, a strange light dawning in his eye. He braced himself against the tree, and in a moment had drawn his sword.

"Nay!" he cried, drawing himself up. "Stand back." He voice dropped lower, with a taut edge. "I looked for you, Will – all about the camp when our men were taken. I would have saved you, but you were nowhere to be found. Now tell me true – how did you come here, unharmed and unhurried, when half of your comrades lie dead or captured?"

"Peace, Ulrick," said Will, raising up his hands. He stood his ground, his voice soft, but I saw the hurt in his eyes. "It was luck, nothing more."

"Was it?" asked Ulrick, his eyes searching Will's face. There was a dangerous glint in them, and he spoke with rising snarl of suspicion. "Tell me again, Will. How was it you escaped them at the ford? A full score of men lay waiting you there, and yet you came to us. And last night – where were you, when the guard came upon us and the arrows fell thick? No man could find you in the hour we were taken."

Will stood still, his hands raised, his voice level though I saw the struggle it cost him. "Ulrick. It is not what you think. There is a reason."

Ulrick grew wild, and his words came hot and bitter.

"What reason, Will? The same that delayed you in your return? The same that brought you past the ford?" He pushed off from the tree, his eyes wild as his voice rose to an anguished cry.

"What bargain did you make, Will? What price did you pay?"

"None such!" cried Will, and then Ulrick was on him. With a howl of rage he lunged, driving his sword for Will's gut. Will stumbled back, still with his hands up. I saw the blade glint bright, and then I thought no more. I threw myself forward, caught Ulrick hard on his side, and hurtled him back amongst the briars. He fell, and the sword flew from his hand. He scrabbled fast to reach it and I came at him again. As his grasp closed on the hilt I kicked it from him, and in a moment I had his arm pinned under my hoof. He struggled still, but I snatched the blade in my teeth and hurled it from him. Then he looked up at me, his eyes wide. I lowered my teeth and snapped, and he lay still and staring.

Will put his hand to my flank and gave a long, shaking sigh. I looked down at Ulrick, panting, and tried to think what to do with him. That he knew me more than a horse now was plain; his wide, terrified eyes spoke of a fear more than physical. But the sacrifice was well made; Will was safe. He lingered a moment with his hand upon me, then went to take up his comrade's sword.

"Let him up, Shanglan." His voice was low and level. I stepped away from the man; his wide eyes tracked me.

"Ulrick, come up." Will gave him his hand and brought him to his feet.

"Take back your sword. You may have need of it yet. But not, I swear, against us."

Ulrick took the steel, and took some courage in it. He straightened his stance, although he did not take his eye from me.

"What is that?"

Will came quietly to stand by me and stroke my neck. "That," he said, "is what delayed me. And what saved me at the ford. And what took me from the camp last night, when I would have fought and died there like any man of us." His hand moved softly over my coat, brushing the sleek hairs. "This is Shanglan. You need not fear her."

Ulrick backed away, his face pale. "That's a damned witch."

"She is no witch," answered Will. "I owe her my life."

"Then you've made a devil's bargain," said Ulrick. "Send the cursed beast away. She'll bring judgment on us all."

Will looked down. His voice, when he spoke, was low and quiet.

"I will not send her from me, Ulrick. You may have us both, or you may drive us both out. Will you not have us stay, and aid our comrades?"

They stood a long moment in silence, tense and wary. And in that instant a thought began to whisper in my ear.

Ulrick flinched back as I brushed Will's shoulder with my muzzle, drawing his eyes to me. I took a step toward the break in the thicket. I stopped, cropped a bite of grass, then looked at him. I stepped again, cropped again, and looked at him hard, tossing my head toward the path through the briars. He frowned, puzzling. Then he nodded with a look of recognition.

"Ah. You'll go to graze?"

I nodded. Ulrick turned his face away, looking sickened. Will glanced at him, then stepped to me and took my head in his hands. In the shelter of his body, he kissed my nose as he spoke softly.

"Wise girl. Perhaps it's better that he have some time to settle his heart. But mind yourself, and look to us for safety."

I nodded and closed my eyes, nuzzling to the soft brush of his lips and beard as I tried not to show the pang my heart gave me. I lied to him, who was always honest to me. And should the plan unfolding in my mind succeed, I might not see him again to ask his forgiveness. I lingered on that last long touch, storing it away in my heart. Then – for I could not raise his suspicions by taking too heartfelt a leave – I turned and made my way from the thicket, out, he thought, to grass. As I rounded the corner of a heavy trunk, I glanced back at Will. He looked after me, and even in his trouble for a moment he smiled. There was in his warm, lingering glance a memory of the night past, and it stirred my heart even as it strengthened my resolution.

I paused a moment outside of the thicket, straining to hear their talk. I caught Ulrick's low rumble – " ... sell thyself to a witch, Will!" – and Will's answer, softer, so that I could not make out the words. Certain that their minds were on each other, I turned my nose to the marsh.

The thought that had come to me in the glade was this: that Will's errand must surely cost him his life. His comrades were taken by many men; one, scarcely armed, could do nothing against them. They knew Will by his face, and would be on the watch for trickery; no sooner would he be seen than caught. He might sell his life bravely, but there was no hope that he could prevail. But a horse – no one looks for trickery from a horse. I could linger in their camp without every eye upon me. I had hope to succeed – and to save Will.

So I braved the marsh. Without Will's guidance I went witless; twice I sank into treacherous ground, nearly swimming as the mud sucked and pulled at me. Once I felt it close over my back, and then a terror like madness struck me. I thrashed and struggled, my hooves at last by purest chance striking firm ground to which I hauled my trembling body. I rested, but not long; soon, I feared, Will would find me gone, and if he guessed my path he might follow. That drove me – the knowledge that I must go fleeter, and come to the duke's men before him. When I had won through the marsh, covered in mud and aching with effort, I took no rest but set off for the ford at canter. Soon I was scrambling and flailing through the treacherous shallows, and then off and away toward the camp, running for all I was worth.

The duke's men would not come to the town that night – not with men bound and captured, and their own troops weary from battle. They must stop the night in the wood, and that would be my chance. They would press on from the camp, no doubt, and cover many a weary mile before nightfall – yet I might catch them, for they went cumbered with captives and men in armor, and I ran free.

I flew swift along the bank of the river, down past the rapids where Will and I had struggled in the dark of night. When I came to the watering place the camp had used, I swung back up the slope and went to search the path the enemy had taken. Though my task was heavy, as I ran there came a feeling in me – a light, free sensation, the wind in my mane and tail, the cool on my body. For the first time in my life I was alone and completely free. No rope, no halter, no fence restrained me; no man sought to bind me, and no hand held me back. It was a strange, light feeling, and it worked wildly in my heart – a joy with but one thing wanting. Will. Will should share this with me. I would do my duty here, and then perhaps one morning we would ride out together, open to the sun and all the world. My spirit lifted with the thought as I came over the ridge and up upon the campsite.

What I found there tore all joy from me. The ground was scorched, the trunks of the trees blackened with a fire now hours cold. There were men dead, nearly all men of Will's people, left on the ground for so much carrion. Food, clothing, what few possessions they had had – all were heaped in the clearing and burned to a charred ruin. And there in the low cover near me, where he'd dragged himself from the battle, lay Watt. He was on his face in the bracken, two black-shafted arrows shot into his back. I touched him gently with my nose, but he was long cold.