Free Legacies by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

stiffened, turning in the saddle, looking toward the group of rams leading the flock.
    Alucius watched. Two of the nightrams had lifted their heads, and tossed them, before lowering their horns. He could sense the smoldering feeling in each ram, even as his grandsire rode toward the pair, projecting disapproval. Both black-wooled rams looked up, either at the sound of the herder or his Talent-projection—or both.
    Alucius smiled as the pair backed away from each other, and the calming voice of Royalt murmured across the flats. Belatedly, he cast out his own Talent senses again, but he could sense nothing. Had what he felt been just the smoldering anger and jealousy of the rams? That was always a problem, but gelding a ram reduced the strength of his wool—and the value. So his grandfather only gelded those males who were so intractable that they always wanted to fight for dominance, and it was as though the others understood. Certainly, after a gelding, the other rams were far more manageable, sometimes for months.
    Another glass passed, and Royalt had turned the flock due east, through an area that had seemingly received more rain, and where the new quarasote shoots were more plentiful.
    Once more, Alucius had begun to sense the uncertain something, edged in redness. Another ram building up to a challenge? What else could it be? Then, a feeling of red-edged cold darkness rushed over him.
    â€œAlucius! Get that rifle ready. Sandwolves somewhere near here, maybe even sanders. Look sharp!”
    Alucius had the rifle out and cocked. He glanced eastward, but the ewes grazing there seemed unperturbed. To the north, though, two of the rams had lifted their heads, and two of the younger males—one of them was Lamb—had started to move toward the flock leader.
    Apprehension, if not fear, radiated from them.
    Alucius rode northward, toward the violet-red feeling and the rams, who had formed a semicircle facing to the northeast. He reined up to the east, just slightly forward of the nightrams. The lead ram pawed the ground and snorted. Even Lamb snorted, although he did not paw at the red ground between the quarasote bushes.
    Seventy yards or so to the north of the rams was a more open space, a good thirty yards across with no vegetation at all. There, the red-sandy soil shivered. One stonelike projection broke the surface, and then another. Then, there were two blocky figures less than two thirds the size of a man. The sanders were tan, and their skins sparkled in irregular patches, as if crystals shone through in places. The eyes were silvered green, also hard like crystal. Neither wore clothes, but Alucius could see only the same rough skin all over, without breasts or udders or any visible animal or human organs.
    â€œAim for the spot where the chest and neck join!” Royalt called.
    Crack! A shot followed Royalt’s call.
    Belatedly, Alucius fired his rifle. His first shot missed. The sander shook itself and started toward the rams. Alucius recocked the rifle and fired again. The heavy bullet struck the upper arm of the creature, and it turned toward Alucius and the gray.
    From well behind and to his left, Alucius heard a frantic bleating, but the sander he had hit and scarcely jolted was lumbering directly at him.
    He cocked and fired. Crack! Sections of skin, like rock chunks, fragmented away, and the sander slowed. He fired again, and a larger expanse of crystallike skin broke off from the sander.
    Abruptly, the creature shuddered, and halted. As Alucius recocked the rifle, it seemed to melt back into the sandy ground. He glanced toward his grandsire, but the first sander was lumbering northward, well out of range for a good shot.
    Alucius turned the gray toward the sound of the bleating, a sound followed by snorting. He rode almost a hundred yards toward the rear of the flock, where as Alucius neared, a younger nightram hurled himself against a reddish tan sandwolf, nearly three yards long, with fangs