The Pillars Of The World

effort.
    Her own muscles protesting, Morag rose from the bench and also followed.
    Ari set one bucket down for the mare to drink. She crouched, placed her right hand in the other bucket, and closed her eyes.
    Morag tensed as she felt power gather and flow. She could almost see it shining through Ari’s skin.
    “The cleansing heat of fire to burn out what is not welcome,” Ari said quietly. “The strength of earth to heal.” Rising, she picked up the bucket and poured some of the water over each of the mare’s wounds.
    Morag wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but she felt a stab of disappointment when nothing happened. Ari, on the other hand, studied the wounds and nodded. Then she sighed. “That might help her enough until Ahern takes a look at her. Although I’m not sure there’s anything even he can do.”
    Morag kept her eyes on the mare. You know the Bard but don’t recognize the Lord of the Horse?
    Yet you know him, too .
    “May I leave the horses here while I go to Ahern’s?” Morag asked.
    Ari hesitated. “You’re tired. Why don’t you rest for a while? I can walk over to Ahern’s and ask him to come over here to see the horses.”
    Morag almost agreed, then decided against it. She wanted to talk to the Lord of the Horse on his own ground, where she wouldn’t have to worry about revealing who he was. She shook her head. “Rest would be welcome, but there’s no need for you to interrupt your own work.” She tipped her head toward the horses, who were now eagerly grazing in the meadow. The dark horse looked at her longingly, waiting to be free of saddle and bridle before joining the others. “Talking to Ahern can wait for a few hours.”
    Ari picked up the buckets and smiled ruefully. “I do have plenty of work, especially since I have to decide what to pack and what needs to stay here.”
    Alarm surged through Morag. “Pack? You’re leaving the Old Place?”
    Ari’s friendly expression turned wary. “I’m getting married. Neall and I are going to live in the west.”
    “But—”
    Death whispered, I’m coming to this place .
    Morag shivered and bit her tongue lightly to hold back the words. Death was coming to Brightwood. Not today. Perhaps not tomorrow. But Death was coming.
    “In that case,” she said, “that’s all the more reason for you not to take time out of your day.” No matter what it means to the Clan who lives here, the sooner you’re gone, the better. Although even the west of Sylvalan won’t be far enough away if we don’t do something to stop the Black Coats .
    She walked back to the well with Ari, who again refilled the buckets and left them for the horses.
    “Would you like a bath?” Ari asked.

    Morag groaned. “A bath. I could kill for a bath.” Seeing the way Ari’s eyes widened, she smiled. “I should phrase that differently, shouldn’t I?”
    “Definitely.”
    Morag laughed. “A bath would be most welcome. But let me get my horse settled first.”
    After the dark horse was unsaddled and the gear stored in the cow shed, Ari led Morag into the cottage.
    “Come in and be welcome,” Ari said.
    Morag wasn’t sure how Ari managed to heat so much water so quickly, nor did she care. The bathing tub was big enough for her to sink down and soak her torso in the well-heated water as long as she kept her knees bent. When the water began to cool, she washed herself, then used the two pitchers of water Ari had left beside the tub to wash and rinse her hair.
    She hadn’t been this clean since she and Morphia had fled down the road through the Veil. After drying off, she wrapped the towel around herself and grimaced at her clothes, not eager to put them back on.
    A knock on the door was followed by Ari cautiously poking her head into the room. She held out some clothes. “These may not fit well, but they’re clean.”
    “Thank you.”
    “I’ll fill a washtub, and you can let your clothes soak for a bit.”
    Morag smiled. “There isn’t anything I own that I would want to put on a clean body right now.”
    Ari returned the smile. “I have the same feeling after working in the garden all day.”
    Morag dressed quickly, then followed her nose to the kitchen.
    “Would you like some soup? Or would you like to sleep for a while?” Ari asked.
    Morag’s stomach rumbled, answering the question.
    Ari dished out two bowls of soup. Before she could take them to the table in the main room, Morag said, “May we eat outside? I’d like to keep an eye on