Mercedes R. Lackey and Larry Dixon. Darian’s Tale/Owl01
One
The air was warm, the summer day flawless, and Darian Firkin was stalling, trying to delay the inevitable, and he knew it. He had hopes that if he just lingered enough on this task of wood gathering, his Master might forget about him - or something more urgent than the next lesson might come up before Wizard Justyn got himself organized. It was worth a try anyway, since the very last thing Darian wanted on this fine sunny day was to be cooped up in that musty old cottage. It was worth any amount of physical work to be saved from that fate.

He took a deep breath of the balmy air, laden with the scent of curing hay, damp earth, and growing things, and added another cut quarter-log to his burden of three, the bark and rough wood catching on his shirt and leaving bits of dirt and moss smeared on the sleeve. Would four be enough to qualify as a load? Probably. He headed for the cottage.

Justyn‘scottage decayedon the edgeofthevillage, on theside farthest fromthe bridge andthe road, closest to the Forest. The village itself was atight little square of cott ages with three finer houses, all arranged in neat rows around the village square; the fields farmed by the inhabitants of Errold‘s Grove stretchedout on either sidealongtheriverbank, but on theback sidethere was nothing but a single field of corn and a small meadow where goats and sheep were kept in the winter. Behind allofthat wasthe forest. If hepaused for amoment and listened, it wasn‘t at all difficult to hear the voice of the woods from where Darian stood - all the little rustling and murmurings, the birdsong and animal calls. Sometimes that was a torment, on days when Justyn set him some fool task that kept him pent in the cottage from dawn to dusk.

He put down his burden on the pile at the side of the dilapidated cottage and returned for m ore. He carefully selected three small pieces of chopped wood from the large communal pile; the woodpile lay at the back of the right hand side of thevillage of Errold‘sGrove. Hetuckedthem under his arm and carried them toward the rick-holder at the sideofWizard Justyn‘stiny cottage. Every day

that it was possible, the village woodcutter went out with a team of oxen to find and bring back deadfall from the Pelagiris Forest. He never went far, but then, he never had to;the trees in the Pelagiris were enormous, with trunks so big that six men could stretch their arms around one and not have their fingerstouch, and one fallen tree would supply enough wood for the whole village for a month. Every timethere was a storm, at least onetree or several huge branches would come crashing down. The woodcutter did nothing at all but cut wood; no farmwork, no herding. The villagers supplied him in turn with anything he needed, and since he had no wife nor apprentice, the women took it in turn to cook for him, clean his little hut, and sew, wash, and mend his clothing. The woodcutter was not a bright man, nor one given at all to much thought, so he found the arrangement entirely to his satisfaction - and since the villagers never went into the Forest anymore if they didn‘t have to, it was entirely to theirs as well.

Darian wishedthey hadapprenticed himtothe woodcutter insteadofthe wizard, but hehadn‘t had any say in the matter. After all, as an orphan who had been left to the villageto care for, he should be grateful that they gave him any sort of care at all. At least that was what they all told him, loudly and often.

The cottage was hardly longer than the wood-rick, built strongly at one time, of weathered, gray river rock with athatched roof of broomstraw in which birds twittered all spring and summer long. That twittering was the first thing Darian heard every morning when he woke up. It was an adequate enough - little cottage by the standards of the village, but it seemed badly cramped to Darian, and always smelled slightly musty, with an undertone of bitter herbs and dust. No one ever cleaned it but Darian, so perhapsthat wasthe reason for thearoma. Hedidn‘t really despisetheplace, since after all, it was shelter, but it didn‘t really feellikethe home the other villagers and his Master tried to convince him it was.

When he reached the cottage and the upright supports that would hold exactly one measured rick of wood between them, he set each piece down on the half-rick already piled there with exacting care, distributing them with all the concentration of a fine lady making a flower arrangement. Only when they were balanced precisely to his liking did he return for another three logs. He listened carefully for any sound of life inside the cottage, for after Justyn had told him to replenish their fuel, Darian had left his Master muttering over a book, and Darian had hopes that Justyn might get so involved that hewouldn‘t noticethat Darian wastaking avery longtimeto fetch wood from afewyards away.

There was no sound from inside the cottage, and Darian ambled off slowly, making as little noise as possible until he was out of easy hearing distance. The village was fairly quiet at thistime of day, with most people working in the fields. Only a few crafters had work to keep them in their workshops at thistime of year; most of thethings that people needed they had to make for themselves these days, or hope that someone else in the village had the skills they lacked. Leather and fur were available in abundance, but the tanner worked hides mostly in the fall, and there was no official cobbler since Old Man Makus died. The blacksmith did all metal work needed, and with forty -odd families to provide for, he generally had enough work to keep him busy all of the time. The miller was also the baker, keeping flour and bread under the same roof, so to speak. He baked almost all of the bread and occasional sweets for the village, so that only one person would have to fire up and tend an oven. Women would often put together a stewpot or a meat pie or set of pasties for the evening dinner, and take it to him to put just inside the oven in the morning. Then they could go out to work the fields, and fetch the cooked meal back when the family returned for dinner. The womenfolk of Errold‘s Grove did their own spinning, weaving, and sewing, mostly during the long, dark hours of winter, which was when the men made crude shoes and boots, mended or made new harnesses and belts, and carved wooden implements. Once every three or four months, everyone would take a day off work to make pots, plates, storage jars, and cups of clay from the banks of the Londell River, and in a few days when those articles were dry, the baker and the woodcutter would fire them all at once. Those went into a common store from which folk could draw whatever they needed until it was timeto replenish the crockery again. The only things that had to be brought in from outside were objects of metalthat required more skill than the blacksmith had, such as needles and pins, and bar-stock for the smith. Virtually everything else could be and was made by the people living here. The village was mostly self-sufficient, which was a source of bitter pride, for no one wanted to come here anymore. Errold‘s Grove could have dropped off the face of the world and no one would miss it.

I certainly wouldnt, Darian thought with bitterness of his own.
He had to pass through one of the busier corners of the village to reach the woodpile, going around both the smithy and the baker. The savory scent of bread coming from the door of the bakery

told the boy that Leander was removing loaves from the big brick oven that took up all of the back half of his shop. As for the smith, he was obviously hard at work, asthe smithy ran g with the blows of hammer on anvil, there was a scent of hot metal and steam on the breeze, and smoke coming from the smokehole in theroof. Leander wouldn‘t pay any attentionto Darian ashepassed, buttherewas a chancethat the smith might.

The smithy was a three-sided shed, the forge in themiddle, the anvil toward the front. There was a fat old gray plowhorse waiting patiently for his feet to be attended to, tied to the post outsidethe smithy, and its owner, a man called Backet, watched as the smith hammered out a new shoe for it. Blacksmith Jakem, a huge, balding man with an incongruous paunch beneath his leather apron, paused in his work to watch Darian pass by, his eyes narrowed. Darian ignored him, as he usually ignored the adults of the villagewhen hethought hecould get away with it. Jakem didn‘t think much of Darian, butthat was hardly out of theordinary. Darian didn‘t think much of Jakem either. Ashe made the return trip with his three small logs, the smith hawked and spat into the fire.

