The Shape-Changer's Wife by Sharon Shinn Page A

or the sound of an oncoming rider, the stallion reared back in alarm, striking at the air with his ironshod hooves. Glyrenden’s merciless hand would bring him down again, and the black would invariably plunge forward, racing ahead as if to outrun some unimaginable equine horror. The stallion’s distress was duly communicated to the coach horses, who would strain against their harness and grow entangled or unmanageable. They changed teams three times on the road during the first day of their journey, and each set of hired animals reacted with the same panic and unease when Glyrenden and his wild beast galloped past.
    â€œI can’t believe this,” Aubrey murmured the third or fourth time they were forced to come to a halt because the horses fouled their lines. “Why does he keep the brute? That horse will kill him if he’s not careful.”
    â€œAnimals don’t care for Glyrenden,” Lilith replied. “This horse isn’t as bad as some others.”
    Aubrey glanced over at her, but she was looking out the window and did not meet his eyes. They were passing through the westernmost edges of the forest near the wizard’s home, and there was nothing to see but the endless line of interchangeable trees. Aubrey thought she was still angry at him for something he had said, or not said, or failed to understand when they examined the gowns of Glyrenden’s choosing; but he could not very well ask her what. And yet she seemed relaxed, her palms open on her lap and her head resting against the scuffed upholstery of the seat. He turned his head to watch the identical view out his own window, and slowly the miles passed.
    At nightfall, they stopped at a small inn. Glyrenden virtually had to wrestle his big black to a standstill in the courtyard, while three ostlers stood in a tense circle, ready to leap forward and help. The instant the sorcerer was out of the saddle, the horse calmed; one of the young stableboys led it away with no trouble whatsoever.
    The hired coachman was less sanguine. He had barely thrown his reins to a groom when he jumped from the box and strode over to confront the wizard. “That’ll be as far as I go on this road with you, sirrah,” he cried. He was small and feisty, a workingman proud of his skills and his self-reliance. “Never seen such a man for rousting up the cattle! One look at you and they all turn white-eye edgy! That’s it, no further. You’ll have to find another gig to take you on tomorrow.”
    Glyrenden’s face grew cold. “I paid you in advance for two days’ travel there and two days back,” he said icily. “You will take us where I say.”
    The coachman spit expressively. “That for your money,” he said. “You couldn’t give me enough gold to ride alongside you another day.”
    â€œAnd yet I think I could,” Glyrenden murmured, the tenor of his voice changing. He stared unwinkingly at the hired man, who glared back in defiance. Eyes fixed on the coachman, the wizard seemed to settle, to gather darkness around him; his black eyes were drained of all light and his pale face lost its faint color. The driver shifted on his feet but refused to look away. Glyrenden held the gaze another minute, another. The driver did not move again. Aubrey and Lilith sat wordlessly in the coach.
    â€œAnother twenty crowns should keep you happy, don’t you think?” Glyrenden said at last, in a pleasant conversational voice. “Ten now, ten when we complete our journey.”
    â€œTwenty crowns,” the man repeated, his own voice oddly flat. “Should keep me happy.”
    â€œVery good,” Glyrenden said, and handed over a roll of gold coins. “We’ll expect you to be ready for us in the morning. Quite early.”
    â€œI’ll be ready in the morning,” was the dutiful reply. “Early.”
    Glyrenden nodded and strolled over to open the carriage door.