Ain‘t nobody worksashardas alazy un,he said loudly to thefarmer sittingon a stump beside the forge.
That‘stheplaintruth,Old Man Backet agreed, takingoff hishat to scratch hishead.Lazy un will work twice‘shard asanybody else, tryin‘to avoid working at all. He cast a sly look at Darian as he replied, to see if his words had struck a nerve.
Darian continuedto ignorethem;so long astheadults didn‘t address him directly, there was a certain amount of immunity that being only thirteen gavehim. He‘d learned sometimeago that a retort would only earn him trouble with his Master. Not that Wizard Justyn had ever laid a hand on him but thereproachful lectures on howmuch heowedthevillagersof Errold‘s Grove and how little he repaid their care were worse than a beating.
Nobody everasked me whatI wanted, notonce. Nobodygavemea choice. IfId had a choice, I wouldntbeherenow-and no one would havehad to thinkabout “taking careofme.”Id have offered to work just enough to geta tentand some supplies, and Id havebeen offto tryonmyown. Now Im stuckhere enduring uselessblathering froma senileMasterand carrying firewood likea dog in harness.
He made three more such trips - ignoring the adults at the forge each t ime, although it certainly it did not escapehisnoticethatthe forceandfrequency of thesmith‘s blows increased each timehe passed. If Jakem wanted to wear out his arm trying to impress upon Darian what so-called industrious laborlooked and sounded like, it wasn‘t goingto bother Darian any.
Besides, if hetold the smith why he was making such a production out of the simple task of fetching wood, he‘d only get anothertongue-lashing, and maybe a cuff on the side of the head into the bargain. The smith had a notoriously heavy hand with his own offspring, and if provoked he might well use it on Darian.
As Darian put his scant armload of wood down at the end of the third trip, the voice of doom emerged from the interior of the cottage.
Darian, leavethat for nowand get in here. It‘stime for your lesson.
It was actually a fairly pleasant, masculine voice, a bit tired-sounding and querulous, but not too irritated or scolding. Nevertheless, if Darian had been a dog, he would have dropped his head and ears andtuckedhistaildown. Butthe firewood  heprotested, knowingthat theprotest would do him no good, but making it anyway.
The wood can wait;I can‘t. Come in now, Darian.
Darian drew his brows together in a sullen scowl, but obeyed the summons, leaving the sunshine and the fresh air for the closed-in gloom of the cottage. He tried to leave the door open to admit a little breeze, but Justyn frowned and motioned to him to shut it behind him.
He waited with resignation for his eyes to adjust to the dimness. The only light in the cottage came from a trio of very small windows in three of the four walls; even though the shutters stood wide open,they stilldidn‘t admit much light. Wizard Justyn waitedfor him at oneendofthe scarred and battered table taking up most of the right side of the room, which served as kitchen, dining room, workroom, and study, all in one. At the rear of the room was a set of rungs hammered into the stone of the wall that served as a ladder to the loft where Darian and his Master slept. Most of the rest of the wallspace was taken up with shelves, badly-made bookcases that leaned perilously toward each other, like drunksproppingoneanother up, and severalappallingpicturesof famousmages. Darian‘sfather, who‘d dabbled in painting, hadonce saidthat agood engravingor print was worth twenty bad paintings, and Darian could certainly see why. They made his eyes hurt just to look at them, but unfortunately, there was no way that he could avoid looking at them.
Most prominent was the best of the lot, a heroic portrait of a person not even aterrible painter could ruin entirely. His noble features and intelligent eyes made up to a small extent for the stiff daubs of his costume. Shown seated at a table from about the waist up, the great Wizard Kyllian, a Fireflower Mage, looked every inch the powerful sorcerer, right down to his familiar, a sleek and smug-looking striped creature at his elbowthat might have been a cat, or might not have been. It was difficult to tell if Grimkin was something other than an ordinary feline, or if the painter had taken the same liberties with cat anatomy that he had with human. Arranged on either side of this portrait were the pictures of Herald-Mage Elspeth, Darkwind Hawkbrother, Quenten of White Winds and the powerful Adept Firesong, all of whom Wizard Justyn had allegedly seen and spoken with before he arrivedhereto serve Errold‘s Grove. Darian was morethan a little dubious about that claim. For one thing, how could a broken-down fake like old Justyn have ever gotten near enough to the legendary Elspeth and Darkwind to have seen them at close range, much less spoken to them? And if he had, how could he ever have thought that the horrible daubs on his wall in any way resembled them? They hardly even resembled portraits of human beings! The picture of Elspeth showed her atop her Companion, in an unreasonably heroic pose, both hands upraised with what were supposed to be bolts of lightning coming from her hands. Butthelightning boltslookedmore likesickly pale-green snakes, the Companion looked like a lumpy cow, the face of the Herald-Mage like a blob of dough with two currants stuck in for eyes and a slash of orange carrot for a mouth. She apparently had twisted legs, no neck, and enormous, pillowlikebreasts.TheHerald‘s uniform andher Companion weren‘t even white, they werea disgustingmuddy-yellowsort of color, asif thepainter hadn‘t been ableto afford apurewhitepigment. Or maybehe‘d used acheap varnish that had yellowed as it aged. Darkwind at least looked human, but the bird on his shoulder had more in common with a fat chicken ready for the pot than any hawk that Darian had ever seen. The rest of the portraits were pretty much on the same level of skill - or lack of it - the firebird posing with the Adept was so ineptly done that most of the villagers thought it was supposed to represent a goose and had wondered aloud out of Justyn‘shearing why amage wouldhave such asilly familiar. As for Firesong‘smask - the Adept was never seen without one it looked like achild‘s drawingof a sunflower, and if everyone didn‘t already knowthat it was a mask, a reasonable person could havethought the painting was of some fabulous monster.
It was painfully obvious that no woman had ever touched this cottage since the day Justyn moved in. Darian had gotten used to it over the last six months, but there was no doubt that it was a worsethantypicalaged bachelor‘s study. Litteringthe leaning and badly-made bookcases were an assortment of cheap and flashy magical implements, afewtatteredold books, a lot of unrecognizable but definitely deadanimalswhich wereallegedlypreserved in some way, several spider webs, a couple of cracked mugs, the upper half of the skull of some largish animal, an apple core, and agreat dealof dust. Darian hadtriedto cleantheplaceup when he‘d first been sent here, out of pure selfinterest, but beingtold sharplyto leavethings aloneon numerousoccasions, he‘d lost interest in cleaning up anything but his own little corner around his pallet in the loft.
Sitting right in front of Wizard Kyllian‘sportrait on thetop of atipsy-looking bookcase was a beat-up and scruffy old black tomcat currently engaged in cleaning his hind leg, wh ich stuck stiffly straight up intothe air asthecat‘stonguerasped at thethin fur.This was Justyn‘sfamiliar, or so he claimed. It certainly matched its Master, for a less-graceful cat Darian had never seen. It seemed to sharethevillagers‘ contempt for its Master and his apprentice, ignoring both of them with a disdain more in keeping with the pampered pet of a princess than of a patchy-furred mongrel of indeterminate age, with a broken tail and chewed-up ears.
Carefully placed in a rack on the wall was a rather plain looking, partially split walking stick with a bit of crystalembedded in thetop which Justyn said washiswizard‘s staff.That, along with four chairs (none matching) and thethick, warped oak table with a book under one leg keeping it straight, comprised all of the furnishings of the room.
Thetable was covered with jars and bottles, theremainsof last night‘sdinner in stacked-up plates that had been shoved out of the way, bits of scribbled-on paper, burned-out ends of candles, and one empty wine bottle. Darian glanced with guilt at the stack of dirty dishes; he was supposed to have cleaned them up this morning, but he had been in such a hurry to get up and out before Justyn thought of giving him a lesson that he had neglected that duty entirely. Nowhe‘dhaveto scrub them with sand to get all the driedon gravy offthem, and he‘dhaveto do so beforethey could eat or they wouldn‘t have anythingto eat tonight‘s dinner on.At least he‘drememberedto taketheturnip pasties over tothebaker in timeforthemto go into theoven. It wouldn‘thave been thefirsttimehe‘d forgotten andthey‘dhadto make do with bread, rawturnips, onions, and sometimesa little cheese.
But themess evidently didn‘t bother Justyn at all; when Darian had first been apprenticed to him, theplacehad lookedmuch the same. Theday he‘dmovedhisthings in, Darian had been strictly forbidden to touch anything on any of the bookshelves without specific permission, which frankly led Darian to believe that oldJustyn wasn‘t certain what was on those shelves himself. It hadoccurredto him that Justyn was afraid that if Darian cleaned and organized things, the boy would ruin the wizard‘s best excuse for not gettingmagics done immediately when people askedhim for them. Hunting for this or that ingredient or piece of apparatus was a good excuse for stalling, and as Darian knew from his own experience, if you stalled long enough, people sometimes forgot their requests.
Sit, Justyn ordered. Darian slumped into a seat across from Justyn, taking the chair that wobbled the least. There was a plate with an apple on it right in front of his chair, and sitting where he could watch both the apple and Darian was Justyn. With a resigned sigh, Darian stared at the apple while Justyn stared just as intently at Darian.
He looks like a real rag-bag today, Darian thought critically, looking down at the wrinkled, winter-stored apple. He looks as if birds were nesting in his beard. Is this pan of his act, or is he getting even more senile? Justyn was about the most ill-kempt male in the village, his only wealth that of his untidy beard. He had three or four shabby and patched robes, all pretty much alike, with badly-made, lopsided, Esoteric Symbols sewn on them by Justyn himself. If you looked closely, you could see little rusty spots where Justyn had stabbed his thumb with the needle and bled on bis work. He kept them clean, Darian had to give the old man that much credit, although he was always spilling things on them that made stains that never would come out, rendering the garments into a mosaic of blotches of various faint colors. It was difficult to tell how old the mage was; his hair and beard were gray rather than white, with a few streaks of darker color in them, and his bro wnish eyes, very sad and tired, were sunken so deeply beneath his shaggy eyebrows that it was difficult to see the wrinkles at the corners. He could have been any age from forty to ninety, and since no one in the village knew anything of his history beforehecameto Errold‘sGrove in thecompany of aHeraldon circuit, his trueage was anyone‘s guess.
Well? Justyn said, showing abit of impatience. Areyou goingto just sit there wastingtime, or areyou goingto actually do something?
With another reluctant sigh, Darian stopped merely staring at the apple and began concentrating.
He narrowed his focus untilthe apple filled his vision and his mind, simultaneously relaxing and tensing. He concentrated on the apple being above the plate, as if an invisible hand held it there. As he concentrated, the apple began to wobble a little. The movement was so slight that it could have been caused by someone bumping the table itself, except that neither he nor Justyn had moved.
After a long moment of tension, he felt something inside himself relax.
Slowly, agonizingly, the apple rose, still wobbling, but now doing so in midair. It hovered about the width of his finger above the plate surface. Sweat broke out all over his forehead in beads, and he felt the pinch of a headache starting just between his eyes. And behind the concentration, he seethed with annoyance and impatience. This was a stupid waste of time; he knew it, and Justyn knew it, but Justyn was never going to admit it, because that would be admitting that he had been wrong about Darian, and Justyn would die before he admitted that. What on earth good would floating an apple about do? Would it bring in more crops? Chase away sickness? Bring prosperity back to the village?
Theanswer, clearly, wasnoto all three questions.
Behind Justyn, the cat finished his grooming and began coughing, making gagging and strangling sounds. Darian struggled to maintain his concentration, but the wretched creature‘snoisewas more than he could ignore.
The apple wobbled anddipped, asDarian‘s controlover it began to unravel.Thecat hacked again, more violently than before, until Darian was certain it was going to cough up a lung this time and not just another wad of hair.
It wastoo much distraction, andhelostthespellcompletely.Thecat spit up amassive, moist hairballwith asoundthatmade Darian‘sstomach turn, just astheapplethumped down on theplate.
Darian swore furiously under his breath at the cat, the apple, and a fate that conspired to make a mess even of things he despised. The cat sniffed, coughed once more, jumped down, and limped over to the fireplace where it curled up on the ash-strewn hearth.
Darian gave the cat a look that should have set its fur on fire if there had been any justice in the universe, and glowered atthe apple. If he‘dhadhalfthepower Justyn sworehehad, theappleshould have explodedfrom the strength ofthat glare. Thefact that it didn‘t only provedto himthat his Master was a fraud and was trying to make him into another fraud. What is the use of this? he asked himself angrily.Whats thepoint? Ifa stupid catcan breaka spell, howis anyone supposed to get anything donebymagic? Its stupid, thatsallit is, its justaspointlessas everything else in this village!
Try again, Justyn ordered him, with akindof weary disgust that angered Darian even further. What right did thatold fakehaveto be disgusted with him?It wasn‘t his fault that he had no magic! And as far as that was concerned, Justyn had no room to find fault with Darian on that score!
How long has it been since hedid anything with realmagic? I bethecouldnthavekeptthat apple in the air any longer than I did!
Anger and frustration rose to the boiling point, and instead of doing as he was told, he swept his arm across thetable in front of him, knocking apple, plate, and anything else in the path of that angry sweep offthetableandontothe floor with acrash.Theplate didn‘t shatter, sinceit was madeof pewter, but it made a lot of noise and acquired yet another dent. As Justyn opened his mouth to scold, Darian shoved his chair away from the table, sitting there with his arms folded over his chest, glowering, silently daring Justyn to do his worst.
Justyn visibly pushed down hisown temper. Darian, I want youtotry again,the wizard repeated, with mounting impatience. And sinceyou won‘t do it properly, youcan pick that apple up off the floor and put it back on the table with your mind - yes, and the plate as well! A bit more hard work willteach youto controlyour temper. Amage can‘t ever losehistemper, or 
Why?Darian snarled defiantly, interruptingthe lectureon self-control that he had heard a hundredtimesalready. Why should I usemy mindto float fruit around?There‘sno reason to! It‘s faster and easier to grab it like any normalperson would!And just to provehispoint, he bent down and seized appleand plateand banged both down on thewooden tabletop.There! Nowthat‘s what a person with plain common sense does! You don‘t haveto muck around with thesestupidtricksto get things done!
Now, of course, was the moment when Justyn would launch into a lecture on how in magic one must practice on small things before one could expect to succeed in the larger, howhe was being immature and childish, and howvery ungrateful he was. Next would followhow it was criminal that he refused to obey, that he had such a wonderful gift and was apprenticed to a wizard who would teach him skills, and didn‘t appreciatehis easy circumstances when insteadhecould have been bound out to a farmer or the blacksmith
Darian knewit allby heart and could have recited it in hissleep. And it wouldn‘t makeany difference if he protested that he didn‘t wantto bea wizard, that hehadn‘t asked for this so-called wonderful gift, andthat he didn‘t see what was so wonderful about it. Justyn would ignorehis protests, just as everyone else had, and did, and always would. For some reason that he did not fathom, every other person in thevillage was astonishedthat hedidn‘t appreciate being farmed out to the old fake.
But just at that point, there were sounds of thumping and a grunt of pain outside. Harris and Vere Neshem, a pair of the local farmers, staggered in through the door with Kyle Osterham the woodcutter supported between them, his leg wrapped in rags stained with fresh, red blood. Darian jumped immediately out of his chair and moved aside for them, shoving the chair in their direction.
He was chopping up astump andhis footing slipped, Vere said, asthey lowered Kyle down intothe seat Darian had just vacated. Bit of amess. Goodthing we werecloseby.
Since Justyn servedErrold‘sGrove in thecapacity of aHealer far moreoftenthan that of a wizard, Darian had seen men who wereworsewounded stagger in through thedoor, but Kyle‘s leg was a bit of a mess. Surface cut, he noted critically. Ax blade probably hit the shin bone and skinned along the top of it. Thatd peelbacka lotof skin, butitllhealquicklyas soon as itsstitched, and it wont leavemuch ofa scar. Lucky ifhedidntbreakthe shin, though. It would bleed a lot, and hurt a great deal, but it was hardly life-threatening. He edged out of the way a little more and got nearer the door.
Justyn rummaged through the shelves behind him, grabbing rags, herbs, a needle and fine silk thread, a mortar and pestle.
Darian, boilsome water,heordered, his back to theroom ashehuntedfor somethinghe needed.
But now Darian was in no mood to comply. This little incident only confirmed what he had been thinking. Thepeopleof Errold‘sGrove didn‘t need some fool who could suspend apples inthe air, they needed a Healer, sometimes a Finder, sometimes a Weather-watcher, but not a wizard, and they never hadneeded awizard in allthetimeDarian had been here. Most especially, they didn‘t need him. It would make more sense for one of the girls to learn everything Justyn could teach about herbs and simples, distilling and potions, setting bones and stitching skin. So Darian just stood there, ignoring Justyn‘sorder, radiatingrebellion and waiting fortheir reaction.
Oneof thefarmers glanced at him with censurewritten clearly on hisface. Justyn,hesaid in an overly loud voice, isthereany help youneed?
Justyn, who had been muttering to himself as he mixed herbs in the mortar, got flustered and distracted at the interruption. He had to dump the lot of what he was grinding out into the tiny fire, and start again. The fire flared up with a roar and a shower of multicolored sparks, and both farmers exclaimedin startled surprise, taking everyone‘sattention off Darian.
That was all he needed. For once, Darian was not going to stand around and wait for people to give him stupid orders. Taking advantage of the distraction, the boy edged around behind Vere and made good his escape, sliding quickly out of the door before anyone noticed he was gone.
Thatll showhim! Thatllshowallof them thatImnotgoing to be treated likeI haveno mind of myown! Im nota slave, and I neveragreed to anyof thethings they„vedone to me! Theydontgive me the regard they„d givea rooster; whyshould I stayand be insulted and made to do thingsI hate?
He didn‘t want to becaught,though, so hemoved around to the back of the cottage, plastering himself against the wall and ducking under the windows until he reached the side that faced the forest. He was just underneath the open window when he heard Justyn say in an exasperated tone of voice from which allpatiencehadvanished, Willyouplease boil that water, Darian? Now, not two weeks from now 
But Darian was out of reach of further orders, and as he paused to listen to find out if either of the farmers was inclined to volunteer to go look for him, evidently Justyn looked around and sawthat for himself, for there was a muffled curse.
Useless brat,thefirst farmer muttered. We shouldhaveprenticedhim asa woodcutter to you, Kyle.
Vere gavea snort.He‘d be just asuselessthere. Lazy is what he is. You oughta beat him now and again, Justyn. You‘retoo soft on him.Them parentsof his spoiledhim, andyou ain‘t helping by bein‘ soft on him.There was aclatter of metalas someoneputthekettleon thehook over thefire.
Vere‘s brother secondedthat opinion. Them two was uselessto us anddangerous,Justyn. It‘s in his blood, an‘ yououghtabeat it out of him, elsehe‘ll bring somethin‘ out ofthe woodsthat noneof us‘ll like.Darian, lurking right beneath the window, heard every word too clearly to mistake any of it, and his stomach seized up inside of him as both fists clenched in an unconscious echo of the knots in his gut.
They were at it again. In front of him, or behind his back, they never let up, not for a minute! He felt his anger boiling up again, felt his face getting hot and his eyes starting to burn with themisery of loss he had vowed never, ever to show. He wanted to storm right back inside and confront both of thosemiserable old beasts, but what good would it possiblydo?They‘donly say to his face what they‘d just saidto Justyn.
With a strangled sob, he wrenched himself around and ran off - not into the village, but into the woods beyond, where the villagers were too cowardly - unlike his Mum and Dad - to go.
His feetknewthepath, so hedidn‘t needto be ableto seeto find his way to oneof hismany hiding places. That was just as well, since unshed tears of anger and grief kept him from seeing very clearly. Darian wasn‘t old enough to remember atime whenthingshad been other than hard here at Errold‘s Grove, but untillast year, hehad been happy enough. Hehadn‘t spent much time in the village itself, and although hehadn‘thad any playmates, hehadn‘t feltthe needof them. Solitary by nature, he enjoyed the mostly-silent companionship of his parents.
Errold‘s Grove lay on thevery far western edge of Valdemar;nominally it was part of Valdemar, but the people here seldom saw a Herald more than once a year, and of late it had been longer than that between visits. Notthat aHerald would do Darian any good, but theHeralds‘ absencemadethe villagersfeelneglectedandforgotten, andthat madethem even harder on anyonewho didn‘t conform.
And Darian would never conform. He hated the village, he hated the people who saw no farther than the edges of their fields and wanted nothing more. He wanted more; he was stifling for want of freedom, and felt asif hewere starvingon a diet of confinement andmediocrity. He‘d been out there where these villagers feared, and he remembered it far more vividly than anything that had happened to him inthis dull littlehuddle of huts. Oncehe‘dtraveledthe deep Forest he wasneverthe same again, andhedidn‘t want to bepart ofthisinsular flock of humanity.
He ran like a hare through the field of corn behind the cottage, bare callused feet making little noise on the soft, cultivated earth. Nobody stopped him; the tall green corn hid him from view, and if they heard his running feet, they probably thought it was one of their own children coming back from an errand. A moment later, Darian burst into the shadows of the Forest at the edge of the fields and slowed once he was in the shelter of the undergrowth. He took a moment to orient himself, then twisted his way through the brush and sought refuge in his favorite tree, one of the enormous Forest giants that ringed the village and kept it in shade for most of the day. He climbed as swiftly as a squirrel or atree-hare and as surely; even blinded by tears he had no trouble finding his hiding place where the great trunk split in two, forming a cup that a boy could easily curl up in and still have room for a few possessions. Beneath him lay the village, a cluster of about fifty buildings on the forested side of a bridged ford on the River Londell right on the edge of the Pelagiris Forest.
It went on forever in three directions, climbing hills, plunging into valleys, and crowning the huge bluff that rose above the river downstream of the village, with only the Londell halting its march toward the heart of Valdemar. The hard-won fields carved out of the forest weretended and fertilized with the greatest and tenderest of care, for it took terrible effort to gain a foot of clear ground from the trees, and there was always the chance (so it was said) that the Forest would decide to take revenge for trees that were cut down rather than falling down naturally. The Forest had always been a fairly uncanny place according to the old granthers and grammers of the village, but since the start of the mage-storms it had gotten very much stranger and far more dangerous.
A Herald had come - the first he had seen - three months after his unwanted apprenticeship to Justyn had been decided for him. The Herald had been light -skinned, with a long blond braid of hair, and looked all the paler because of the white outfit and matching riding coat. With him, of course, had been his Companion, a white horse that was morethan a horse it was more like adreamer‘s ideal of everything a horse could be, with lambent blue eyes, a long mane and hide that stayed impossibly clean, and silvery hooves. The Herald had explained that the strange things that were happening werecalledmage-storms,andthey were caused by themagicofthe world being disturbed a very long time ago. They had been told that the greatest mages of the world had united under Valdemaran leadership, and were working to prevent any major catastrophes. The Herald had answered the few questions posed by the villagers, looking to the white horse and then back. Darian had wondered at the time if he was the only one of the group, Justyn included, who felt likethe white horse and the Herald were communicating with each other through then -looks and subtle gestures. The Herald would have gone on, but several of the older folk of the village hauled him away to explain more, out of Darian‘searshot. Sincethat took Justyn away as well, he wasperfectly happy with that, and went off then to spendtime alone in thisvery placeof refuge. By thetimehe‘d emerged, theHerald andhis Companion had gone, andtherehadn‘t been onethrough here since.
Accordingto Justyn,the fact that Errold‘s Grovewas relatively near LakeEvendim meant that they got the worst of the mage-storms. Huge circles of land and the creatures in them either changed completely or warped and twisted out of all recognition. Monsters appeared, things worse than the worst nightmare or legend, and unfortunately there were no friendly Hawkbrothers nearby to chase away or kill them - not that the peopleof Errold‘s Groveparticularly trusted the Hawkbrothers. At one time these people had made a good living out of going into the Pelagiris Forest and collecting some of the strange plants and fungi that grewthere for use as dye-stuffs, and that business had occasionally brought them into conflict with the Hawkbrothers. Traders had come far out of their way for those dyes, and that had encouraged some peopleto go in deeper, in search of any other things that traders might find valuable. Of course, the deeper in they went, and the more they looked for ancient treasures instead of mosses and fungi, the more likely it was that they would wander into Hawkbrother lands and be warned off, often at the point of a drawn weapon. Once or twice, outsiders had come hunting treasure as well - and their bound bodies would later be found neatly arranged on the Forest edge, without a single copper piece or trinket missing, awaiting discovery and burial. Each such discovery would discourage deeper incursions for a few months, but there were always greedy outsiders ready to dare the Hawkbrothers for the sake of treasures, and their fates were a warning to the dyetradersto stick to their business and leavewhatevertreasure was out therealone.
Nevertheless,therewas enough andmorethan enough of legitimatequarrytotemptthepeople of Errold‘s Groveout into thePelagiris untilthings started getting out of hand.Thevillagehad been quite prosperous, with visits from Heralds twice and three times a year, a fine wooden bridge over the Londell built by the order of the Crown, and even a pair of Valdemaran Guards stationed to watch the bridge and keep the peace on the road. There were stilltwo sturdily built guardposts here, one on either sideofthe bridge, to provethat Errold‘s Grovehad once been considered an important border town.
But war had come, war with Hardorn, and the Guards had been taken away to serve elsewhere, neverto return. Nowtheonly waythat thepeopleof Errold‘s Grove could keep the road open was to run their own volunteer patrols over it. Then things had somehow gotten mixed up with magic as well, and so far asthepeopleof Errold‘s Grovewere concerned, order andtheir old way of lifehad all but disappeared.
First had come the physical storms, worse than anyone had ever seen before, that washed out the road in places, flooded the villagetwice, and buried it in yards of snow for most of the last several winters. Then had comethe mage-storms to batter them all along with the physical storms, and all anyonefrom Valdemar could do after theHerald‘s initialwarning wasto send amessenger with a map that showed what places were going to change, and when. That was no great help, when all the places were out in the wild Forest and no one could get out there to chase large animals away from the danger zone. So the animals became monsters, or maybe the monsters were brought in by the magic;no one was really certain. Theonly thingthat everyone in Errold‘s Grovecould agree on was that now it was far too dangerous to leave the village and its fields. You never knew if or when you might disturb something that was canny enough to follow you back home. People stopped going into the Forest, and the dye-traders stopped coming, since there was no longer anything here to trade for, or even worth the peril to investigate.
Cowards! Darian thought, angrily scrubbing the tears from his eyes with his knuckles. Other people keptgoing in! Otherpeople weren „t so scared of their shadows that they gave up!
People like his parents, for instance. . . .
Darian‘sparentshad been trappers, ashadmany generationsof his ancestorson either side. But when it becametoo dangerousto actually live in theForest,they had made Errold‘s Grovethe base of their operation, carefully workingaterritory with cautious respect for theHawkbrothers‘ claimsand the new strangeness that the mage-storms brought with them. Some of the creatures that arrived on the wings of the mage-storms had handsome pelts of unusual colors, and traders would pay a lot for them. Other changes had occurred in the normal species of the Pelagiris that had made improvements in color or texture of the furs of animals native to the Forest, and for these, too, traders would come. Then, although they were not as expert asthe villagers had been, they would look for the dye-fungi when time permitted, thus bringing back a bit of the prosperity that had left on the storm -winds.
They were careful! Darian silently told the village. They knew how to be careful! They would never, ever have let anything follow them here, no matter what you think! They always made certain to use traps that any truly intelligent species would spot, just to keep their consciences clean, but even with that caution they had brought in some incredible prizes. Darian had often gone with them, for during the winter they would both be out together for weeks at a time. He loved the Forest, and even at its most dangerous, he had never been as terrified of it as the villagers were now. It was right to be cautious around the Forest, but it was stupid to be afraid of it after all, it wasn‘t the Forest that was so dangerous, it was the things living in it, and as long as you were careful, there was nothing to worry about! Any fool could see that!
And how could anyone let fear blind him to so much of wonder and beauty?
“Dari, listen,”hismother would whisper, and he would cockhis head to listen for thenew sound that had caught her attention perhaps the liquid trill of a new bird (or was it a tervardi?) or the bell-like tone of a hammer-jay. Whatever it was, once he caught it, he would look to her, and see the pleasure shining in her eyes as she listened, too. Then she would tell him what it was they had just heard, and spin him tales of the little lives of the creatures of the forest, tales far more wonderful than anything in those dusty books the villagers thought so important.
“Dari, look,”his fatherwould say, pointing to something wonderful a soaring hawk, the sunset light glowing red and orange on a towering cloud, a doe with a fawn only minutes old. And then his father would show him how to follow the hawk and watch it stooping to a kill, what the fiery sunset portended in the way of weather, and how to find the fa wn when she hid in the grasses to doze while hermother wentoff to drinkorgraze. He would stand an excited witness to thehawksvictory, sit in quiet contentment until the last red rays of the sunset faded into blue dusk, or creep up to whisper to the fearless fawn, being careful not to touch it lest itsmother scent him and reject it, even though his hands itched to stroke its soft pelt.
He still lovedthe Forest, lovedthe green silences,the hugetrees, the soundsof it. He couldn‘t get anyone else in the village to see what drew him there; when hetried, they looked at him with suspicion and even a little fear, just as they had looked at his parents.
But he could have borne even that, if he still had them. Dad Mum whydidntyou comeback? Why did you leave me alone? Why did you let the Forest take you away from me?
The pain returned, greater for having been bottled away beneath his anger and rebellion. His eyes flooded with tears, his throat knotted, and he pounded his hand against the bark of th e tree until his knuckles were raw and scraped. Loneliness filled him untilthere was no room for anything else, except for anger atthe insular villagers who hadn‘t even botheredto mount asearch party when his parentsdidn‘t return. It didn‘t matter to these fools that the exotic furs his Mum and Dad brought back had been the only thing that kept traders coming to the village! Oh, no - becausethey went out into the Forest, everyone was just certain that something would followthem back into the village, somethingtoo big andmonstrousto get ridof!Therehadn‘t been aparticleof evidencethat something likethat hadany chanceof happening, but it didn‘t matter;hisMum and Dadhad been watched like criminals every timethey came back from a trapping run. Andthey‘dfelt it;howcould they not have? So they would go back out more and more often, spending less and less time in the village. And maybe that was taking on too much risk in themiddle of the mage-storms. Maybe that was why, after an agony of waiting, heknewthat they wouldn‘t comehomethistime.
They‘d left him behind becausethere was goingto beanother mage-storm coming, and Justyn and someof theothers had persuadedthem not to risk hissafety along with their own. He‘d protested, but they‘d slipped off duringthenight, leavinghim with theinnkeeper asthey usually did. By the time he woke up the next morning, they were gone, and the wind and snow had obliterated theirtrail. He‘dtriedto follow, but had been forcedtoturn back.
He waited and waited, going out every day to watch for them, sure each dawn that he would see them coming in laden with their prizes.
But thistimehehad watched in vain, for they didn‘t return.
Darian was left to thevillageto carefor, and it hadn‘t taken them long to figure out howto disposeof him.Within a day or two of being certain that Darian‘sparentswerenever returning, the village elders had quickly apprenticed him to Justyn. Justyn had long been after his parents to bind Darian over to him as an apprentice; Justyn had told them that he had the Mage-Gift, and that it had to be trained or it would be dangerous. Mum and Dad only laughed at him and told him he was a silly old fool if he thought a boy could be dangerous to anything or anybody. But the villagers had been only too ready to believe in the danger, and only too happy to get him disposed of - and more than oncethere‘d been intimationsthat disposedof isexactly what he‘d be if they detected any connection between him and these weird times. They told him then, and they continued to tell him frequently, that he should be grateful to them for seeing to his care, and for persuading his parents to leave him behind on that last trapping run. They never stopped telling him how grateful he should be, in fact. There was even a hint behind it allthat it was a good thing that his parents had been lost because now he, Darian, would no longer find his own life at risk in the Forest.
Thetears welled up again.
Needlessto say, hewasn‘t grateful.
I helped them! They said I did! When they set the traps, I was the one up in a tree, watching and listening for danger when they needed an extra set of hands, I was right there, and when they were tired, I was the one who was still fresh enough to tend to dinner or build the fire up. Maybe that hadn‘t been true back when hewas just a littleboy, but it had beenthepast coupleof years, andthere was no denying it. They‘d been ableto concentrateon the work at hand insteadof havingto keep one eye on the work and one watching for peril or approaching weather.
And - maybe that was why they hadn‘t comeback.
That was the stuff his nightmares had been made of for the last year. He kept thinking of times when he‘d been therewhen they‘dneeded him - when they needed a third set of hands on the rope in a blizzard, when he‘d spotted large carnivores stalkingthecamp even when he‘d been up atreeand had seen the signs of a bad storm coming up without warning. Had a pack of some magic-twisted horrors ambushed them, attacking them until finally their defenses were all gone? Had a terrible storm overwhelmed them? Had it been simply accident, the falling branch, the hidden crevice, the slip in the dark that left one or both of them crippled and helpless?Was thatwhy they didn‘t return? Becausethey‘d countedon his eyesand earsto warn them, hisextrahandson aknifeor abowto help fight off danger, and hehadn‘t been there?He‘dnever been bad with aknife, and he was even good with a short bow . . . could it have made the crucial difference?
Or was it something else? Had they been caught by bandits, eager to steal their precious furs? Had there been an avalanche, or had one or both of them fallen through the ice while crossing a river? Horror of horrors - had they been caught in a Change-Circle and Changed themselves? Were they out there even now, rooted to the spot as half-human trees, or wandering in some shape not even he would recognize?
He couldn‘t shakethe conviction that if hehad been along,they would have all come back to the village as usual. Somehow, some way, his mere presence would have made the difference. He knew better than to try andtellthisto anyoneinthevillage;he‘dtriedoncetotell Justyn, andtheold wizard had told him that he was overreacting, that whatever had happened to his parents had nothing to do with him. After that, he had kept his guilt and fears to himself.
But he couldn‘t help butthink that if hehad been along, hisparents would havehadthat extra set of hands and eyes that would have kept them safe, and brought them through whatever it was that took them away.
And that was what made it all the more horrible.
Here, in this refuge, away fromthe fools who didn‘t understand, he could let his realfeelingsout.
Why? he cried in silent anguish, faceturned up to the canopy of leaves, both fists grinding against the back of the tree,Whydid you leaveme? Whydidntyou takeme with you? Whydid you leave me all alone?
His body shook with silent sobs, and tears coursed down his cheeks, soaking his patched and muchmended shirt. It wastoo small in thearmsfor him by far, but he wouldn‘t let anyonetake it from him, nor would he give up the leather vest that went with it. She had made him the shirt, and he had cut and stitched the vest, and thosetwo articles of clothing were all he had left of them.
Why? he asked them again and again, untilthere was nothing left in the world but sorrow and guilt. Why did you leave me alone?
Finally, his body trembling in every fiber, he collapsed in on himself, curled into a ball, and sobbed, muffling the sound of his weeping in his arms and the bark of the tree. He wept himself dry and exhausted, untilthere was no more strength left, even for a single tear.
Before Justyn was satisfiedthat Kyle‘s injury was no longer life-threatening and was as clean as one herbalist could make it, there was a great deal of blood spilled on the stone floor of his cottage. It wasn‘t the worst woundhe‘dever tended, but it was definitely oneof themessiest. Justyn had finally stopped the bleeding with a compression bandage, and after liberally dosing the woodcutter with brandy and poppy-powder, began stitching the wound closed with a curved needle and fine silk thread. Kyle was a stolid enough fellow, and in a way it was a blessing for both of them that he was so very insensitive (and, one might as well say it, stupid),for he didn‘t seemto mindthe ugly wound and the stitching half so much asthetwo farmers who‘d brought him in. Vereand Harris grimaced every time Justyn put a stitch in, and Harris, who had no livestock at all but a few chickens, relying onthe loan of his brother‘soxento plowhisown land, was looking abit green about the face. Kyle had just sat quietly, as if he were a good plowhorse waiting for a new shoe to be fitted. The brandy and poppy concoction made the muscles of his face go slack and relaxed, and he leaned back in his chair, propped up by Harris and Vere, blinking sleepily whenever the needle went in.
I could be generous, Justyn thought. Icould supposethathes in shockbynow. Except thathe hasntanyofthe symptomsofbeing in shock.
Such stolidity in the face of serious injury had been the hallmark of some of the mercenary soldiers Justyn had tended in the past - the long gone past, so removed from what he was nowthat it might bethe past of another person altogether. There were just some men who never felt much of anything, either physical or emotional. In general, they got along well with their fellows, and they made good enough soldiers, for although they never displayed the least bit of incentive, they always obeyed orders without question. And, if a woman didn‘tmind beingtheoneto makeall the decisions, they made perfectly amiable husbands and fathers. Certainly their phlegmatictemperament never led to beatings or other abuse. There had been times when he envied them that easy acceptance.
Virtually everyone in the village was cast from the samemold, and it wasn‘t at alldifficulttotell that Vere and Harriswere Kyle‘s cousins. Allthreeofthem werehusky, light-haired, and browneyed, but Harris and Vere were darker than Kyle, and Kyle had features that were much more square. Justyn sometimes wondered if the reason he and Darian had never quite been accepted by the villagers was a simple matter of appearance; both he and Darian were thin and dark, in stark contrast to everyone else here. Or at least, he amended mentally, I was dark untilmy hair started going gray.
He‘s gonnabe laid up acoupleof days, Vere said with irritation, histhick brows furrowing in a decided frown. That means we‘llhaveto spare someone from field workto keep an eyeon him so he doesn‘t get into trouble, all juiced up withthat poppy likehe is. Can‘t you magichim, stead of sewing him up likeusual?
I‘vetoldyou before, Justyn saidpatiently, manipulatingtheneedlethrough aparticularly tough patch of skin,I‘m not a Healer, I‘m an herbalist, a surgeon, and a bone-setter. I would have to use a complicated magic spellto do what you suggest. Whatever it was that the Heralds did to end the mage-storms fractured all the magic, and left it scattered around like a broken mirror. It takes a long time togather up enough shards of powerto work any spells. It‘svery tiring, it exhaustsallthemagic that‘snearby, andthen, if you really needed some magic to be done in the case of an emergency, I wouldn‘t be ableto do it. What if something bad cameout ofthePelagiris, andI couldn‘t protectthe village?You wouldn‘t want that now, would you?
The farmers both shook their square, shaggy heads, but they also looked skeptical and cynical, and Justyn could hardly blamethem. After all, no onein Errold‘s Grove had ever seen him work anything involving powerful magic, and they had no reason to think he could do anything much.
And they have every reason to doubt me, he admitted to himself, taking another careful, tiny stitch and tying it off.
Besides,headded as an afterthought, you can getWidowClayto watch him. She can‘t work in the fields with that bad leg, but she can still weave baskets, or knit and sew while she keeps an eye on him, and who knows? She might decidethat he‘s better than no husband at all, and then your wives won‘t haveto cook and clean for him anymore.
Justyn felt abit badly that he wastalkingabout Kyleas if the woodcutter wasn‘t there, but in a sensehe wasn‘t. He‘d had enough poppy and brandythat he wouldn‘t recallathingthat had been said oncethe drugs woreoff. Andeven if hedid, Justyn rather doubtedthat he‘dtakeoffense at any of it, since worse things had been said in his presencethat he never took offense to. He felt no guilt whatsoever about setting up Widow Clay, however. The good Widowhad been setting her cap at him of late, and that was something he wanted to put an end to by whatever means it took! The last thing heneeded was somemeddling woman coming in here andsettinghis lifeto rights. Both the farmersbrightenedat that idea, andthey didn‘t say anythingmoreabout magic. Instead, they exchanged the kind of cryptic sentences that almost amount to a code among close kin, and Justyn gathered that their conversation had something to do with a plan to persuade theWidow Clay that her best interests lay in dragging Kyle over the broom. Justyn rather doubted that Kyle would mind if she did; he‘dprobably accept beingmarried withthe good - natured calm with which he accepted having his leg stitched up. As for the Widow—well, she'd have nothing to complain about in Kyle. Justyn continued to sewthe two sticky flaps of skin together with tiny, delicate stitches a woman would have envied, but the meticulous work was not engrossing enough to keep his mind off t he past.
The irony was, at one time he would have been able to mend a minor wound like this with magic, using magic to bind the layers of skin and muscle together, leaving the leg as sound as it had been before the injury. Granted, his grasp of power had been minor compared to the great mages like Kyllian and Quenten, but at least it had worked reliably—and what was more, it probably would be working better after the end of the Stormsthan the magics of those who were his superiors in power. He had never used ley-line magic, much less node-magic, and the loss of the ley-lines would have made little difference to him. He had been a hedge-wizard, one of those who practiced earth-magics, with a littletouch of mind-magicthrown in for good measure, and he had served in the ranks of Wolfstone's Pack, a mercenary company recruited by Herald-Captain Kerowyn to aid Valdemar and Rethwellan in the war against Hardorn. His had been aminor role in that Company; using the earth magics to tell him wherethe enemy was and how many his numbers were, helping patch up the wounded, helping concealtheir own men from the enemy and his mages. Kerowyn's Skybolts had worked with the Pack in the past, and they were one of the fewmercenary Companies she felt sure enough of to trust in the treacherous times when Ancar still ruled Hardorn. All that had been explained very carefully to the members of the Pack, as had the risks and possible rewards, and the Company had voted unanimously to take the contract. After all, it was Captain Kero they were talking about; no one who took the same side as she did ever found himself working for people he would really rather have lost down a mine shaft. And usually no one found himself facing a situation where foreign commanders were spending mere lives like base cointhat they couldn‘t get rid of fast enough.
Justyn hadonly just hired on withthePack, and he‘d been eagerto see somerealfighting, to get right into the thick of things. But he had quickly discovered that the place of a junior m age, a mere hedge-wizard, was going to be back with the support-troops.
And foolish me, that wasn„tenough excitement forme.
He tried to volunteer every timethey called for able bodies, but wisely the commanders kept passing him right over - until they cameto the desperaterunning battles with Ancar‘stroopsthat decimated their own ranks and left the commanders little choice but to put a weapon into the hands of anyonethey could spare and hope for the best.
Justyn had been a good enough archer, but his mind-magic had given him an edge; as long as he got his arrow going in the right direction, he could think it into a target. With a bow in his hands, he impressed even the archery-sergeant, and so they kept him with the archers, and he got more than his shareof excitement. Untilhisfirst battle, he‘dthoughtthat actually killing someone might be a very difficult thing, for he would be thinking his arrow into the body of a man, not a strawtarget - but then when he saw what he faced, there was actually agrim and melancholy sort of pleasurein it. Hell- puppets were whattheother fighters called Ancar‘s line-troopers; conscripted and controlled entirely by blood-magic, Ancar had depleted the countryside for fighters, and had raised the power for the spells that controlled them by killing their families in cold blood. When Justyn killed one of the troopers, it was actually a longed-for release for the poor clod.
Spell-bound and spell-ridden, for most of them that arrow came as a blessing, taking them out of Ancarshandsand on to a placewhere their loved ones wereprobablyalready waiting. Ancar had not used his people well, to say the least, and Justyn found himself sending prayers along with each arrow.
And as for the officers and mages commanding Ancar‘stroops- there was great pleasure in ridding the world of creatures so depraved and sadistic. And perhaps it was wrong for him to feel pleasurein killingeven somethingas vile asAncar‘stoadies, but hecouldn‘t find it in his heartto regret taking even one of them out of the world.
And fighting was a great deal more exciting than grinding herbs, lighting campfires, and sealing wounds. When the archery-sergeant had halfheartedly given him the option to go back with his old group, he‘d declined.
And, to be honest, I felt more like a man. I was actually doing something, and other men, other fighters, praised me for it. How could I go back to work among the cooks and the mule-drivers?
It wasn‘t only themembersof thePack who praisedhim, either. He‘d met several of the Valdemarans in theform of someofthe Guard whenthey‘dpicked up a stray squad or two alongthe way, the sadly-depleted remnants of a Valdemaran Company that had been holding the line before the Pack came to reinforce them. They thought he was a fine soldier, and said as much as they all shared exhaustion and the rare hot meal between engagements.
Heady stuff for a young fool, I suppose.
Wonder wheretheboy went?Harris said idly, interrupting Justyn‘sthoughts. Justyn hadthe needleclamped between histeeth and couldn‘t answer, butthe question was rhetorical, fortheman answered it himself. Probably ran off into thewoods. My boy‘s seen him runningofftherebefore. I‘m tellingyou, Justyn, there‘s bad bloodthere, and you‘d better do something about it before he gets morethan himself into trouble.
Justyn really wasn‘t payingmuch attention, lost in hisown thoughtsashe was, andthehalf- conscious grunt he made in reply seemed to satisfy the man. At the moment, he really didn‘t wantto think about young Darian, though he was getting an increasing number of complaints from the villagersthat he wasn‘t keepingthe boy under firm enough discipline.
No, his thoughts were in the past, at the moment, drawn there by thetask of stit ching up something that could have been a wound made on purpose, rather than accidentally.
If I hadntbeen so young, I would have realized from the stateoftheValdemaran Guard and the fact that my own commanders were willing to risk a mage in the front lines that something was very, very wrong.
What had gone wrong was that they were all trapped on the wrong side of the enemy lines, and only the fact that they had good commanders had gotten them as far as they had gone. He had learned later that the Guard and Pack Captains had agreed on a last-ditch dash for the Border at a weak spot in the enemy lines, hoping for a combination of surprise and overconfidence to bring them all through. And the ploy worked
Except that for it to work, someone had to hold the rearguard, and the most logical group was the mixed archery squad guarded by a handful of swordsmen.
They fought their way back toward Valdemar, st ep by step, untilthe only barrier between them and safety was a river with a single wooden bridge. One man with a bow could hold the enemy off long enough for everyone else to get across - and by that time, he was considered the best shot in the group.
So, of course, likea young hero who hasntquitegrasped hisownmortality, I volunteered.
That was when he learned the great and vitaltruth about being a bowman.
When you run out of arrows, you can do virtually nothing against a man with an ax.
He had fended off attacks for a few moments with his bow and knife, getting some painful wounds in the process, and the last thing that he remembered was watching the flat of the ax blade descending in strangely-slowed time toward his head.
He had awakened in the infirmary tent; after hisheroicefforts, therehadn‘t been aman in the decimated ranks willing to allow him to go down without trying to rescue him.
But his skull had been cracked like a boiled egg, and it had only been good fortune and the fact that Wizard Kyllian was present at that very sitethat had kept him alive to thank his rescuers.
Kyllian himself was too old by then to take part in any battle-magics; he had confined himself to instructing the new Herald-Mages and to helping the Healers when their own ranks grew too thin, for Fireflower was a School that produced mages who were equally versed in Healing and mage-craft. Reputed to be a great friend of Quenten, the head of theWhite Winds School at Bolthaven, Justyn really didn‘t know whyhe‘d chosento come North when the Valdemarans sent out a call for mages through Quenten. Perhaps it was some need of his own that drewhim there, or some urgeto leave the sheltered confinesof theFireflower Retreat. Hedidn‘t confidehis reasonsto Justyn, who was just one among many of the patientsthat he pulled back from the soon -to-be-dead and into the land of the living.
It was obvious almost at oncethat Justyn was not going to be any good for fighting anymore; the blow to his head addled his vision enough that he would never be ableto accurately sight an arrow again, and he simply had never had the strength of body to be a swordsman. Nor did he ride well enough for the cavalry.
But there was still magic themagiche‘d despised, that suddenly seemed desirable again.
But like a lover scorned, his magic had left him as well. Much of what he had learned, the blow to his head had driven from his memory; he had trouble Seeing mage-energies with any reliability, and the mind-magic he had was so seriously weakened he could no longer lift anything larger than a needle for morethan a few moments.
He had gone in a single instant from hero to a discard. And what would he do with himself outside of the mercenary Companies? He had no skills, no abilities, outside of those of the magic that was now mostly gone from him.
When he was able to get out of bed and care for himself, the Healers turned him loose to complete his recovery on his own, and the Pack gave him his mustering-out pay and their good wishes. The Captain expressed hisregret, but pointedout that thePack couldn‘t affordanyone who couldn‘t pullhisown weight, and suggestedthat hemight findemployment somewhere asa server in an inn, or the like.
A server in an inn? Was that what he had come to? All at once,hecouldn‘t bear theideathat he must give up all of his once-promising future to become a menial, a drudge, another cipher with no future and no prospects. That was when he had approached the great wizard, hat in hand, like a beggar, and asked for advice.
He must have fairly radiated despair, for Kyllian had sent away the people he was talking with and took him into his own tent, sitting him down and presenting him with a cup of very strong brandy.
I supposeyouthinkthat your life isover,the great wizard had said, wearily but kindly.And from your perspective, that‘s an appropriate response. I understand youput on a fairly braveshowout there.
Hehad flushed. Brave, but stupid, I suppose 
Dependson who you would ask. Your fellowmages, now, theywould say it was stupid, I‘m sure, risking your Gifts as well as your life in physical combat - but the fellows you shot covering fire for would havea different opinion.
He had been rather surprised that Kyllian remembered the details of how he had been injured, but there were more surprises in store for him.
So, you‘re braveenoughto die,Kyllian had continued, watching him closely.But areyou brave enough to live? Are you brave enough to learn skills that will get you little gratitude, brave enough to practicethem among peoplewho will probably despiseyou and certainly won‘t believe your tales of battle heroics, but who nevertheless will needwhat you can do?
What could he answer, except to nod mutely, having no notion of what that nod was going to get him into?
It wasn‘t magicthat saved you, boy,theoldman hadtold him bluntly. It was simpler stuff than even you are used to practicing. Bonesetting and flesh-stitching, herbs and body-knowledge, patience and persistence and your own damned refusal to be a proper hero and die gloriously. Do you knowwhat‘shappened, out there in thehinterlandsof Valdemar?
He had shaken his head; obviously, how could he haveknown?Hewasn‘t anativeoftheplace
Well, I do, becausetheHealerscomeand wail on my shoulder about it at least threetimesa day. There are noHealersout therenow;they‘veall been pulled easttotakecareof this mess. Even the old wisewomen, the herbalists, and the beast -Healers have turned up here; anyonethat could travel has come here, where the need is greatest. That leaves vast stretches of territory without anyonethat a sick or injured farmer can turn to - not an earth-witch, not a hedge-wizard, not even a horse-leech. No one. And people are going to die of stupid things like coughs and festered wounds unless peoplelikeyoutakethetimeto acquirea fewmoreskillsand go outthereto helpthem. Kyllian hadeyed Justyn shrewdly. And I can virtually guarantee it will be athankless proposition but you‘llbe doing a worldof good, even if no one is willingto acknowledge it.
Why do you care what happensto thepeopleof Valdemar?he‘d asked, with equal bluntness. And why should I?
The old wizard had smiled, an unexpectedly sweet smilethat charmed Justyn in spite of himself. I care - because Idontcare what land people own allegianceto, so long asthey are good people. And I suppose I care because of the philosophies that made me choose the School I chose. Ask any Healer of whatever nation how he feels about Healing a man from another land, even onethat is his enemy, and he will look at you as if you were demented for even asking such a foolish question. Healers don‘t see nations, boy.They seeneed, andthey act onthat need.That iswhy I care.
And why should I? Justyn hadrepeated.
Why did youvolunteer to holdthebridge? was allKyllian asked, and although Justyn hadnot quite understood the question then, discovering the answer had formed a large part of his life from then on.
But at the time, given his utter lack of anything else hethought he could do, and the fact that the great Wizard Kyllian certainly seemed to want him to volunteer, that was what he had done.
First, though, he needed to begin a new course of learning. He had apprenticed himself to the leeches and herbalists and wisewomen on the battlefield, absorbing their knowledge of matters other than the injuriesof combat when they weren‘t allup to their elbows in blood and body parts. He acquired herbals and other books, brought what was left of his magic up as far as he could, and when Herald-Mage Elspeth and Hawkbrother Darkwind and Adept Firesong did whatever it was they did to end the war with Hardorn, he was there for the celebration of victory, then volunteered his services to both the Healers and the Heralds. After all, he was at least a little bit of a mage, as well as a certified bonesetter and herb-Healer, and Selenay of Valdemar had decreed that Valdemar still needed mages. Kyllian had been right, and he was assured that Valdemar could use anyone with either of those skills, and desperately. Ancar‘smages hadn‘t confinedtheir attentionsto killing Valdemaran fighters; they‘dmadeapoint of going after thetents of the Healers and other noncombatants, contrary to every accepted convention of war. Far too many of the Healers and leeches who had volunteered were not going back to their homes again.
Those services that he offered were gratefully accepted, and the Healers sent him off so far into theWestthat he wasn‘t certain hewas still on a map of Valdemar. A whole string of folk went, most with about as much magical power as he had, and some with less; a Healer and a Herald went with them and found them towns and villages who wanted and would support folk like himself. The last villageon the list was Errold‘sGrove, and it was herethat hefoundthat Kyllian had been onlytoo right. People had already died needlessly of stupid things - a compound fracture gone septic, a winter epidemic of fever, an infected foot. The people here needed him and wanted him, and the Healer and Herald went back to Haven to look for more volunteers to fill allthose empty places where Healers had once been.
At first, things hadn‘t been as bad for thevillageandthevillagersasthey werenow. Traders still came for the dye-stuffs, and there was both ready money and the goods coming in from outside to spend it on. The villagers had seemed impressed by the little magics he could still do, such as finding lost objects and predicting the weather. He had been given a house and was promised that, like the woodcutter, all his needs would be taken care of. A strange and scruffy black cat had simply appeared one day, a cat that seemed unnaturally intelligent, and hetook it as a good omen, that he had gotten himself a proper familiar, that his magic might once again amount to more than the wherewithal for a few parlor games. He set about looking for an apprentice to teach, and saw the light of magery dancing in the eyes of a young child, the son of a pair of fur trappers. He had every confidence that he would one day be able to persuade them that their boy should have a chance at a better life than they held, and get young Darian for his apprentice. It seemed as if the gods were finally smiling on him again, and he rechanneled his ambitions into another path. If he could not become a great mage, he couldtrain one. It didn‘t takehavingtheTalent andtheGift to be abletotrain the person who did. He transmuted his dream into the dream of being the mentor to a powerful magician, and thought that he would be content.
But then the mage-storms began, and his fortune dropped along with that of his village. When one or two monstrous creatures invaded the village, no one wanted to go out into the Pelagiris Forest and encounter more and sincethe dye fungus wouldn‘t growoutsideof theForest,that pretty much put an end to the dye-trade. With no money and no traders coming in, the villagers were forced to become self-sufficient, but self-sufficiency had its cost, in time and hard physical labor. The narrower the lives of his villagers became, the less they in their turn were willing to forgive. The demands on him became greater, and he was less able to meet them. And when Darian was orphaned and was bound over to him by the villagers, the boy reacted in exactly the opposite way he would have expected - not with gratitude, but with rebellion.
That, perhaps, was the worst blow of all. The boy had seemed so tractable with his parents, so bright, and so eager to learn! And with bis parents gone and no relatives to teach him a trade or care for him, he should have been relieved and grateful to get so gentle a master as Justyn, who never beat him, never starved him into submission, never really scolded him.
Justyn was nearly finished with Kyle‘swound, but theproblem presentedto him in theshapeof young Darian was nowhere near as easy to deal with.
Was it only that the villagers were right, thatthe boy had bad blood in him? Just howbad was thebad blood, if there was such athing?Was it insurmountable?Should he give up, and seethe boy bound over to the smith, perhaps? Certainly the smith would not tolerate the kind of behavior Darian exhibited now - but how could that be fair to the boy?
Was it only that he was strong-willed and stubborn, unwilling to turn bis hand to another path when the one he had been on was closed to him? It would have been natural enough for him to plan to followin hisfather‘sfootsteps, and certainly there was every indication that heknewquite abit about the business of trapping and preparing furs. If it was only that, could his stubborn nature be overcome? Surely Justyn could make him see reason - the Forest was too dangerous to go out in, now, and the deaths of his parents should prove that to him, if only he could be made to acknowledge the fact. If two people with all the experience and caution they displayed could not survive there, Darian had no chance of prospering, and surely Justyn could make him understand that.
Was itthat he wanted everythingto cometo him easily, as magic cameto thosein children‘s tales?Washetoo lazy to work?If that wasthe case, Justyn wasn‘t surehowto remedy it, but that didn‘t seem right either.Theboy wasn‘t actually lazy, but look at what he‘d saidthis afternoon:that he didn‘t seeany reason to expend a great deal of effort to do something much more easily accomplished with normal means, and perhaps it was onlythat Justyn hadn‘t been ableto persuade him that those little exercises were the only way of building his ability and control to handle anything bigger.
Or wastheresomething else goingon, somethingthat Justyn didn‘t understand?
Justyn could see some things for himself theboy didn‘t like beingmadeto feelthat he was somehowdifferentfrom theother children in thevillage. Perhaps part of his rebellion stemmed from the fact that his Talent for mage-craft was bound to set him farther apart from the others. Given the contempt with which the villagers regarded Justyn, he had no reason to assume that they would give him any more respect if and when he became a mage.
And he certainly reacted badly whenever his parents were mentioned. But his parents, too, had been different,very much so.Theentirevillagehad regardedthem with suspicion and displeasure, anticipating that they would only bring more trouble than they were worth with them eventually. Some of the villagers had not been entirely certainthat Dalian‘s parents werehuman - the argument was that no human would ever choose to go out into thePelagiris when there were safer ways of makinga livelihood. A fallacious argument, to be sure, but thefolk of Errold‘s Grove seemedto have a grasp on logic that was tenuous at best. But was it that Darian wished his parents had been the same as everyoneelse, and he was angrythat they had been different andhadmadehim different by default? Or was there some other thought going through his mind?
Bad blood, and reckless, that‘swhat‘sinthat boy,heheard with half an ear, and it occurredto him at that moment that every timeanyone in thevillageso much asmentioned Darian‘sparents and lineage, it was with scorn and derision, and the certainty that no good would ever comeofthose folks.Why, no wonder theboy reacted poorly! Every timethe boy heardhimself talked about, it was with the almost gleeful certainty that he would cometo a bad end, or be nothing but trouble. As reluctant to show any sort of feeling as he was, still, for Darian those words must seem like a blowto the face, or more to the point, to the heart.
Still, one would think that the boy would feel a little proper gratitude. Justyn certainly treated him well. He was hardly overworked, he had plenty of free timeto himself, enough to eat, proper clothingto wear, anda comfortableplaceto sleep. Therewas no telling if he‘dhad allthosethings with his parents, but one would think he would be happy enough to have them now.
Wait, think a moment. It is one thing to feel gratitude, it is another to be told over and over again just how grateful you shouldbe, ifonlyyou werent too much ofa littlebeast to beappreciative. Hes onlya child, hecantunderstand howmuch ofa burden one extra mouth to feed is for the people here. Folks with children would have to work that much harder to feed and clothe him, folks whose children are grown expect to be taken care of in their old age, not become caregivers all over again. Hehadn„tany skillsthat wereuseful to the folkhere when he wasleft in theirhands, so hewouldn„t contribute anything toward his own keep formonths or even years but how is a child supposed to understand that?
And as a child, his parents were naturally everything to him, the center of his young life, and being told they were idiots and deserved to get swallowed up by the Forest must surely make his blood boil. He must feel impelled to defend them, and yet since he was a mere child, he would be considered impudent and disrespectful if he did.
Another thing that Justyn had noticed about him was that he had a great deal of difficulty in remaining still and concentrating. Perhaps that was characteristic of all young boys, but most were apprenticed to learn skills that involved physical work, not mental work. The boy had a restless heart, and the truth of it was that he was not well-suited to insular village life. He spent most of his free time, not withthethreeor four boysnear hisown age, but out in theforbidden Forest;whether he was just wandering, or exploring with apurpose, Justyn didn‘t know, but hecertainly seemedto prefer the company of trees and birds to that of his own kind.
And therearecertainly times when I dontblamehim for that.
Justyn tied off the last of the stitches, and clipped all the threads as short as possible so that they wouldn‘t catch on something.
Now,hesaidto allthreeof them, although hewasn‘t at allsanguine about Kyle understanding anythinghe said.I knowyou‘ve heard this before, but it bears repeating. You allthree know what happens when a wound goes septic. Kyle, please realize that if you let this wound sour, at best, you would be very, very sick and I would haveto open up the wound, drain it, and cut or burn out part of the infectedtissue. It wouldhurt avery great deal, both whileI was doing it and afterward. You‘d have much worsethan a scar, then, and it would take much longer to heal. You would probably end up with a limp, or even lame, if the infection grewbad enough.
Kyle grunted and nodded his agreement, his brown hair flopping into his vacant brown eyes. He brushed it away, and although the motion was slow, his hand was steady, arguing for a certain level of sobriety.
Nowpay attentionto what I haveto tellyou,he insisted. You may haveheardthis before when someoneelse washurt, but chances areyou don‘t remember it as well asyouthink you do. Harris, Vere, I am countingon youto remind Kyleof allof this.
All right,Vereagreed, looking as if he felt put upon. Harris just grunted, clearly bored with the entire procedure. Knowing the two as he did, Justyn figured that Vere would try to remember to tell Kyle everything, and Harris would do so only if he happened to think about it.
Justyn sighed, and hopedthey wouldn‘t forget what he was about to tellthem. At least Kyle‘s constitution was so robust that hecould take alittleneglect. Once aday, the wound isto be washed in wine, just as I did before I closed it, and allowed to dry in theair.
Right,Kyle saidvaguely. Wash, and air-dry. Don‘t bandageit wet.
After it is dry, then put the salve I have given you on it, and put a dressing made of fresh, clean cloth over it.Dontput bear fat, or goose grease, or tallow, or riv er-weed, or anything else your granny usedto usefor wounds on it. Do you understandthat?Forget your granny‘s andyour mother‘sfamousremedies, and stick with mine. Trust meon this, andremember thatthe Heralds sent meherefor just this reason. I‘ve seen and treated more wounds like this than there are people in the village.
Just the salveyou givehim, Vere sighed, as Kylenodded so earnestly that Justyn had some hopethat theman might actually remember what he‘d been told.
At night, beforeyou sleep, I want you to changethe dressing again, with fresh, clean cloth. I want you to have allthe rags you use for dressings washed thoroughly in boiling water and hung to dry in the sun.Sometimeshewondered ifthey‘d pay more attention to thethings he told them to do if he gave them some kind of nonsense to say over each task, as a kind of charm against sickness. But no, he was afraid that if he did that, they would trust in the charm and forget cleanliness. How could he get them to believe that there were invisible animals living in filth that made wounds fester, if he couldn‘t get them to believein him?
Thank the godsthey at least knewthe signs of infection and gangrene. Examinethe wound carefully each time you change the dressing, and if you see anything wrong, cometo me at once. Remember, you‘re watching for infection, andthat can include swelling, red streaks coming up or down your leg from thewound, skinthat‘shot to touch and more sorethan it should be. Understand?
Cometo youat once, Kylerepeated, noddingvigorously.
All right,Justyn said, and sagged back in his chair. He waved ahand at them.You can all go now.
Harrisand Vere each took oneof Kyle‘sarms andheavedhim up out of hischair. Justyn didn‘t offer him any more of the precious poppypowder; he didn‘t havemuch, andhehadto save it. There was no telling whenthenext trader would come withthepowder he‘d orderedalmost ayear ago.
Rather surprisingly, Kyle made it erect without too much in the way of a wobble,and hedidn‘t lean on thetwo farmers nearly as much as Justyn thought he would.
The benefits of an iron constitution and a head like a granite boulder, I suppose, hethought dispassionately.Hed probablyhavehealed up all rightwithoutme, which is likely what Vere and Harris will be telling each other.
He leaned back in his chair and massaged the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Kyllian had been right;this was a place where he - and a successor - were desperately needed, and it was a place where they would get little thanks and no credit for what they did. People honored the spectacular, not the everyday. Raise a dead man and bring him back to life, and they would hold you in awe. Keep him from dying in the first place with a little simple hygiene, and they ignored you.
What was he to do? He had known what he was up against when he arrived here. And what was he goingto do about a successor? If hecouldn‘t somehowbringtheboy around, he wouldhaveto find someone willing to do the hard work without any magic at all.
Women tended-to be more community minded than men, and in this village at least, they were used to taking on the more objectionable of community tasks; perhaps he ought to check among the girls and see if any of them were willing to learn all he could teach them about bonesetting and herbs andthe like. It wouldn‘t hurt Darian to seethat hehad arivalfor Justyn‘stutelage.That might get him interested again when nothing else seemed to.
The only problem with that idea was that it would be hard for a young girlto get a mature man to listen and obey her when it came to following instructions. That had been the idea behind sending a man here in the first place.
If only I could regain my magic! If I could impress the people here, that might bring Darian around. If he just thought that he had a chance of being seen with respect as long as he learned what I have to teach, that might change his attitude.
He turned his attention to the apple sitting on the plate on the end of the table where Harris had put it. He narrowed his focus and concentrated on the fruit, as he had so often and so easily, feeling a nowfamiliar headachearcacrosshishead, just behind his right eyebrow. Hedidn‘t rememberthe blow that had felled him, but he fancied that it had felt a lot like that stabbing pain.
He willed the apple to rise. This time! Surely this time!
It wobbled a bit on the plate, but did not move.
Still, he continued to concentrate on it, and it rocked faster and faster but still refused to rise, untilthepain behind hisright eye was enoughto blindhim. With a sigh, he droppedtheapple with his mind, and it stopped moving.
I‘m an oldfraud,hesaidout loud. I‘m afailureand an oldfraud, my apprenticehatesme and hates magic, and you  he looked at hiscat, which was licking itself again probably aren‘t even a familiar. And even if you are, you‘rea failure,too. If awhirlwind cameout of the sky and swallowed us all up, no one would ever notice, that‘showunimportant we are. What do youthink ofthat?
The cat went on cleaning itself, sticking a scraggly, flea-gnawed leg straight up in the air, arse toward Justyn. He chuckled bitterly, forthecat‘s silenceseemedtheonly fitting comment.
Two
Even grief asprofoundas Darian‘scouldnot be sustainedfor too long, and after lying exhausted in his hiding place for a time, other feelings began to penetrate his sorrow, all of them maddeningly persistent, and utterly ordinary. It was irritating - which in itself was irritating - to have stupid things like a nosethat was sore and stuffed up from crying, and an ant crawling up his leg inside his breeches, intrude on something asprofound ashis grief. But that didn‘t stop them from intruding. His armsand legs felt cramped, hishands stung wherehe‘dpoundedthem againstthebark and scraped them, and one hip hurt, jammed as it was against the hard bark of thetree. Finally he decided it was time to leave. He sat up, his eyes sore and dry, and peered down through the branches to see if there was anyone about to catch him when he climbed down.

There was no one working in the field below, and from the fact that the long shadows of thetrees had crept over thevillage, he‘d been up herea while. He guessed that the women who usually worked in the bean field had probably left their work to go prepare dinner for the men and children. The wind was in the wrong direction for him to catch aromas coming from the village, but it was a good bet that if he could smell anything, it would be the mingled aromas of stews, soups, pies and pasties, same as always.

I wonder why they bother making individual dinners.
Surely it would make more sense just to make one big pot of stew for the whole village, he thought, with a touch of contempt. After all, everyone in the village uses the same half-dozen recipes. I dontthinkanyonehasevertried tomakeanything new sinceIvebeen here.
Perhaps it was that, as difficult as things were, there were still some who were more prosperous than the rest, who could afford a little more meat and spices in their food, and who made sure to enjoy that distinction from everyone else whenever the opportunity presented itself.
As ifby sharing a bitof spicewith everyoneelse theyd lose the chance to lord it over their neighbors, he thought sourly. The halfdozen well-todofamilies weretheones who seemedto go out of their way to complain about his behavior.Asif theydidnt already have the best houses in town, and can even pay somebody else to cook and clean for them!
Still, if it wasmealtime, he‘dprobably better be getting backto Justyn. Therewere stilldishesto scrub, and the pasties to fetch from the baker, or the old wretch would probably forget to eat, and then Darian would get the blame if Justyn got sick. Sometimes he wondered how Justyn had gotten along before he came - but then he realized that the women had taken care of him, the same way they cared for Kyle.So thevillagers had gotten somethingout of apprenticinghim to Justyn;they‘d been ableto stop cleaning up after and cooking for theWizard. No wonder they‘d been in such ahurry to get him bound over!
Illhaveto clean up afterKyle, too, ifI dont want to have to eat dinner in a room that looks like someone had butchered a pig there. Justyn is such a slob! How can he be so concerned with keeping wounds clean, and live the way he does? Wrinkling his lip a little with disgust, he stretched his arms and legs untilthe cramps went away, then climbed slowly down the side of the tree opposite the village. Hedidn‘t want anyoneto catch sight of him if he could help it;he‘d already lost a coupleof hiding places by being careless.
Here on the edge of the fields, wherethere was more sunlight, growth of bushes and vines was especially heavy, giving him cover that allowed him to get into the field without being seen. Already the air was hot and drowsy with midday heat, and hidden insects buzzed and droned on all sides of him. The ground here smelled damp; someone must have opened up the irrigation pipe for this field. He pushed through the dense underbrush until he cameto a field of pole beans, and made his way through the rows of tall, tent-like arrangements of poles covered with climbing bean vines. They made a jagged hedge that was difficult to see through, and extended well over the top of his head. Eventually the field ended, and he reached the outskirts of the village on the northern side. He reentered Errold‘s Grovenearthe firing pit for pottery andthestorage shed wherethefinished pieces were kept. Hedidn‘t seeanyone, although the soundsof dinner being served and eaten were coming from every open window.
It must be later than I thought. He stilldidn‘t feelmuch likehurrying, though;his bout of grief had pretty much killed his appetite, and with a bit of pique, he decided that Justyn could wait. If his Master was hungry, his Master could go fetch his own dinner from the baker, and clean a plate or two himself for a change.
He made his way slowly along the paths between the houses, kicking a round rock through the dust, nursing his grievances. The ordinary sounds of people who liked each other eating together only made him feel more abused and put upon, because he knew what those people must be thinking and saying about him. Vere and Harris had certainly recounted thetale of his defection to their families by now, and their wives had probably shared the story with others as they brought water from the well, or went to fetch dinner from the baker. So noweveryoneknewthat Darian had shown histrue faceagain, andthey would befeelingvery smug indeed. By suppertimetonight, he‘d bethemain topic of evening lectures to the family.
Theyllbe looking attheir children, and telling each other, “Thank thegodshe isntlike Darian!”or “Myboywould neveractlikeDarian.”Huh. Asif they reallyhad any idea halfof what theirprecious children getinto when theyarent watching.
And the very next person he encountered would probably stop him in order to remind him of how ungrateful and unnatural he was. Every time he got into trouble andtrouble seemedto havea wide definition for these people - people would go out of their way to give him their own version of the lecturehe‘d already heard athousandtimesor more - the sermon on how kind Justyn was for taking him in and apprenticing him without an apprenticing fee or any kind of familial relationship. Again. And again.
At least Justyn himself usually left that part out, perhaps because he remembered only too well howhehadpestered Darian‘sparents everytimethey cameinto Errold‘s Grove. Darian could recall at least a dozen times that Justyn had cometo his Mum and Dad, separately or together, to urge on them aplan of apprenticinghim into Justyn‘s service. Therehad been a great dealof fuss madeabout howdangerous it was for someone with Darian‘spotentialto remain untrained in hismagic. Darian remembered his Dad oncetelling his Mum that Justyn was trying to frighten them into giving Darian over to him, andthat sheshouldn‘t lettheoldman alarm her.
If Darian could not get away from whoever had decided to deliver the usual lecture, the haranguer would then go through the litany ofDarian‘smany character flaws and deficiencies, and the only variation was in how much emphasis an individual placed on a particular flaw. This part was actually useful; Darian had noticed over the course of several of these lectures that people tended to stress the flaw that they were most prone to themselves. For instance, the rudest man in the village, Old Man Gulian, tended to harp on how rude Darian was, and Erna Dele, who never spoke or showed a thank you for any favor and always expected morethan she got, would go on at great length on how he didn‘t appreciatewhat he was given. He learned alot by listeningto what peoplethought they saw as deficiencies in him.
Regardless of who was giving the lecture, it always ended with a homily on gratitude, o bedience, andhumility. That is, howhe should daily demonstratehowgratefulhe wasto everyone in Errold‘s Grove by thanking all and sundry on every occasion for their generosity toward him - how he should showthat gratitude by instant obedience to anyt hing anyone wanted of him - and howhe should be properly humble and prove that he knew his place in the scheme of things by groveling before everyone he came across.
How I should be so happy to have been permitted to become a bound-over slave that I should demonstrate that gratitude with humble servitude to anyone over the age of fifteen.
It takesavillageto raisea child,wastheoldproverb, often quotedto Justyn when someone cameto complain about Darian, and it certainly seemed as if everyone in the village had his or her own ideas of the proper way for Darian to behave!
Each time he heard the lecture, he was sorely tempted to kick the orator in the shins. He never did, though, because there was always that doubt that they might all be right and th at he was in the wrong. After all, everyone here seemed to be in agreement on his behavior and worth except he himself, and after all, he was only a boy. What if he was entirely in the wrong? What if he was a bad person? What if he did deserve to be punished - what if Justyn was too tolerant of his behavior and he really deserved to be disciplined?
What if the reason his parents got swallowed up by the Forest was because he was a bad person, and this was howthe gods had chosen to punish them for how heturned out?
That was the possibility that gave him a cold lump in the bottom of his stomach, and made him squirm with distress whenever he thought of it.
And that, of course, just made him want to be loud and wild and try some of the magics that Justyn talked about, just to showthem allthat he was not to be trodden underfoot like a weed and he was not going to take alltheir lectures and disapproval lying down.
Which, of course, always gothim into moretrouble. In fact, it seemed as if ever sincehe‘d arrived in this place, he was in trouble to one degree or another - or thought to be in trouble.
And it wasn‘t fair! Theother boyspulled asmany pranks ashedid, or more - they were just slier about it, andthey didn‘t get caught because no one wastryingto catch them the way everyone seemed to betrying to catch him.
Hellfires! hethought rebelliously.When everyones watching you all the time to catch you doing something wrong, theyregoing to getyou, no matter howhard youre trying to do right!
And meanwhile, just because everyone in the whole town expected Darian to be the one who madetrouble,that meant they weren‘t goingto catchtheir own boys at it, and Darian would get the blame for things they did. It happened all the time, and even when he could provehehadn‘t had anything to do with the mischief, no one ever apologized to him or madethings up to him. They just said that hedeservedto get into troublefor allthethings hedid that hehadn‘t gotten caught at! Now, there was a prime bit of logic!
And just supposethe beans got pecked a bit by birds, or a deer wandered in and ate some of the young corn, thingsthat he couldn‘t possibly have any controlover - why, that was all the fault of his Dad and Mum. It was the Pelagiris-beasts come to take revenge on the village for the terribletrappers who had invaded the Forest. Even the most normal of beast depredations was always blamed on some monster from the Pelagiris thathadfollowed Dalian‘sparents back to Errold‘s Grove.Though what self-respecting monster would pull up carrots and eat them, or trample down a hill of beans, or pick at ripe strawberries - well, that was beyond him. Must have been a monster with a singularly vegetarian appetite.
Funny how they all forget those coats and rugs and bedcoverings they all have that Dad and Mum traded for food and supplies, he thought sourly, looking up from his rock and noting one of those bedcoverings hanging out on a line to air. A soft shade of subtle cream it was, too, with markings and mottlings of a darker shade of pale brown. Quite a handsome fur, thick and warm, and probably a finething to have on the bed in the dead of winter. Darian even remembered what the beast hadlooked like when they‘d caught it - a terribly dangerous beast, it was, completely unable to defend itself, much less attack anyone. It had looked like a huge hassock; with four tiny little legs and a head the size of an apple all stuck on a body easily the size of a fat cow, and certainly much wider. If anything had been born to become a tanned hide, that thing surely had been. It was a wonder it had survived long enough to be trapped in the first place.
Poor Justyn hadn‘t even gotten the benefit of having furstraded to him in return for taking Darian as an apprentice. He didn‘t get anything at all, not even other peoples‘ cast-offs, and he was the one who probably deserved some kind of repayment the most. Widow Clay of the bad leg that kept her from hard physical labor had been appointed to make him bedcoverings, which she knitted from odds and ends of yarn that she unraveled from worn-out sweaters or scrounged from leftovers or other projects. She also made quilts of scraps that no one else wanted because they were stained, or faded and threadbare, or too drab to be desirable, even as a patch for a quilt. Poor Justyn! He always got the tag-ends of everything. He was the last person in the villageto get a share of meat, of clothing, of anything. Whoever‘sturn it wasto supply him always gavehim whatthey didn‘t want. Take now, for instance;there was an abundance of turnips, beans, and peas, so their meals featured either turnips, beans, or peas, depending on howthe donor herself felt about those veget ables. Mostly, they got turnips, and he was not looking forward to the time when the squash ripened.
Now his mood turned to guilt, as it always did at this point, for the worst part of it was that in his heart he knew he was being treated fairly; well-housed and well-fed, and Justyn, though shorttempered and appallingly sloppy, was fundamentally kind.
He kicked his stone back and forth, from his left foot to his right, making slowprogress in the direction of Justyn‘s cottage. Hekept his eyes down on the path and his stone, for it was just possible that if any adult saw him doing this, they would think it was some ridiculous exercisethat Justyn had set him, as it certainly would look too tedious to be a game. Justyn had set him tasks that looked sillier in the past, and the one thing they all had in common was that they weretedious.
Itsnotso bad with Justyn, and I wouldn„tmind somuch ifI was learning something useful. Its just that he keeps insisting that this magic stuff is goodforsomething. Iveheard the stories and Ive seen thebad arton his walls. Hes talked aboutgreatmagesand even oneor two Hawkbrothers, and toldmeabouttheir greatspellsand “weaings.”But so far I havent seen him do anything that couldntbedoneeasierbyplain old ordinary hands. For that matter, a lot of what Justyn did was accomplished by mundanemeans, andold Justyn sure didn‘t get a lot of respect, wealth, or even appreciation.So whywould anyone want to bea wizard in the firstplace? Whats thepointof being a wizard if you get taken for granted and paid only in what no one else wants? If I was learning something like being a fighter, a warrior something that was useful and got respect well, things would be different.
The old man was good at small spells and minor healings; simple magicsthat made life better and safer for the villagers. But nobody really seemed to notice just how much he did for them; they acted as if he was supposed to be at their beck and call for the most minor of trivialities, an d on the whole they treated him very little better than Lilly, the barmaid at the inn. Justyn just accepted that treatment, as if it was what he expected and deserved.
Thatisntdoing eitherofusanygood, if itcomes rightdown to it. Hedoesn„tgetrespect, so I never will either buthealso doesnteverdo anything to makepeople thinkhe was important. And any old wisewoman knows almost asmuch as he does about healing and medicines.
Everything Justyn did or wanted him to do seemed to involve a great deal of stupid, plodding, repetitive work. So what good was magic, when all it did was make for more hard, tedious work? He knewwhy thevillagers didn‘t respect Justyn‘smagic wasn‘t magicsupposedto be spectacular, instantaneous, andtakeone‘s breath away?Wasn‘tthatthe way magichappened in thetales?When thevillagewas buried in snow, shouldn‘t Justyn havebeen ableto clear the snowaway fromthe paths andthe doorswith asnap of his fingers?Shouldn‘t he beableto hold back floodwaters with his will, or make a well by wishing it there?
Shouldn‘t hehavebeen ableto keep peoplesafewhen they went into theForest to makea living? After all,that washowthepeopleof Errold‘s Grove were supposed to make a living shouldn‘t a proper wizard be ableto make sure they could still do it, no matter what thosemage-storms brought? That may have been what earned their scorn whenthemonsterscame, Justyn wasn‘t ableto do things that let the village prosper despite their presence.
If theyd thought that he was going to be able to get rid of any monsters that came in from the Forest, peoplewouldnthavebeen halfashard on Dad and Mum . . . in fact, they might have helped them out a bit that last winter, when running the traplines was so hard.
And if peoplehad been pleasant to him and his parents, if they‘d been ableto prosper on their own, maybehis Dad and Mum wouldn‘t havefelt as if they hadto go out into the Forest asoften or for as long. They might stillhave been here, ifthey hadn‘t felt so unwelcomein Errold‘s Grove.
He shook his head angrily to keep from crying all over again. He had to think hard to be able to get a breath; he felt as if he were in a constriction trap, and the trap kept getting smaller every day. I dontthinkI can bear too much more of this, he thought, but this time the thought had more of a feeling of desperation behind it.Ivegotto getaway; Ivegotto figureouthow I can take careof myself, and get away from here. This place, these people theyre trying to make me just like them, and I dont wantto belikethem! Wanting everything justalikeis whats killing them all, they just dontrealize it.
There had to be more to life than the kind of life the villagers were living - a dull, pedestrian, day-to-day existence. When he wasn‘t being badgered, he was being boredto death.
Every day is exactly like every other day. Only the weather and the seasons change, and even theydontmake thatmuch difference, unless theres something likea flood ora blizzard. Or a monster or something they think is a monster. Or maybe a Herald comes along once a year atmost. Itsalways the samefood, the samegossip, thesame thingsgoing wrong or right. Nobody everdoes anything just for the sake of doing it, and nobody ever dares try anything new.
There were times when hethought that even the appearance of a monster from the Pelagiris Forest would be preferableto the day-in, day-out sameness. It might wake up some of these people, showthem that there were more important things than complaining about one small boy.
No oneevermakes songsor talesaboutpeopleplowing theirbean fields. Whats thepointof living on the edgeofa perilousand magicalplace like theForest if you dontgo looking for adventure in it? Or if not adventure, why not just life? People used to go looking for adventure - or for mosses and other dye-stuffs, anyway - but now they would rather hide in the village and pretend the Forest wasn‘t just beyondtheir carefully cultivatedfields. They‘d rather do without prosperity than take a chance against danger, and Darian could not understand that.
My folks went out looking for adventure; maybe there issomething inmyblood. Onlyit isntbad blood, its just I dontknow. I just know ifI dontdo something different soon, Im going to burst. I dontknowhow thesefolks stand living like this. Maybe theydontburstbecause theyrehollow.
He looked back over his shoulder at the Forest with longing. He always felt more contented when he was in there, and thetemptation to keep going, to keep on looking to see what was beyond the next stand of trees, behind the next patch of undergrowth, was often overwhelming. It always felt as if there was something exciting out there waiting for him, if he just went far enough in.
And maybe Dad and Mum are still alive in there, somewhere. . . .
His belly wrenched. He was thinking that again, as he had for ages, and he still could not let that hope go. Until someone found proof otherwise, he would always be certain thatthey weren‘t dead, that they were trapped or imprisoned somewhere, waiting for someoneto find them. As long as he could believethat, he couldn‘t giveup, and hehad somethingto holdonto inthemiddle of thenight, when he woke up and found himself beneath athick, thatched roof instead of the open sky, or tent canvas, or forest canopy.
That hope faded a little more with each passing day, though. It got harder to believethey were still alive somewhere, when there was never any trace, either of what became of them, or of a force or person that could have imprisoned them.
Maybe when a trader comes, I can get him to take me with him. I could work for him until we get somewhere wheretherearemorepeople, then I could join the Guard. I bet Id be a great fighter in fact, I betId beoneof thebest fighters thereever was! He was easily one of the best bowmen in the village;morethan half thetimehe‘d been apprenticed it was his skillthat put meat in Justyn‘s stew, andnotthegratitudeof the villagers.
Then again, allthe wars weresupposedto beover now, andmaybethey wouldn‘t need fighters. Well, that was all right. I could remind people about the furs and the dyes that used to come from here I could get them to put together an expedition to exploretheForest, thats whatI could do! I know all Dads trapping trails; I could befamous foropening up the Forest!
Or maybe he could just work for the trader until he had enough put by to buy his own supplies and traps. He could go out into the Forest himself, and become as good a trapper as his Dad was. He remembered his Dad saying more than once that he was doing the villagers a favor by trading those furs forkindinstead of cash andthat thetraders never gavebut a fraction of the worth of the fur. If I took my furs to a big city myself, I could get a lot of money for them. I could get rich and Id probably be famous, too.
As for thepeopleof Errold‘s Grove, well, when they sawhowhewas prospering, maybethey would stop cowering in their houses like rabbits in a burrow, and dare the Forest themselves again.
Ihavent seen thatmanymonsters, and mostof them weren„tdangerousif you keptyour wits about you. Iveneverseen any“forest spirits” or“vapordemons”or anything you could even mistakeforsomething like that. Hellfires, I haventeven seen Hawkbrothers, and I know they„re supposed to be out there somewhere so how dangerous could it be now that the mage-storms are over really? Iveprobably spentasmuch time in the Forestasanyonehere, and I just dontthinkthat hiding in yourhouseand pretending that theForest isntthere isgoing to do anyoneanygood.
He looked up slyly for a moment, and realized that he had managed to kick his stone up to the back of the inn or what served asan inn here in thevillage. It really wasn‘t much morethan another cottage with two rooms, one large room full of benches and tables, one a kitchen, and a loft above the kitchen where the owner slept - it was owned by Hanbil Brason, who brewed the beer and dispensed it to the men who gathered here of an evening, and in earlier years besides selling beer and food, he at times hadsold floor space at night to passingtraders. Nowadays, whentherewasn‘t much in theway of coined money in the village, Hanbil sold his brew by tally - you brought in a bushel of barley, a bunch of hops, a dozen eggs, some pork or chicken, and he wouldreckon up howmuch inreal money that represented and put it on a tally-stick for you.
Then you drank and ate until you used up the tally. Hanbil was the only man with whose tallies no one argued, because he was the only source of beer, and his was the only place in the village where men could gather to complain about their wives in relative peace.
He was aided in his endeavors by Lilly, who served beer and meat pasties, cleaned and washed up, and dispensed some other unspecified services that caused thegood wives of Errold‘sGroveto frown and pronounceherno betterthan sheshould be.Whatever that meant. It might havehad something to do with the fact that she wore skirts kilted up above her knee, extremely tight bodices, and blouses that continually fell off one shoulder, showing a great deal more of her than the wives liked. Lilly was no girl; she was older than some of those wives, and really no prettier. The women had no cause to feel any jealousy about her looks. But they did, and they took some pleasure in snubbing her at every opportunity. However, like poor old Kyle, folks said she was not especially bright, so she didn‘t seem to take any noticeof being slighted. Or if shenoticed, she didn‘t care; maybe having the approval of the husbands was worth the snubs of the wives.
Darian had some doubts aboutthat;he didn‘t think it wasthat Lilly was stupidat all. Hethought it wasprobably morethe casethat shewas so resignedto her lot andposition that shejust didn‘t think about it anymore.
The boys said she was also not quite bright enough to count past ten - anything morethan ten was simply a lot - and as every child in the village knew, if there were more than ten pasties or fruit pockets cooling on the windowsill, Lilly would never notice one missing. Once again, Darian had doubts, for he‘d seen hertaking in theplatesof cooled baking with aslight smile when oneor more was missing. He had the feeling that she knew very well that the baked goods were gone, and that she rather enjoyedthefactthat boldchildren were snitchingHanbil‘s goods.
And since Hanbil was notoriously parsimonious when it came to his share of the support for Justyn, Darian always considered it his duty to filch something to eat from the inn when he got the chance.
This was his day of golden opportunity. Lilly must have been out berrying on the old road this morning, for there was a line of fine, golden-brown berry-pockets cooling in pans on the windowsill and just beneath it, sitting on upturned buckets so she could reach them from the window. Juice oozed from them enticingly, and there were at least two dozen of them.
Darian sidled up to the window and took a quick glance around to see if anyone was watching, but the area was deserted, and he could hear Lilly talking to Hanbil up in the loft. He snatched, and ran, juggling the pocket from hand to hand to keep from getting burned, while his mouth watered with anticipation.
A moment later he was safe in a spot he often used for strictly temporary hiding, the hollow behind some juniper bushes underthewindowof what passed for a shop in Errold‘s Grove. Nandy Lutter and her husband used to buy their goods from traders, but with fewer and fewer coming through, they had to go fetch their own goods. They were the only people in the village who ever went up the road to the outside world. Once every three months, Derrel Lutter would hitch up his horse to his wagon and drive off across the bridge with a wagon full of whatever he and Nandy had traded for over the previous threemonths. When he came back, he would havethe things that the village could not make for itself, and he and Nandy would set them up in the shop, and maketrades over the next fewmonths. They brought in things like needles and pins, ribbons and colored th read, sugarloaves, spices, and salt. They weretwo of theErrold‘sGrove elite, andas aresult, Nandy had goneto the effort of planting things around their house that were pretty, but impractical, as a means of displaying their wealth. She had beds of spring bulbs, flowering trees that had no real fruit, rose vines, and evergreen-holly and juniper. The latter were planted against the side of the house, and the hollows against the wall where the branches had died back for lack of sunlight made a good hiding place. That was where Darian went when he‘dfilched apie; better to get under cover, eat it quickly, and disposeofthe evidenceat once.They couldn‘t accuse you for having abluetongue;youcould claim you‘d been berryingyourself.
He wriggled into place just below a window, and proceeded to nibble delicately at his treat so as not to waste a single crumb. For such a poorly regarded woman, Lilly was a remarkably good baker, and her efforts certainly surpassed anything Darian could produce. The pastry was flaky and light, perfectly browned and crunchy, the filling sweet and juicy without being too runny. Hetook a great deal of satisfaction, not only in thefactthat he‘dcheatedHanbilout of something, but out ofthe fact that taking it by sleight -of-hand had been a great deal more efficient than trying to get it by levitation or some other daft method Justyn might have suggested.I dontneed hisstupid magic to get what I need. I can do anything I have to do with my two hands and my wits.
The more he thought about it, the more discontented he became. This was no life for anyone with any courage or ideas! This was no place for anyone who wanted something besides a place to sleep and steady meals and predictability! Errold‘s Grove was dying, or dead, and no one had noticed it but him. And he had to escape before he died, too.
Nandy and another woman weretalking inside, but he didn‘t pay any heedto them untilthetag- endof a sentencecaught hisattention. - that old fraud who calls himself a wizard.
I don‘tknowwhy we giveover anythingto support him,theother woman replied querulously. It‘snot asif hewas likeKyle, and useful.
I‘ve said asmuchto my husband,Nandy replied with an air of triumph. I‘vesaidto himthat there‘snothingthat man could dothat oneof thegirls couldn‘t learn. Take Ida‘s Saffy  she chuckled cruelly,  andthe gods knowthere isn‘t a boy in Errold‘s Grovewho would.
Nandy!her visitor exclaimed in mock shock.Nowhowcouldyou say athing likethat?
Twenty years old andnot married, afacelike ahorse and a body likea washboard?It‘s only plain speaking, Nandy retorted, with obviouspleasure. Nowlook, my man couldtakeher up when he next goes off to the city and leave her at the Healer there. Helltrain her for nothing, we‘ve already asked. In a year she comes back, and we can send that good-for-nothing fraud off to swindle someother village. Saffy could go backto living with her parents, just like before, but then she‘d go from being a burden to a blessing. The rest of us could pay for her services as we need them, not before, andthere won‘t bethat drainon everyone, which ispurely cruel. And nowthere‘s two to feed, him and that useless, feckless, bit of bad blood that he calls an apprentice.
Well, it isn‘t fair,theother agreed. If you‘renever sick, it doesn‘t seem fair to haveto keep giving over food and clothing and all. Of course, he does do Finding, and Weather-watching 
And acarefulperson don‘t needa Finder, and asfor Weather-watching, we got along well enough without it before.Nandy pronouncedthat astheend of theargument.Asfor theboy, well, I don‘t doubtthat if he doesn‘t manageto bringthe Forest down on us all ashisrootlessparentstriedto do, he certainly won‘t amount to anything. Hehasn‘t theintelligenceof Kyleandhe‘s as shiftless as Lilly, andthe sooner we‘rerid of both ofthem, the better off thisvillagewill be.
Nandy and her customer moved away from the window at that point, and Dariancouldn‘t hear anything but the murmur of voices.
He sat where he was, not out of shock, but suddenly struck by a sense of hopelessness so deep he couldn‘t havemoved if his lifehad dependedon it. Nowthey grudged even the scant foodthey provided him - they were going to turn him out to fend for himself as soon as they could get away with it. And they were going to do the same to Justyn, too - but of course, Justyn would have a year or so to tryto find anewplaceto go, becausethey couldn‘t do without him until Saffy was trained. It sounded as if - supposing Nandy had her way - they were going to just throw Darian out as soon as Nandy could get enough peopleto agree with her. And Justyn at least had some skills he could barter for a newplace somewhere. Darian hadnothing except theclothinghe‘d brought with him, the ability to shoot a bow, and whatever he could convince folks he could do.
So what am I supposed to do? Go live off the Forest, with no supplies and no weapons but my bow and few arrows? It was onething to plan to become a great hunter and trapper when he was older, and had built up allthe things he needed to properly live in the wilds - it was quite another to knowthat he was going to be cast out to make shift for himself with nothing whatsoever to help him. No point in asking Justyn for help either - the old wizard would have a hard enough time finding a new place for himself.
Maybe I should just run away now, and get it over with. If I go now, maybe I could steal enough to keep me aliveuntilI get to thenext town. Thats Kelmskeep, I think. Isnt it?
Assuminghecould findthenext town;he‘d never beenthere, and he didn‘t knowhowfar it was, or if he could get there afoot. People said it was downriver, but how far was it? Could he get there on hisown? And if he could, would anyone want him when he gotthere? Assuminghe didn‘t run into something elsefirst, likemaybeHawkbrothers. It usedto bethat you wouldn‘t run intothem unless you trespassed in their territory, but that wasn‘t thecaseanymore, or so their yearly Herald had said. Nowthey could be anywhere in the Forest according to the Herald; they were supposed to be much better at doing the new kinds of magic than anyone else was, and the Herald had been rather vague about just what these bands of roaming Hawkbrothers were supposed to be doing. Nor had he been able to tell the villagers howthe Hawkbrothers would react to any strangers they met in the Forest.
Of course, as long as he stayed on the road, he would probably be all right, but what if he couldn‘t? He‘dhaveto eat and drink, andthat wouldmean going into the Forest to hunt for food and water.
Well, he had warning now. If atrader came by before Nandy got enough people together to agree to throw him out, maybe he could get the man to take him along. Or maybe the Herald would come soon, and he could beg help there andhopefully,the Herald wouldn‘t decidethatthe best help would be to persuadethevillagersto giveDarianonemore chance.That chance would last only as long as ittook for them to get rid of Justyn, andthen he‘d beout on hisear, too.
Now so thoroughly depressed that the filched sweet lay like a leaden lump in his stomach, seeing no future now but a choice between uncertainty and endless drudgery, Darian crawled out of his hiding place and slunk like a beaten dog back to the dubious protection of his Master.
The short distance to the other end of the village seemed shorter than usual - and Justyn was waiting for him outside the cottage when he came into viewof the building.
Darian knewby the set of Justyn‘s chin andthe look in his eyethat it would do him no goodto tell his Master what he had overheard. At best, Justyn would dismiss it all as idle gossip, betray his hiding place to Nandy, and hand him over to her for punishment. At worst, Justyn would assume he was making it all up in an effort to avoid punishment.
In either case, nothing would happen until it was too late for Darian.
Justyn had evidently ponderedDarian‘s punishment for some time, and had come up with something both appropriate and suitably quelling.
It‘sabout timeyou decidedto showyourself,he said, hisfaceset in a fearsome scowl. I used the last of my mycofoetida on Kyle, as you would know, if you had been here, as you ought to have been. I had to clean up his mess, and then clean up the dishes from last night that you were supposed to have attendedto.
Darian just hung his head and looked at his feet, saying nothing. There was nothing much he could say, after all. Justyn was right; he should have been there. If he had been there, Nandy would have less ammunition to use against him. There was little doubt that he had caused all of his misfortunes all by himself.
So, sinceyouhappen to likeroaming around in the Forest so much, you can just go out there and collect enough mycofoetidato fillthisbasket. Justyn droppedthe basket contemptuously at his feet, without waiting for him to reach for it.
Darian winced, and picked the basket up without a word. Mycofoetida was a fungus, a particularly noxious shelf-fungus with a perfectly nauseating aroma when fresh-picked. The aroma faded to nothing within a few candlemarks of being gathered, and when dried and packed in a wound, it was a powerful preventive against infection. But for those few hours, it was best that both fungi and picker stayed away from anyone else. It grew best on livetree trunks where there was a fair amount of indirect light, which meantthat you didn‘t haveto go far into theForest to find it. Only Justyn knew how to dry it, prepare it, and use it properly, so only Justyn ever went after it.
It was not a choice task, to say the least. Justyn knew howto gather it without losing the contents of his stomach, but Darian didn‘t, and he doubted that Justyn was going to impart that information in his current mood.
He was right. Justyn also dropped hisbowand quiver of arrows at his feet. Sinceyou‘regoing to beout there for sometime,the wizard continued, youmight as wellhunt. Bring back something for our dinner tomorrow. If I haveto look at another turnip, I may start breakingplates.
Darian stooped again, gathered up the bow and arrows, and turned, still without saying anything. As he slouched away, hethought he heard Justyn mutter under his breath,“And it would serveyou rightif theHawkbrothers got you.”
That last almost made Darian break into hysterical laughter, it was so incongruous after the thingshe‘d just overheard, for it was athreat that was always being given to naughty children: You‘d better begood, or theHawkbrotherswill get you!Even Darian‘sMum had said it playfully, nowand again, when he‘d been into harmlessmischief. Of allthethingstotellhim now!
As hetrudged openly between the rows of corn, heading for the Forest, he sighed and slung his quiver over his shoulder. People always talked about Hawkbrothers, as if they were all male, and no one had ever said anything about seeing a woman of fheir kind. Was that why mothers said that Hawkbrothers would get a naughty child?Were there no women, and did they kidnap children to replacetheir numbers?
No,that didn‘t make any sense - they were supposed to be allies of Valdemar, and your allies didn‘t go about snatchingtoddlers. Maybethey might ask the Heralds for orphans to adopt;that would be perfectly all right, since the Hawkbrothers were certainly capable of protecting children and caring forthem, but it wouldn‘t make sensefor them to out-and-out kidnap little ones. Not that you could convince anyone here of that. After all, the Hawkbrothers were foreign, and as everyone here knew, you couldn‘ttrust foreigners.
Still, given how no one here wantedhim, maybe it wouldn‘t be so bad if theHawkbrothersdid carry him off. At least it would be an adventure. Maybe they would know something about what had happened to his Mum and Dad - or they would be willing to help him try and find out. After all, they were supposed to know everything there was to know about the Pelagiris, and they actually lived in and off of the Forest itself, never needing any kind of supplies or help from outside. Not even his Mum and Dad had been able to do that. Maybe his best bet would be to try and find Hawkbrothers, instead of trying to avoid them.
But given the way my luck has been running, if I run away and tryto find them, therewontbe any of them for leagues around, he thought dispiritedly while he shuffled toward a copse of trees. Everything I touch fallsapart. Even Justyn would havebeen betteroffifhed never seen me. Hellfires, I bethereallydoesnt wantmearound anymore. Hed probablybegrateful ifI just disappeared.
Hehuntedfor thefungus in arather halfheartedfashion ashetriedto formulateplansthat didn‘t fall apart the moment he considered what opposition to them he might encounter. One thing he knew; even if nobody in thevillage wantedhim around, themomenthetriedto run off, they‘d go after him. It wasn‘t logical, but it wasthe way they didthings. It didn‘t matter iftheoutcomewas what they wanted, whatever happened had to be accomplished under their control.
Takethecaseof Ananda‘srooster, for instance. AnandaPellardhad an old roosterthat wasthe most evilminded, aggressive bird Darian hadever seen. Shecouldn‘t catch it to trim off its spurs, and it would attack anything, even grown people, inflicting some painful punctures on children. Ananda always said that she ought to put it down, but it was obvious she was afraid to try and catch it to kill it. One night something plucked it out of the tree it roosted in - Ananda said she heard it squawk, and in the morning there was only a pile of loose feathers with blood on them. Probably it had been an owl, and you would have thought that everyone would be glad that the nasty old bird had been taken care of.
But no. Nothing would do but that the men sat up for the next several nights to try and kill whatever had come in to getthe rooster. Darian wouldn‘t have been surprised if it hadonly been Ananda who was upset - after all, it was her bird, and even atough old rooster made perfectly good soup but it seemedas if half thevillage was annoyed, and allbecause what hadhappenedhadn‘t been under their control.
So if he ran away, even though none of them wanted him there anymore, they would be angry and upset and sure to send someone after him to catch him and bring him back. So whatever course he took, he had to be somehow certain of being ableto elude pursuit.
None of this made any sense, of course, but nothing was making any sense anymore.
Hehonestly, truly, triedto keep from goingtoo far away, but hecouldn‘t find any of the shelf- fungus growingnear at hand, andhereally hadn‘t expectedto.The last timehe‘d hunted forthe stuff, he‘dhadto climb so far up treetrunksthat Justyn had been alarmed, andheknewthat it wouldn‘t growfarther up than he‘d gone, sincetherewas too much light. So, since it needed a great deal of indirect light, and that meant the edge of the Forest, he finally decided to work his way along the riverbank.
It was a slow process; he hunted tree by tree, looking for fungus at ground level, then peering up along the trunk to see if there was any higher growth, then finally climbing to see if what he had spotted was the kind of fungus he wanted, or something else. And that was probably exactly as Justyn had planned, too, for Justyn knewmore about where things grew on the edge of the Forest than Darian did. He must have climbed twenty trees before he found a single growth.
By that time, at least, he had worked out something to try to keep the fetid-smelling juice off his hands when he broke the piece off. He wrapped several layers of leaves over the place where he held the fungus to break it off, and immediately discarded them once the fungus was safely in the basket. Although it still smelled terrible, he managed not to get any of the smell on himself.
He was up a third tree, when he gradually became aware of a great deal of noise and shouting from the direction of the village. He craned his head as far as he could around thetree trunk, and nearly fell off the limb he was sitting on.
There was smoke rising from the village, and from the road beyond it - he saw people, made small by the distance, trying frantically to catch loose horses, or heading toward the river with bundles on their backs and children stumbling along behind, moving as quickly as they could.
A moment more, and he sawthe red of flame flickering on the other side of the river, light glancing off something very bright and metallic, and the shouts turned to screams.
A single thought formed through the shock. Something was happening. The village of Errold‘s Grove - somehow, for some reason - was under attack!
What am I going to do with this boy? Justyn thought, as he watched Darian slouch his way through the corn, heading to the edge of the woods. The boy vanished from sight within moments and he wasn‘t tryingto hide, thistime. No wonder hecould evade virtually any watcher! Why, he didn‘t even makethestalksmove ashepassedthrough them if you didn‘t knowhewas in thefield, you‘dthink it was empty.
Justyn sighed heavily, went back into the cottage, shut the door firmly behind him to discourage visitors, and sank into hischair. Hedidn‘t want to see anyoneelsetoday, unless it was atearing emergency. All morning he had been receiving visitors eager to give him their own idea of what he should do about Darian‘s latest infraction, and someof the speakers had voiced something stronger than mereopinion. It was clear that if hecouldn‘t get Darian turned around, there werethose who would take care of the situation for him.
Most ofthem wantedhim to dismisstheboy, and didn‘t really carewhat happenedto him after he was dismissed. He wouldn‘t beallowed to stay here,that was certain. Thevillagersdidn‘t likethe way their children were reacting to his presence - or, morespecifically, hisactions. He‘sa disruptive influence, washowDerrel Lutter,the shopkeeper, put it. Hedoesn‘t fit, an‘ evejy part of avillage hasto fit.
Widow Clay had dropped by on the pretext of having her bad knee looked at, and had been more to thepoint. Theother childrenthink he‘s somekindof hero. Or at least, they think he‘s somebody to look up to. If he‘s allowedto sasshis eldersand get away with it, every young‘un in Errold‘s Groveis gonna start doin‘ the same, she‘dpointed out.So unless you wantto bethereason for a lot of spanked bottoms and soapy mouths, you‘d better get that boyto act like somethingother than a savage. Folks have given him a certain amount of room, on account of losing his parents and all, but they‘reout of patience.
And the woman was perfectly right. Although he held himself aloof from the other children in the village, Darian was a profound influence on them and even Justyn had noticed it. They envied his freedom, freedom to run off and do what he wanted, and freedom to speak his mind even to an adult. They all wished that their parents had been as adventurous as his, and when he was willing to talk about it (which was not often) they hung on every word of his stories about living in the Forest. Any one of them would happily havetraded places with him, even though life with Justyn was hardly one of exalted status. And when they could get away with it, they flat -out imitated him. The most coveted item among the village children at the moment was a tooled leather vest like Darian wore; that was what virtually all of them, of both sexes, had requested as birthing-day presents. Justyn had actually considered that attitude a healthy one, and he had secretly hoped some of it might rub off on the parents. It had been something of a half daydream of his. If their elders got some spine back, and decided to stop fearing the Forest and go back out to do what had brought prosperity to the village in the first place, then the place would stop stagnating. It might even prosper again, and they would discover that there was nothing so terrible in thePelagiris after all. They would stop denigrating Darian‘sparents, andmight even stoop to consultinghim about theForest, which would raiseboth his status and Justyn‘s in the eyes of the village.
Even if Darian‘s influencehadonly been onthe children,they looked likely to go out and do whattheir parents fearedto. Errold‘s Grove would prosper again;perhapsnot thisyear, orthenext, but in the future.
That was the goodinfluence; in themeantime, thechildren wereasproneto imitate Darian‘s sins as his virtues. So Darian was likely to cause another uproar when word of this day leaked out to the children. Without a doubt, there would be a brief plague of children sneaking out on their appointed tasks to play truant, and defying their parents when taken to task.
That had notbeen in any of Justyn‘shalf-formed plans.
He sighed, then rested his aching head on his hand. It seemed that nothing he had thought of for Darian was working out in the way he had hoped.
Perhaps if I proved to him what his behavior is doing in setting an example, and a bad one, among theotherchildren ? Hesnotan unreasonable child, and hewouldn „twant to get theothers in trouble. That might do the trick; perhaps Justyn had been going about this all wrong. Darian had been treatedas asortof miniatureadult by hisparents; he‘dhad agreat dealof independence with them. He was used to relative freedom and the responsibility of deciding what he was to do for himself, but Justyn had been treating him as a directionless child.
Justyn tapped a little marching rhythm on the arm of his chair with his free hand, and frowned as he thought. I should sit down with him, I think. Instead of lecturing him, or going on about howmuch he owes us, I should point out to him no, thats wrong. That would be treating him asa child again, and although what he is doing is childish, I am no longer certain his motives are entirely those of a child. Instead of telling him anything, perhaps I should begin by listening to him. If I can get him to tell me what has been going through his mind these many months, perhaps we can work out the best way to proceed together. And - perhaps I should tell him my own story, and let him see why I am teaching him the way I am. Thatmight be the way to get through to him.
Lost in thesethoughts, and unexpectedly wearied from the stress of dealing with allthose unhappy visitors, Justyn closed his eyes. Just for a moment - just to easethem. One moment turned to two, and two to many, and without intending to permit himself the luxury, he dozed off, dreaming of a repentant apprentice, now willing to be taught and to take on the responsibilities of a proper student . . . then he reached the point in sleep where his dreams themselves faded away.
Justyn was so deep in slumber that it took several moments for the sound of the alarm bell in the village squareto penetrate his consciousness. When it did sift through, it brought him awake with a start. It took another few moments for him to collect his thoughts and realize what it was that had awakened him, it had been so long since that particular bell had been rung. The last time had been due to a flood - but what could possibly be amiss this time? A quick glance out the window showed that there wasno sign of a storm, andthevillagehad been so quiet that Dalian‘speccadillo wasthe worst thing to disturb the dull routine of the day. What had happened to changethat?
His heart pounded uncomfortably at the sudden awakening. He struggled up out of his chair, every joint protesting violently at such sudden movement, and got his walking stick down off the wall. He opened his door on pandemonium. Outside beyond the nearest houses in the village square, there was a babble of voices, the noise of many people running to and fro. He heard many people shouting, and there was panic in their tones; he hobbled out his door to see folk streaming toward the center of town from the fields. He joined them, alarm giving him moreenergy than he‘dhadfor many a day. By the time he reached the square, most of them had beaten him there. Some had already heard the news, which must be terrible indeed to judge from the way they were pelting back to their houses, faces pale and eyes gone panicky and full of fear. Others had already been to their houses and were returning, with hunting bows, boar-spears, and rusty old antique weapons in their hands.
A monster? Bandits? Surely not war who would we be fighting? The Hawkbrothers? No, thats not possible. Surely there is some other explanation
Derrel Lutter stood beside Nandy, who was still ringing the bell with wide-eyed determination. Her hair had come undone and flew in wild tendrils all about her face. Beside Derrel was a stranger holding the reins of atired horse, whose clothing showed the effects of a hard ride, and whose face was pinched with terror he was trying not to let loose.
Don‘ttry to fight, you fools,theman shoutedover thebell andthe shouting, his voice cracking with strain. Run, I tellyou, run!I triedto tellyou before, andyou didn‘t believeme! This isn‘t some band of brigands, this is an army, andyouhaven‘t achance against it!
Bewildered, Justyn looked around and saw Vere coming back to the square with a determined scowl on his face and a boarspear in hishands, and seized hisarm.What in thenameof heaven is goingon?he shouted.
Verethrust hischin at the stranger.Thatthere‘s afeller from Riverford Farm, big estateupwater whereDerrel does sometrading,he shouted back.Derrelvouchesfor him. Cameriding in bout mid-dinner. Says a gang of men and monsters came storming in and massacred everybody in sight; says he was out with the herds and managed to get away on his horse andmakea run for it. Hewasn‘t too clear on what he‘d seen, not then anyway, so we figured it was bandits, andTom Kalley rounded up themilitia.Theman paused when he sawthe look of noncomprehension on Justyn‘s face.He mounted up, and ledem out, just like always. Wasn‘t nothingto frighten the women about, he thought, so nobody told em except for theones whosemen hadda go;men‘d just go out, turn em away from the village, and send a messenger over to Lord Breon. Youknowwe ain‘t never hadno trouble before. We figgered Riverford just been caught out,that‘sall. Too badfor them, but we were ready, see?
Justyn shook his head, not yet understanding the cause for such a high level of panic. The Errold‘s Grovemilitianever had experienced any trouble discouraging bandits from coming after the town. It didn‘t make any sense!
Vere wasn‘t through yet. “One of them - just one - came back a short bit ago; his horse was foundering, and it dropped and died right after hetumbled off. The rest they‘regone.
Justyn gaped at him. The militia - twenty men in all - were well armed and quite adequately trained, and their ability to fight on horseback had given them a considerable edge over bandits, who were generally afoot and even when horsed did not knowhowto fight as a group. When the Guard had been forced to leave to go to the front, the Queen had no intention of leaving them defenseless; she had sent spare horses and arms, and someone to train volunteers from the village in fighting. Their Herald had supervised the training, and had seen to it that the trainer left instructions on drilling and practices, which the militia undertook with religious regularity. One of the duties of their Herald was to make surethat they stayed in training, and the occasional bandits only gave them incentive to continuethat way. Justyn had watchedthem, andthey weren‘t bad - and the level of their expertise was obvious in the fact that they had handled every bandit group that they had come up against. How could they have been wiped out so easily?
The stranger grabbed Nandy and took the bell-rope out of her hands by force, so that the clangor finally stopped. Listen to me Listen to me!”he shouted, and the cries and screams stopped as abruptly as the cessation of the bell peals. His words fell into the sudden silence like cold, round stones into a pool.
Youheardthe boy - your men aredead,”hesaid forcefully, and awoman‘shysterical sob pierced the quiet, only to be muffled by her neighbor pulling her head into the shelter of her shoulder. Thestranger ignoredher. You can‘t do anythingfor them;you can only saveyourselves, andthere‘s not much timeto do that. Send someone downriver to Kelmskeep and Lord Breon, someone on a fast horse or in a swift boat and do it now. The rest of you, grab what you can, and run, as fast and as far as you can.This isno bandit horde, I‘mtellingyou, I knowbecauseI sawthem. Thisis an army;it‘s men and monsters, and it looks like a demon is leading them. They killed everyone at Riverford that resisted, andthey‘ll do the samehere.
Now Justyn saw that young Ado Larsh, barely seventeen and the youngest member of the militia, was sitting on the platform beside the stranger; there was a bloody rag acting as a bandage around hi s head and one eye, and another binding his arm. He looked white, in deep shock, but nodded in confirmation of everything the man said.
What about those who didn‘t resist?WidowClay calledout sharply. What happenedto them?
Someone else growled, and a fewof her neighbors cast her angry looks, but she gave them back look for look. Thereare someof us, shepointed out,who can‘t run. Myself andKyle, for two. What happenedtothosewho didn‘t resist?
Thestranger shook hishead. I don‘t know. I didn‘t wait aroundto see. But I can tellyouthat from the smoke that rose up behind me, it looked to me like they put every building on the estate to thetorch, and I can only hopethere wasn‘t anyoneinthose buildings when they went up.
Th-ththey‘re m-m-moving f-ffast,”Ado stammered. C-ccan‘t b-be f-far b-bbehind.
There was silence then, nothing but silence. Clearly, no one knew what to do next, and if no one took charge, in a moment, there would be nothing but blind panic. People would be caught between trying to hide and trying to escape, torn between saving possessions and getting away quickly, and managingonlyto confuse matters further. If someone didn‘ttellthem what to do, nothing would be done at all, and they would all die stupidly and uselessly.
Right. I‘lltakeover from here,Justyn heardhimself say into thedeathly hush. Peopleturnedto see who had spoken, as if they didn‘t recognizehis voice. Maybethey didn‘t;this wasthe first time he had spoken with real authority in years.
He pulled himself up as tall as he could, and pushed through the crowd with the aid of his staff until he got himself up on the platform. Their faces turned up to meet his, all of them white and shocked, all of them looking for an answer from anyone - even him. Well, as it happened, he had one for them. A bit of murmuring started, and he quelled it with three sharp raps of the end of his staff on the boards beneath his feet.
Thisis war, and war is what I cameout of. Helooked aroundto seeif there was any disagreement.Someof youmay not havebelievedmy war tales,‘ asyou calledthem, butthey were as true asthe fact that I‘veseen howarmiesoperate. I knowwhat‘scoming and I knowwhat I‘m talking about. The stranger is right you aren‘t fighters, anyone who had any realtraininghere is dead. You have no experience of anything but dealing with a few bandits, and I tell you nowthere is no way you can defend yourselves, let alone the village, against an army of trained and organized fighters.
He had their full attention now, and sincethe majority of those below him were women and children, not men, there were fewer who were disposed to argue with that assessment.
Which is justas well, since itsan honest one.
Your best bet isto tryto escape, ortry to hide. Anyone who wantsto take achanceon staying I‘d suggest you go to theriverbank asfar from thevillage asyou can and stay together,hesaid briskly. Don‘ttakeanythingof value with you; armies like this are paid in loot, and if you stand betweenthem andtheir loot,they‘llkillyou. If youhavevaluableswith you,they‘llkillyouto get at them. Let them have what they want - if you all survive this, you can petition the Crown for relief and get it. If you go hide yourselves beside the river, have nothing they want, and look as harmless as possible, oncethey‘re doneworkingout their battle-lust in looting, they‘ll get aroundto findingyou andthey probably won‘t killyou. Probably. That‘sallI can promiseyou out of my military experience they might just want loot, andthey‘ll leaveyoucompletely alone, never lookingfor you; or they might decide to make slaves - or something - out of you. If you have young children, take toys and sweets to keep them quiet. When the enemy soldiers find you, grovel, beg, bowyour heads to the ground andplead withthem and don‘t stand up untiltheytellyouto. With luck, they won‘t find you at all, with alittle less, they‘lllet you go, and with a bit lessthanthat, you‘ll end up servingthem.
He didn‘t say what elsemight happen;this was not thetimeto turn thewomen hysterical. If they hadn‘t already thought of itthemselves,therewas no point in bringingthe subject up.
But at least we‘ll bealive,WidowClay declared, and beganto hobble determinedly towardthe river. Justyn gaveher credit for good sense;shedidn‘t even look back at her cottage, much less go back to try and save anything. She simply set her sights on the river and in putting as much distance between herself and the approaching trouble as possible.
The rest of you do as you weretold- take boats or horses if you have them, go afoot if you don‘t, andrun, now.Don‘t stop to take anything with you; every moment you wastepacking valuables is a moment when you could be putting as much distance between you and here as possible. Don‘t let your jewelry cost you your life. Go to Kelmskeep;it‘sfortified, and should be ableto hold off a siege.
A fewmoved to followthe widow, and before anyone else could start, he rapped his staff on the platform again. As for me,hetrumpeted, in apretty fair imitation of hisold sergeant‘s parade- groundvoice,I‘llholdthe bridge against them. I‘veheld bridges before, andthisoneonly needs one warrior - or wizard - to hold it long enough for a considerable delay. The rest of you takethe time I buy for you and run for Kelmskeep or put some furlongs between you and here. Lord Breon has a real garrison of veteran fighters, and he also has ways of getting word out in a few hours to the Guard. He can protect those of you who reach him long enough for the Guard and the Heralds to get here, relievea siege, and drivetheenemy out of Errold‘sGrove. If you can spareamoment, set fireto your hay and your outbuildings as you run - the smoke will help hide you and might alert others out there that there‘strouble. Thefire will confusetheenemy andkeep them occupieda littlelonger. They might stop long enough to try and put it out, or they might run into burning buildings thinkingthere‘s loot and get themselves crisped. Whatever you do, if you get caught,dont fightback. Fall to the ground and beg for mercy. They‘retrained, you‘renot - and there will be many of them for every one of you. Nowmove!”hefinished, in a bellowthat startledthem allout oftheir posesof shock. You haventmuch time! Save your lives! Now! “
As he had expected, they were all so happy that there was someone who could take charge of the situation and tell them clearly what to do that no one argued with him. They simply scattered - some to follow Widow Clay, someto their boats or for their horses, some headed straight for the woods on foot, perhaps planning to take cover there and follow the river road to Lord Breon‘s estate. He walked slowly and calmly toward the bridge, and as he passed the inn, he saw with a mingled sense of admiration and irony that Lilly had her own strategy for surviving. She had loaded a wheelbarrow with a small keg that could only be brandywine, some mugs, and amattress, and she was headed obliquely toward the river on the upstream side of the village. It was fairly obvious to Justyn that in this situation at least, Lilly was not as stupid as everyone had thought she was. She had a fair idea what an invading army would do with a woman, and she was going to see that the ones who found her had a reason to protect her and keep her out of the hands of their fellows. Able-bodied and used to hard work, she would probably go far enough away from the others that when soldiers found her, there would only be a few of them, and someone who acted like a cooperative, would-be camp follower had good odds of surviving this encounter. She might even find one man strong enough to hold off the others, and willing to act as her protector, which was the best any woman could hope for in a case like this one. He wished her good luck, silently.
As if shehad somehowheardhis wish, sheturned and looked back at him. He couldn‘t hear her completely over the noise of the fleeing villagers, but he read the words on her lips.
I knowwhat you meanto do. Gods bless and keep you, Wizard Justyn.
She turned away, but before her face was completely averted, he sawtears starting up in her eyes. Tears? For me? With astonishment, he felt a kind of weight lift away from his shoulders and a new strength and dignity enter him; he drew himself up and continued his stately progress to the bridge.
No one else paid him any attention - but no one else even thought to question his plan, to recall that only afewhours before, hehad been the unregarded, scornedold fool who couldn‘t even manage to discipline a young boy. That was just as well, because he did have a plan, and he knew it would work. He might not have much magic left, but he had enough for one last trick, and it would delay pursuit long enough . . . long enough.
Long enough for Dorian to get deep into the Forest. Thanks to the gods that I sent him off candlemarks ago! Hell seethe commotion, and hell run, likea sensible lad. Theres nothing holding him here, afterall, and I suspectthathesbeen tempted to run awaymore than once. This willjust givehim the excuseheneeds. Hehashisbow; he knows the woods, its summer, and hehas enough control ofmagic that his power can help him a little. He knows where Kelmskeep is, if not how to get there. I thinkhellbeallright.
He went to themiddle of the bridge - if the people behind him knew it, a good magic place, suspended among three of the four elements: air, water, and the earth that the wood of the bridge had grown out of and was rooted in. He grounded his staff on the wood of the bridge, and began drawing power out of the world around himself. It was a slow process, but he had time - and besides, allthat he gathered was only intended to add to the power within himself. Normally, he would not be able to tap into much of that
Well, this situation isnot exactly “normal.”
As he began, the old black tomcat ambled up, and sat down neatly at his feet, just as calmly as if he were sitting down at the hearth, waiting for dinner.
Justyn looked down atthe cat, bemusedly.I wish I knewwhat you really were,hetoldthe cat. I wish I knewif you were just an opportunist, or arealPelagir familiar. It might not makemuch of a difference to this situation, but well, it wouldto me.
Halfheartedly, he tried to shoo the cat away, but it refused to leave his side, and he gave up. Small, aged animals fared poorly in situations likethis one; it would be better off with him . The cat looked up at him with one eye, truly a jaundiced look if there ever was one, yawned hugely, and turned his attention toward the road.
Justyn took his cue from the cat, and saw a plume of dust rising abovethe treetops. The enemy was coming - whoever the enemy was. And as had been warned, it was coming swiftly.
Justyn took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment, reaching inside himself for calm and certainty. When he opened them again, a heartbeat later, he was ready.
This will be a very short confrontation.
Darian wasout of breath by thetimehereachedthevillage; Justyn wasn‘t in thecottage, the flames he had seen were from haystacks and sheds, and when he saw Vere throw a flaming brand into the thatch of his own cottage, he realized t hat the villagers themselves had set their property aflame. Everywhere, people were fleeing as if for their lives; in the confusion it seemed as if there were hundreds more folk than actually lived in the village, and he wondered if they had all gone suddenly mad. He coughed in the acrid smoke, and stood poised in the midst of the chaos, searching for someone to tell him what was going on.
Someone seized his arm; he automatically started to wrench away, when as he turned, he saw it was Kyle, the woodcutter.You gottarun andhide in the woods, boy!theman shoutedoverthe noiseof fireand fleeingpeople, shaking hisarm for emphasis. There‘stroubleon the way, big trouble fighters, an army, more‘n wecan handle!
He droppedDarian‘s arm and hobbled off toward the river, using a stick as a crutch, leaving the boy staring after him, blankly.
Trouble? More than they can handle? What was that supposed to mean?
As Kyle had held him, the last of the villagers had left the confines of the town; nothing impeded him but therefuseof what they‘d left behindintheir wake, andthefires and smoke.Pigs, goats, chickens, geese, and even cattle milled in the street, evidently turned loose by their owners. He ran up the path toward the bridge, jumping over dropped bundles and dodging the confused and panicky livestock and fowl, certain only that whatever was coming, it would be coming from that direction, since it was away from that direction that everyone was running.
It never occurred to him that Justyn might not have run away with the rest of them until he got around a house and could see the bridge - and Justyn was standing, straight as a post, in the middle of it.
Theoldcat sat calmly at hisside, and Justyn had groundedhiswizard‘s staffon the woodof the bridge, for all the world as if it was a real magical staff and not just a glorified walking stick. His back was to the village; all his attention was on the road on the other side of the bridge.
Something was making a very large dust cloud on the road, a dust cloud that approached the river
- and it was coming on uncomfortably fast.
Darian stood stock still, and stared. He felt like a fly in amber - feet frozen where he had stopped, able to observe, but unableto move or speak.
The dust cloud neared, approached the bridge; now he saw what made it.
People. People carrying weapons. And Things, also with glittering weapons in their hands. A great many of both.
They were arrayed in evenly spaced ranks, armed and armored identically and heavily - or at least, more heavily than anyone in the village militia or the Guard that Darian had ever seen had been. The sun reflected brightly off shiny pike-heads and helms, off shields and axes, all very strong and new-looking. They were led by something much larger than Kyle, and quite clearly not human, who was sitting on an animalthat was clearly not a horse. The differences between the humans and the Things weren‘t subtle; if someone had taken a bear and given it the tusks of a boar, that was what the humansizedThings looked like. They didn‘t wear much in the way of ahelm, but it didn‘t look as if they really needed a helm, which was frightening in and of itself. They had small, red eyes, hairy muzzles, and low brows underneath their helmets. The humans looked - like humans. Only mean, and cold, as ifthey didn‘t much careabout anything.
The largeThing was something of a different order altogether. Where skin showed under armor, it was a sort of flat, dead, greenish color, like mud with river-algae mixed in. Its face was flat, with a wide nose that had slits instead of nostrils. Its mouth was another slit, lipless, and when it opened its mouth, Darian saw that all of its teeth were pointed. Its eyes were a flat, dull gray, with tiny pinprick pupils, as if it preferred darkness to light. The creature it rode resembled nothing so much as a huge lizard with fat, kneeless legs and along, fat tail. Themount didn‘t needarmor; it hadvgrown its own.
The leading Thing halted, and the entire army behind it came to a dead stop as it held up its hand. It looked at Justyn, at the cat, and back to Justyn. Darian expected it to laugh at the temerity of one silly old man trying to stop them allfrom coming acrossthat bridge, but it didn‘t laugh. Instead, it narrowed its eyes and glared at Justyn, without saying a word.
Justyn simply stood there, calmly, as if he saw such things every day, as if keeping them from crossing the bridge was no great matter.
Darian‘sheart raced;there was aroaring in hisears, andhehad broken into a cold sweat. His stomach was doing flips, his throat was knotted, and he shivered like an aspen leaf. He wanted to run to help Justyn, to drag him away, to shout at least but he couldn‘t do anything. Nothing in his body would answer to his will; he could only stand and watch, numb with fear.
Justyn seemed to growtaller for a moment; and his ragged robes gathered around him of themselves like a royal garment. He looked, at that moment, just like a real wizard, the kind they made songs about and painted portraits of. He looked likeWizard Kyllian.
Like a hero
TheThing lifted the reins of its mount, and the lizard put one ponderous foot after the other onto the bridge, its head swinging from side to side with each pace, and the first lot of bear -things followed until it and the entire first rank of creatures was crowded six -deep behind it on the bridge. Justyn simply stood there, unmoving, until the muzzle of the lizard was barely the length of his staff away from his face.
Justyn bowed his head in a momentary nod.
Then, with no warning, the entire bridge and everything on it vanished into a sheet of flame.
Darian screamed, but his cry of horror and dismay was lost in the sound of the explosion. The concussion of the blast knocked Darian off his feet and stunned him for a moment; when he scrambled back up, there was no sign of Justyn or even of the bridge, just a roaring torrent of fire stretching over the river that reached from one bank to the other.
Darian didn‘t think, couldn‘tthink - but his body wanted to live, and knewthat the only way to make surethat he lived was to run. So it did, and it carried Darian along with it, even though his heart cried to join Justyn in the flames.
He jumped a hedgerowand beforehe‘dhit the ground,thehedge disintegrated and blewpast him in pieces. Hetumbledonto his left sideandcriedout, but hecouldn‘t hear himself. Darian‘s vision narrowed to what was before him, losing his peripheral awareness, his mind obsessed only with being on his feet again and running for all he could gain.
He ran as he had never run before, hardly conscious of anything but picking the path in front of him. Bits of flaming debris from the bridge flew through the air and landed in his path, in the thatch of intact cottages, setting them afire. He scattered a flock of chickens before him, astongues of flame licked at him and smoke blew into his eyes confusing him and making it hard to see as he choked and coughed. He didn‘t rightly seemto be in controlof his body at all;he was carriedalong, a stunned passenger in a vehicle that had its own ideas about what it was goingto do. It wasn‘t as easy running through the village as it usually was - there were fires everywhere now, and debris and more of the things that the villagers had dropped as they escaped littering the usually orderly pathways. He had to double back and circle around obstacles, so that his path through the village to the safety of the forest took on the twisted quality of a nightmare.
There was a lot of noise behind him, shouting and splashing, and as soon as he broke free of the houses, he turned for an instant and discovered that the enemy had found the ford that the bridge had replaced. They had come up along either side of the burning bridge, flanking the village, and were already running up the riverbank, cutting him off from the woods.
But there weren‘t many of them yet, they were all human, and they were spaced quite far apart. He was most of the way across a field of waist-high wheat when the first one spotted him and shouted.
The shout acted as an added incentive, not that he had needed one. But somehow he managed to put on another burst of speed and shot past the two men nearest him, bursting through the underbrush and into the woods.
Herehe was at an advantage, for heknewthepaths, andthey did not. It wasn‘t possibleto shoot at anything moving as fast as he was, for the paths twisted and turned, with foliage making it difficult to get off a clear shot. He heard men floundering through the undergrowth for a while, but after a bit, they gave up their pursuit of him.
He continued to run through the thick green Forest, pelting headlong down the path, his feet thudding in the dirt. By now his initial burst of energy had worn off; his lungs and legs burned, and he had no choice but to slow his mindless dash. Once he lost his momentum, he woke out of his trance. Strength just ran out of him, he had to slow, and then, finally, to stop.
He bent over double in themiddle of the path, hands braced on both his knees to keep them from collapsing, panting and sobbing at one and the sametime. He wanted to scream , to weep and never stop, to run until he came to the edge of the world, to run back to the village and fling himself against the entire army.
Hehadn‘t the strength to do anything buttakehuge, gasping breathsthat burned hislungs and brought a stitch to his side.
He could not believe what he had just seen, and yet the scene was etched into his memory as indelibly as if the fires Justyn had called up had scorched the imagethere.
He still couldn‘t think clearly; conflicting emotions warred in his mind for the upper hand. Rage grappled with heart -shattering grief and kept him from breaking into helpless tears. Fears warred with confusion and kept him from going on, despair battled with determinatio n and urged him to crawl into the nearest hole to hide. Where was he to go? What was he to do? How was he to get away from these madmen? For madmen they must be; why would anyone in his right mind want to attack an impoverished, dying backwater like Errold‘s Grove, aplace where so fewpeoplehadeven a single copper coin to their names that most of the village transactions were run on barter and tally-sticks?
A single small, sane voice spoke up amidst the confused babble of thoughts in his head. Get off thepath, stupid! Iftheyrestill following you, thatshow theyllcome!
He straightened up with difficulty, trotted a few, stiff paces farther along the wall of underbrush, and wriggled through a set of vines whose springy tendrils would snap back behind him, rather than breaking, leaving no trace of his passage.
Unless, of course, they have some sort of tracking beast, the voice reminded him. This is no place to hide. Collect your thoughts, and think of something better.
He wriggled underneath some bushes and huddled there, breathing hard, each breath stabbing the bottom of his lungs like a red-hot poker, and listening. There was plenty of noise behind him, but nothing immediately around him.
Where did I get into the woods? Through the wheat-field; that was on the back side of the village, nextto the corn and awayfrom thebluff. So I wontbe striking the riverifI keep on this way, butI also wonthaveto climb. Will thesepeoplehavea tracking-beast? Do armies have such things with them?Hehadn‘t seen any dogs, butthat didn‘t meant they weren‘tthere. Hetriedto remember what, if anything, Justyn had saidabout the armieshehad been with, but he couldn‘t recollect enough. Now heregretted not listeningto theoldman‘s stories;they‘d seemed so irrelevant at the time, but now - !
Now I only hope I have more time to regret not listening to him!
His next thought was to climb atree, but he dismissed it immediately as a bad idea. If the enemy had atracker, he‘d betrapped. No, hehadto get asfar away from the village as possible.
And then what?
Onething ata time; getawayfirst, worryaboutwhatcomesnextafter youvegotten away.

He stayed wherehe was untilhis sides and legs didn‘t hurt asmuch, listening cautiously for sounds that meant pursuit. That didn‘t justmean the soundsof someone coming down thepath behind him; it meant the lack of normal sounds from the small birds and animals nearby, and the warning calls of birds that had been disturbed by intruders, cries that would come from higher up in thetrees.

There was nothing immediately around him but silence broken only by a few faint rustles and mutters, and he decided with some reluctancethat he ought to go back to the path. It was true that anyone hunting him would haveto use it, but it was equally true that he would make much better time if he didn‘t haveto fight his waythrough the undergrowth. His passage would be quieter, too.

I can waituntilImdeeper into theForest beforeI getoff thepath. A bitfartheron, the undergrowth thins, and I can move through the trees a great deal easier.
That would make for another danger, though. Thinner undergrowth would mean a better chance of being spotted if theenemy hadalso goneoff thepath. Just becauseheknewtheForest, it didn‘t followthat the enemy was ignorant of it.
Nevertheless, sitting here only made being caught more likely. He shook off his doubts, wriggled out of his cover as branches and twigs caught at his hair and clothing, and found his way back to the path he had abandoned, trying to make a minimum of disturbanceto the underbrush.
His tough, bare feet made no more sound on the path than the falling of a leaf, and hetrotted along with an arrow nocked to his bow, all senses alert, for what seemed like an eternity. His nerves strained to the breaking point, so much that he shivered, like a nervous hare, and started each time a birdcall brokethe silence. Every deeper shadow seemed to hide an enemy, and every cracking twig might bethe sound of a heavy foot.
Whatsahead of me in this direction? Hethought about the path for a while, and decided that one of his storm-shelters was - a pile of rock slabs in the middle of a rock-strewn clearing, with enough room under three of them piled together for him to squeeze himself an d a small fire beneath. According to the villagers, at some point - farther than any of them had ever cared to go and farther than he had been able to penetrate it became Hawkbrother territory.Well, weren‘t they supposedto be Valdemar‘s allies? Shouldn‘t they do something about these invaders? If he could get away, maybe he ought to try to find them.
If he could get away from the invaders in the first place. A posthumous revenge was not going to be very satisfactory from his point of view.
The undergrowth thinned, as he knewfrom past explorations that it would, and he put his arrow back in the quiver, fastened the cover over it, and unstrung his bow, slinging it over his shoulder. Nowthat he could see for some distance, he knew that he no longer had much of an advantage with his bow - if he saw an enemy now, it would not be a case of surprise at short range, and the enemies were armored. He might be the best shot in the village, but a small-game bowhad no chance against armor. His only chance of felling one of these men would lie in a lucky shot through the helm-slit, and today did not seem a good day to trust his luck.
He picked up his pace into the lope his father had taught him for covering the greatest amount of ground with the least effort. Now it was possible to see for some distance under thetrees; what growth there was here was composed of thin, delicate bushes with slender leaves, a few sparselyleaved vines with stems as thick as his leg, and some pale-green weeds liberally festooned with prickles. There wasn‘t agreat dealof cover, and it wasthehugetreetrunksthemselvesthat blocked vision. He got off the path, and under the trees, hoping that he would be able to see trouble before it saw him.
A few furlongs farther on, he ran into the enemy‘s secondline. He literally ran into it; a patrol of three mounted men - he rounded a huge tree trunk and suddenly there they were, their horses shying away from the unexpected intruder.
That was all that allowed him to escapethem. Asthey fought their startled horses, he dodged between two of them, and ran, darting in and around the trees, feeling the place between his shoulder blades crawl as he expected an arrowto hit there at any moment.
After the initial surprise, they seemed to treat his appearanceas something of ajoke. He couldn‘t understand their language, but their laughter was plain enough - cruelthough it sounded. Evidently they thought that hunting him was going to be an entertaining way to pass the time. As he ran and dodged, hoping to get to his rockpile and hide, they pursued him without putting their horses into a lather, and before too many moments had passed, it was obvious to him that they were making a game out of herding him before them.
He glanced back once or twice and sawthatthey‘dtaken off their helms and gorgets and both were dangling from the pommels of their saddles by the straps. That only allowed him to seetheir faces more clearly, and what he saw in those brief glances chilled him. These were cold and hardened men, who were getting a great deal of cruel amusement from playing with him as a cat plays with a terrifiedmouse.They clearly thought he was assoft asoneofthevillagersand wouldn‘t last long before tiring - and they had every reason to believethat. He was skinny and looked younger than he was, and they were on horseback. If they could get him running in a straight line, they could easily tire him out and run him down.
So he wouldn‘t run in a straight line, and he wouldtry to get to hisrock pile, wherehorses couldn‘t go without breaking an ankle. Oncehe got wedged into hishole, he could drawhisknife and keep them at bay.
And then what?
Well, maybethey‘d get tiredof tryingto pry him out. Atthemoment,this was hisonly hope, faint though it was.
He dodged around a tree, waited until they thundered past him with his back pressed against the bark, and then made a dash for another temporary obstacle in the form of a patch of vines. He dove into those, rolled beneath them and came out the other side while they were still hacking their way through the stems withtheir swords. Nowhe sawthe sign that he was nearer his goalthan he‘d thought - a tall, standing stone, shaped like a finger pointing straight upward. He dashed for that, ducked around it, dove and scrambled beneath a bush as one of the men charged him with an incomprehensible shout. He made it through to the other side of the bush, and scrabbled to his feet again to make the last dash for the rock pile.
The men bellowed laughter as they chased him; he threwhimself flat as they charged down at him, then picked himself up and made a scramble over the last couple of furlongs. They overshot him and had to pull their horses around in a wide circle to avoid riding them into thetreacherous footing of therocks. His heart was pounding so hard it rivaledthe soundof thehorses‘ hooves, and allhe could think about was that narrowtriangle of dark that meant his hiding place. If he could get in there, he‘d behardto get out
He scuttled over the rocks, the stones shifting under his feet and making him slip and fall, bruising palms and knees. The crevice was close, almost within reach
A shadow fell over him as his hand actually touched the first of the great stone slabs that formed his shelter. He flinched away, tried to throw himself to the side, but it was too late.
His heart literally stopped, and a dark film passed over his vision.
A hand seized the collar of his shirt and hauled him upright, dangling him in the air in front of the crudest facehehad ever seen in his life. Theman‘s greasy hair was braided back in atail and bound around the forehead with a dirty, red scarf. He had cold, flat brown eyes, like dead pebbles, his right eyebrow was split by a scar that continued on down his cheek. His teeth were broken and discolored, his beard untrimmed and full of tiny bits of straw. He held Darian up and shook him, roaring laughter.
Darian stopped breathing.
He was the biggest man Darian had ever seen, bigger than Kyle, and every muscle of his arm s and legs under the sweat-damp, dirty skin was rock hard. And a great deal of those arms and legs showed beneath the metal corselet and thigh guards - the armor was very nearly too smallto protect him adequately. He said something to his two companions, and chortled, shaking Darian again. He smelled, too; bad breath and rank sweat, and rancid grease all combined to make him stink like a sick and unclean animal.
Darian‘smind went blank. Hehung limply in theman‘s grasp, waitingfor whatever themen was going to do to him. Whatever it was, it would probably be very bad.
The other two remained on the horses at the edge of the rockfield, shouting encouragement to their fellow. Whatever he planned to do, they obviously approved of.
Darian wondered if it would hurt for very long.
Please, he pleaded silently, hoping some god would listen. Let it be over quickly.
At that instant, the shaft of a whitefeatheredarrowappeared intheman‘sthroat, asif conjured up by hisprayer.Theman‘seyes bulged, blood sputtered from his lips, and his hand came up to claw atthe arrowthat Darian hadn‘t even heardpassover hisown shoulder.
Three
Snowfirek‘Vala, aHawkbrother of thek‘Valaclan, hadonlytwiceor threetimesbeforethis mission ever been inside the border of the land called Valdemar. He considered himself only passably, and imperfectly, acquainted with the customs of these Valdemarans. Hethought of himself as a good scout, an excellent hunter, and an indifferent mage of no better than Master level, but not any kind of an expert on their affable foreign allies.
But he did knowthis much: law-abiding mounted Valdemaran fighters of whatever ilk did not chase young boys afoot without a very good reason. They certainly did not chase such boys in the manner of a cruel game, taking pleasurefrom thechild‘sobviousfear, nor wouldthey do so with clear intent to harm him.
Therefore, when Hweel, his bondbird, came flying silently out of thetreetops, projecting urgent images of just that into his mind, Snowfire did not need to ponder diplomatic contingencies to make a decision.
Hweel madeoneof his rarecalls, warninghim that he was coming down. The bird‘scallwas a long, profound bass note like athunderous breath, deeper by far than that of a more common hoot of an owl of normal size and breeding. Snowfire held up his arm with the heavy, wrist-to-shoulder leather gauntlet on it, and prepared for Hweel‘s landing. AsHweel droppedout of thecanopy with his wings spread wide to slowhis glide, Snowfire braced himself. He had to; Hweel was easily three or four times the size and mass of most bondbirds, and twice the size and mass of a normal eagle-owl. Even with no intent to harm, simply landing came as something of a shock to the one Hweel was landing on.
Feet the sizeof Snowfire‘shand closed relatively gently on his arm upon impact, andthrough a triple-thickness of leather, he still felt their potentially-lethal strength. Snowfire endured the buffeting of Hweel‘s wings for amoment asthebird steadiedhimself;then Hweel folded his massive pinions and settledon Snowfire‘sarm. Snowfire stared into theround, golden eyes andopened hismind fully to his bondbird.
Hweel showed him images from above, of course, but every detail was unnervingly sharp. There were three well-armed but ill-kempt fighters on horseback, apparently patrolling through thetall trees.Through Hweel‘smemory, Snowfire sawathin boy with abow, and not much else, suddenly blunder in among them. The boy ran, the fighters followed, making a game of letting him stay just far enough in front to make him think he might escape, taking pleasure in herding him.
:Guide me,: hetold his bird, and with an effort that drove a short grunt from him, he cast Hweel up into the air. The bird spread his wings, and with powerful downstrokes, drove himself upward.
:What passes?: his mount asked, tossing his long, curved horns and tilting his head so that the intelligent eyes faced Snowfire.
:Nothing good,: Snowfire replied, dismounting. Hetold the dyheli stag who was his partner to go back to the others with a message that he had been detained and why, then got his bow and quiver down from the roll tied to thedyhelis creamcolored saddlepadthat nearly matchedthe stag‘s creamy coat.
:Are you certain you wish to do this afoot?: the stag asked, flicking his ears with aloof interest.
:No pointinmaking itobvious that Im notof kValdemar,: he replied, stringing his bow with a little effort.:Besides, ifthese ruffians see you, theyII probablyshoot you formeat.:
The stag snorted with affront and disgust. :Barbarians, then, and ignorant,: the stag replied. :I will tell the others.: And with that, the stag leaped easily and gracefully away, heading unerringly for the encampment. He made scarcely a sound as he ran; the dyheli were masters of their environment, the deep Forest.
Snowfire followed Hweel, nocking an arrowto his bow, making even less sound than the stag. Likethe dyheli, the Tayledras weremasters of the Forest.
The others were expecting him to return to their base camp with game soon; dealing with this situation would probably not take long to resolve. But having sent the dyheli Sifyra back with word of what he was doing, if he did not return within a reasonabletime, some of the others would come after him, and Sifyra could lead them to the right place.
Half of being clever is making certain you are not being stupid.That was aShin‘a‘in proverb, and one of his favorites. He might not be one for swift thinking, but he seldom put a foot wrong. Perhaps Nightwind, his lady love, preferred Most battle plans do not survive the initial encounter with the enemy, but she had associated with the gryphons for too long for some of their cavalier and devil-may-care attitude not to have rubbed off.
Snowfire kept every sense alert, nowthat he was afoot and alone on the ground. He noted every deeper shadow beneath the canopy of the enormous trees here, notedathetenor of birdsong up in the canopy itself, drank in the scents of forest litter, searching for the aroma of newly-bruised greenery. Hweel did not see everything; it was perfectly possible that there was an ambush waiting here somewhere.
Hweel flew silently up through the lower branches of the canopy; Hweel could fly silently, because he, unlike every other bondbird in theyedorkandan kshulah was a short-eared eagle-owl. Owls flew with no betraying sound at all unless very close, thanksto their soft-edged feathers. And unlike most owls, the eagle-owls were equally adept at day or night flying, making them ideal bondbirds for a scout or hunter who might find himself moving by day or night. Yet there were few of them amongtheTayledrasof k‘Vala, for there were only four breeding pairs in the entire Vale at the moment. Snowfire considered himself incredibly fortunate that Hweel had chosen him as his bondmate.
In such a circumstance as this, he felt even greater gratitude. No one would see Hweel unless Hweel chose it to be so - and that would be a bad thing for the one making the sighting, as it would probably bethe last thing he saw. The talons of aTayledras-bred eagle-owl could piercethe skull of a goat, so great was the pressure behind them, and what they could do to a goat, could easily be done to a man. Unlike his lesser kindred, Hweel was intelligent enough to pick distinct targets for his talons such as vulnerable eye sockets. Although Snowfire had not yet needed to put such killing power to the test against a man, Hweel had already proven himself valiant and valuable against the Changebeasts loosed by the mage-storms.
:Hurry!:Hweel Sent urgently, andfilled Snowfire‘s mind withtheimageof a bruteof aman pursuing the boy across a pile of rocks, laughing. The man was afoot now, having left his horse at the edge of the rockfield.
Snowfire broke into a swift but cautious run. He did not want to betray his presence by either noise or movement, so he dashed from the cover of one giant tree trunk to the next, keeping himself well out of sight.
He reached the edge of the clearing just in timeto see the man in question catch the boy and haul him up by the collar. Howling with laughter, he held the boy limply from his hand; he was big enough that theboy‘sfeet dangled some distanceoff the ground. Theboy was aspaleas ice, clearly terror-stricken. There weretwo other men very nearby, mounted on horses, also laughing. Even from here, Snowfire caught an unpleasant scent of rancid grease and stale sweat.
Snowfire eased into the cover of a brush-covered boulder held in place by the massive roots of a nearby tree. Between the mottled shadows at the edge of the clearing and the camouflaging effect of his scout gear, that was quite enough cover to keep him invisible.
One of the mounted men called to the one with the boy; they did not speak Valdemaran, but one of the mountain dialects of the north.
You caught your rabbit, Cor, nowwhat areyou goingto do with him?calledthe first one.
Snowfire held down hisanger;theboy wasn‘t hurt yet, although he clearly expected something terribleto happen to him.A mountain barbarian doesntnormallykillan unarmed captive; theydo take slaves, though.
He‘stoo smallfor a work-slave, but he‘spretty enough, saidtheother mountedman. You gonna keep him for a bodyslave?
A body-slave? Do they mean what I think they mean?
Maybe, if there ain‘t enough womento go around- theoneholdingtheboy called back, laughing even harder.
That was all he ever said again; filled with fury at his words, Snowfire acted on impulse as he rarely did, rose out of the shadow of the trunk he hid behind, and fired. The arrow, fletched with owl feathers, flew as silently as Hweel, and as surely, burying itself in the softtissue of theman‘sthroat.
Even as it was still in the air, Snowfire had pulled a second arrow from the quiver at his belt and was sighting it. The man made a gurgling sound, and reached frantically up, pawing at his throat with his free hand, as the second arrow sped to join the first.
A second arrow appeared beside the first one, and the enemy fighter lost all interest in Darian, letting him go to claw at his throat with both hands. Fortunately, when his captor dropped Darian and began staggering back a little, making hideous noises, Darian was still limp.
Theboy madeasoftfallonthehard slabsof rock and somehowhis body acted for him again, and he quickly rolled out of the way of thetoppling soldier.
Get up! he screamed at himself. Get up and run, while you have the chance!
As Darian scrambled to his feet, scraping himself on the rough surface of the rocks, he instinctively turned to look in the direction from which the arrows had come.
For just an instant, and no longer, he saw a strange-looking man in the shadows of the forest on the other side of the rock pile. He was dressed in mottled green-and-brown clothing, and although he didn‘t lookold, and certainly didn‘t act old, his long, oddly-cut hair that was braided in a fewplaces and dyed, had stark silver-white roots.
He had an arrow nocked at full draw on his bow, and he loosed it, just as Darian heard something whistle past his ear from somewhere behind him. He ducked to the side, instinctively. One of his tormentors had returned an attack to the bowman from the woods.
The stranger uttered a brief exclamation as a fighting knife buried itself to the hilt in his arm. He dropped out of sight; vanishing, so far as Darian saw, and behind him Darian heard a harsh cry, a startled snort, and the sound of something heavy falling.
He turned again to see that the second enemy fighter, who had still been mounted, had fallen off his horse, an arrow through one eye. The soldier lay on the ground twitching his hands. His head jerked once as he died, then the body was still. The horse shied, but moved only far enough to join the other dead fighter‘s horse. Both of them paused amoment, then started croppingthethin grass, as if there was nothing whatsoever the matter.
What are you doing, standing in the open? Hide, stupid, hide!
Darian scuttled into hiding, behind a boulder, in shock at the sudden reversal of his fortunes. Where had this strange man come from? Who was he? And why was he helping him? This was all happening much too fast
Never mind that, scolded that sensible voice in the back of his head.There werethree, theres still at least one alive. Where there were three of those brutes, there are probably more. Do something!
Prodded into action, Darian picked up his dropped bow by somemiracleit hadn‘t been broken in all of the tumbling and rolling - and quickly strung it. Opening his quiver and getting an arrow of his own nocked, he peered cautiously around the boulder.
From where he was, he could see two more of the enemy coming cautiously on foot along the side of the rockpile. Where had the second one come from? He took a quick glance around the other side of his boulder toward the last place where he had seen the stranger, and making a quick estimate, figured that his rescuer could not see thesetwo new foes from where he was now. Injured as he was, he might not be able to defend himself.
So I guess its up to me.
Suddenly, he felt strangely calm. His stomach stopped flipping about, his hands stopped trembling, and everything took on a crystalline clarity around him, the colors deep, the edges sharp and defined.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped around the side of the boulder, and pulled his arrow back as far as he could, sighting carefully on the head of the man in the lead.
Snowfire cursed aloud with sudden pain as a flat knife, thrown by one of the two still mounted, buried itself in his biceps. He dropped, glad he had already loosed the arrow.
The blade had penetrated deep, but by luck had gone in more or less with the grain of the muscle. As hepulledtheknifefrom hisarm and discarded it, hewas rewarded bythe sound of theman‘s body hitting the ground.
Somuch for being able to pullmybowfora while. Id better get the boy and myself out of here before it comes to hand- to-hand. My climbing stick is still with Sifyra, and a match between a war ax or sword and a hunting knife is usually a short one.
He pulled a pressure bandage from the emergency pouch at his belt and wrapped it tightly around his arm, temporarily sealing the injury. A brief caress of power melded the end of the bandage into the wrap; the large magics were difficult these days, but the very smallest still worked reliably, making him often glad that he was of no higher power than a Master. He had always depended on the use of small magics, not large, and the loss of the ley-lines and the nodes was of no great import to him.
But he didn‘t havemuchtime.There was at least one fighter stillalert and active out there, perhaps more, and he himself was now wounded and not capable of drawing a bow without breaking the wound open and making it more serious than it already was. And, also to the point, he had just dispatched two of the enemy with arrows that shouted Tayledras, as clear to read as if he had branded thecorpseswith the sigilof k‘Vala.
So he had three things to do now. Rescue the boy, take care of the betraying arrows, and get both himself and the boy out of there before any more enemies appeared.
:Two come,: Hweel said, showing him where and how fast they were moving. Both had abandoned their horses, and were creeping toward him, afoot, and separated. :Two more, but from farther. They heard the pursuit of the boy, maybe. They do not hurry, but will come soon.:
:Can you protect me while I move toward the boy?: Snowfire asked in return.
The reply was not so much in words as in feelings, a sense of contempt that he had asked so simple a thing. Content in knowing that Hweel would stoop on anyone wh o got within striking distance of his bondmate, while he in turn worked his way toward the boy, Snowfire began easing his way to the other side of the rockpile. His wounded arm kept sending lances of fire up his shoulder, but he had hunted and fought withworse, and since it wasn‘t bleeding badly now, heknewhe could afford to ignore it until he was in a safer position.
Hekepthimself asmuch under cover ashecould, but through Hweel‘s eyeshesawthatthe boy had gotten himself under the concealment of a boulder and was in the process of stringing and readying his own bow.
Good, he thought with some satisfaction.So hesnothelpless, and hesno coward and he can thinkand plan forhimself. He isntcounting on me to come to his rescuebeyond whatIve already done.
Nevertheless, hecouldn‘t be allowed to take ashot. At themoment he was being ignored as insignificant whilethe fighters concentrated on Snowfire as the real enemy. That puny little smallgame bowdidn‘t have enough power behind it to do much damage, unless the boy got a lucky eye shot. Allthat would happen was that the two fighters still within striking distance would stop ignoring him and count him as an enemy, and there was no doubt that they would not hesitate for a moment to kill him. While he was unarmed and only trying to flee, their customs counted him a noncombatant. The moment he raised an arm against them, he was a fighter, since their own boys entered a warrior society when no older than this boy.
Snowfire got to the boy just as he stepped out of cover and prepared to fire. He reached out and grabbed the boy by the collar with his good hand and yanked him down into cover.
Again, poor lad he must feel like a kitten being mauled by now.
Quick as a thought, before the boy couldcry out, hemuffledtheboy‘smouth with hisother hand for amoment, andput hisfingerto his lips, miming amessageof silencetheway Valdemarans did. Theboy‘seyes wereas wide andround as apair of fat plums, and for amoment, as blank asmirrors with theshock of so rude an introduction. But herecovered quickly, obviously guessed at what Snowfire wanted, and nodded vigorously. Satisfied, Snowfire let him go, and he quickly got his feet and hands beneath him, and backed into hiding beside theTayledras.
:Hweel, where are they?: he silently asked his bird.
The owl showed him;the two nearest enemy were crouched under cover of a bush, at nearly the opposite side of this rocky clearing. The other two had left their horses - which pleased Snowfire and were making their way on their bellies to join the first two. None of them had bows, which pleased Snowfire even more.
They must be planning to jump on me all at once, he decided.Theonlyproblem for them is, Im not where they think I am.
He thought for a moment, measured distances in his mind, and formulated a plan.
:When we run, spook the farther horses,: hetold the owl, and motioned to the boy to stay where he was. Hetookthreearrows from theboy‘s quiver and wriggled hisway to thefirst body, where he replacedthetwoTayledras arrows withthe boy‘s.
Then he worked backward to the second body, and did the same with the last arrow.
It was a goodthingthathe‘dpicked barbless game-arrows when he blindly drew in the heat of the moment;they had broad heads, but tapered back to the shaft and were in fact meant to be easy to draw out. Barbed, man-killing arrows, on the other hand, were meant to be difficult to remove from a wound. His hunting arrows came out with very little trouble, and he insertedtheboy‘s arrows with no problem. With such optimaltargets, someone with his level of skill would have been just as lethal with thelight Valdemaran arrows ashisown.Thefactthat the boy‘s bowwasn‘t heavy enough to have given the arrows the power to penetrate as far as they did was of no significance, for the enemy had seen him and knew that he had made the shots, not the boy. He only wanted them to think that he was Valdemaran, not Tayledras.
The closer view confirmed his guess that these were northern barbarians, wearing bear-tokens, and surely smelling much worse than even the filthiest of animals. You would think that they would emulate the cleanliness of their totems - but no.
Satisfied nowthat he had removed all the traces of Tayledras activity that a likely-uneducated soldier would recognize, he carefully worked his way to within sprinting distance of the horses belongingtothetwo men he‘d killed, andtook a deep breath.
This would be their only chance of getting out of there without having to get into hand-to-hand combat with at least one of the enemy. He would have one opportunity for surprise, so his plan had better work right the first time. He made another survey of theareathrough Hweel‘seyes, waited for his moment - and sprang.
Darian had been so taken by surpriseby thestranger‘s appearancethat for amoment hehad just stared blankly at his rescuer whilethe man held one hand firmly over his mouth. The man held a finger against his own lips while staring penetratingly into Darian‘s eyes. Darian hadnever seen eyes quite so intensely blue before. Meeting their gaze was like falling into an icy pool, and it took his breath away just as surely. After a moment, Darian realized that he was miming for Darian to be quiet.
He nodded vigorously; after all, the lastthing he wanted was to draw attention to both of them! Satisfied, the man released him, and Darian got his arms and legs underneath him and scuttled his way back into deeper cover, with the stranger between him and the enemy.
The stranger had already bandaged his knife wound, which astonished Darian. But after a moment, it was obvious why hehad done so;hehadn‘t wantedto leavea blood-trail, and the binding would make his arm at least partially usable for a while.
Now what? he wondered, as the stranger mimed for him to stay where he was, and keep very still.
He nodded again to showthat he understood, and to his continued surprise, the stranger took three of hisarrows out of Darian‘s quiver, and began workinghis way, very flattothe ground and snakelike, through therocks. Hekept going untilhe cameto the body oftheman who‘dfirst grabbed Darian.
Darian couldn‘t seewhat hedid there, but a fewmomentslater, he came back into view and slithered his way to the body oftheman who‘dthrown theknife at him. NowDarian hadthe advantage of elevation, for the rocks where he was hiding were a bit taller than the Forest verge where the man had fallen from his horse, and he was able to see what the stranger did. Fortunately, those same rocks blocked the viewof the enemy across the clearing.
To his puzzlement, Darian sawhim carefully work his own arrow out of the wound that had killed the enemy, and insert Darian‘sarrowin itsplace.
Now why is he doing that?
He didn‘t have longto puzzleover the question, for as soon asthe stranger hadfinishedhisodd task, hetucked his own bloodied arrows sideways into his belt, gathered himself, and leaped like some great cat for the reins of the nearest horse.
The second horse shied and bolted, pounding off into the forest, but the stranger had the first one caught by the reins. The horse reared and danced, but the stranger held him firmly, and as soon as the beast had all four hooves on the ground, he swung himself up into the saddle before Darian could blink.
Without thinking, Darian stood up as the stranger wheeled the horse around on its hindquarters and dug his heels into its sides. It surged forward toward Darian, and the stranger leaned over its neck, stretching a hand out for him. Darian instinctively reached toward the stranger, who grabbed his arm, hand firmly around Darian‘selbow, asthey plunged past. With agrunt anda gasp of pain, the man pulled Darian over the front of his saddle, and sent the horse racing off into the deeper Forest. This was by far the least comfortable way to ride that ever existed. The saddle-bow drove into his stomach, pounding breath out of him in grunting gasps, and Darian could not see much, but he glimpsed enough between bruis-irigs to knowthat he was heading deeper into thePelagiris than he had ever dared go alone.
The boy had good instincts; he could not have reacted better if Snowfire had outlined the plan in advance for him. He stood up automatically when Snowfire leaped for the horse; Snowfire managed to get the reins in his good hand, not his bad one, so when the horse reared and tried to bolt like its mate, he was able to hold onto it. The moment the horse had all four hooves back down on the ground, Snowfire flung himself into the saddle.
Since the boy was perfectly positioned for a pickup, even to the point of having one arm extended, Snowfire dug hisheels intothehorse‘s sideand urged it into a leapingrun.The boy was close enough that the horse had not gotten any kind of speed up before it reached the lad; Snowfire leaned down fromthe saddle, seizedtheextended arm, caught the boy‘s arm at theelbow(ignoring the pain from his wounded arm) and hauled him up over the front of the saddle like a sack of meal. It was a goodthingthat the boy was so smallandthin, or Snowfire wouldn‘t have been ableto manage the feat; as it was, he felt his wound break open under the bandage and tear, and a surge of warm wetness saturated the bandage just after the searing of renewed pain.
T wo more strides, and the horse was in full gallop; meanwhile the pounding of hooves told Snowfire that Hweel had managed to spook the other two horses into panicked flight, hopefully without being seen by the distracted soldiers. That should delay pursuit nicely.
Good. By the time thosebrutesmanage to catch theirmounts, we„II belong goneand theother horses will be too lathered to follow at any kind of pace.
Nevertheless, Snowfire was not about to slacken his pace, especially not here, where the ground cover was so thin and sparsethat the horse could gallop safely through it. Snowfire guided the running horse in among the trees, allowing it to set its own speed. At the moment, it was so spooked by his appearance and his cavalier handling, that it just wanted to run, and he was disposed to let it. He simply used reins and weight to control where it was going, weaving his way in and out among the massive, columnar trunks, his main effort bent toward herding it in the direction of the stream he and Sifyra had passed on his way here. As soon as hethought they were well out of reach, he planned to slow the beast and take it into the streambed to break their trail.
Gradually, at about the moment when he was ready to slacken their pace, and he was quite certain the boy was long past ready, the horse slowed of its own will. Hweel had been trailing behind them, keeping watch on their backtrail, and had reported no followers. Now he sent the owl back to see ifthebarbarians had managed to organizethemselves. Hehopednot;hehopedthey‘d cut their losses and report to whoever was in charge of them that a huge force of Valdemaran warriors had used a child to lure them into an ambush. He rather doubted that they‘dtellthetruth, not withtwo dead and then-horses run to exhaustion and nothing to show for their efforts.
By the timethey reached the stream, the energy and excitement that had sustained him had worn off, and his wound was bleeding freely. It had soaked right through the bandage and was going to make a right messof histunic if he didn‘t do somethingabout it soon. Hweelreportedno pursuit at all - the horses were evidently not at all fond of their masters, and were nicely evading capture. The mendidn‘t have anything with them to tempt thehorses into allowingthem near enough to grabthe reins either, which was certainly a mistake on their part.
That arguedfurther for their being barbariansout ofthenorthern mountains. They weren‘t used to horsesor riding up there, and wouldn‘t havefigured out that if your horsedidn‘t like you, he wasn‘t disposedto coming back to you oncehe‘d gotten ridof you, andif that happened, your only chance of catching him was to have something the horse wanted on your person.
Thehorsehe wason didn‘t much wantto wade into theslippery streambed, but Snowfire used a little Mindtouch to persuade it, muttering to it absently, reminding it with images and feelings how good the cool water would feel on its hot legs. Finally, it stepped gingerly down into the water, and Snowfire allowed it to pick its way carefully among the rocks.
Interestingly,the boy hadn‘t so much as uttered asound in allthat time, andhe didn‘t squirm or show any sign of discomfort, though he had to have been beaten raw by now. Snowfire hoped that his Valdemaran was equal to dealing with the child; he had picked it up mind-to-mind from one of the Guards at the next-to-last site his group had worked, but until he tried to talk to the boy, he wouldn‘t know if it was equal to communicating with a possibly terrified child.
Of course, if the boy allowed, he could rectify that quickly enough with another mind-magic session.That was howheknewsomeof the dialectsof thenorthern barbarians;he‘dpicked them up from a bold fellow who actually went up there to trade for furs. Snowfire had gotten a great deal of information fromthathardy soul;he‘d learned, for onething,that oncethe barbariansaccepteda person as a bona fide trader, he had near-immunity amongthem.It‘s an extension of their traditional immunity granted to tale-spinners and historysingers, Shan hadtoldhim, and laughed. But I suspect that it stems more from their greed for pretty baubles and fine fabrics than it does from any real interest in news of theoutside world. At least they‘re bright enough to knowthat ifthey kill the trader who broughtthegoods, there won‘t beany moreto followhim.
Thequestion in Snowfire‘smind was, what brought northern barbarians down into Valdemar? He hoped that there were only a few of them, and not an army. There had been trouble on the northern borders before, and that was when they knew that it was guarded by the Forest of Sorrows. If they had learned that Sorrows was no longer tenanted. . ..
Well, he would concentrate for now on the immediate problem; what to do with the boy, stopping his bleeding, and getting back safely to his base camp.
Snowfire pulled the horse to a halt after they had ridden for several furlongs through the streambed itself. By nowthe horse was cool enough that he could allow it to drink, and he really needed to rebandagethat wound before the blood loss became a serious impediment to his performance. He got them all over to the stream bank, coaxed the horse up onto solid ground, let the boy get off, then droppedoff thehorse‘s back himself.
What he reallywantedto do wasto liedown, but he wouldn‘t beableto dothat for awhile. His arm hurt like fury, and besides needing to get the bleeding stopped, he wanted to get some cool water on it to ease some of the pain. There was only so much pain -dampening he could do, after all, on limited endurance. Tayledras scouts were durable, but he had just been through a fight, and the aftermath of a fight could leave anyone feelingas ifthey‘d runthe length of thePelagirs,
He loopedthehorse‘s reinsarounda branch with his goodhand, andtiedthem off, givingthe beast just enough slack that it could get a drink and snatch at a few bites of grass. Poor thing - it looked athim with astonishment (perhapsbecausehe‘d given itthat freedom, or perhapsonly because hehadn‘t beaten it yet) andthen buriedits nose deep inthe cool water. Then heknelt beside the streambed and carefully unwrapped the bandage from around his upper arm.
He let the wound bleed a little more while he put one end of the bandage under a rock in the sparkling clear stream, letting the swiftly-flowing, chill water wash it out for him. Then he splashed water on the wound, giving it a little rudimentary cleaning, and made certain that it wasn‘t any more serious than he had thought.
It wasn‘t;it was just avery simplepenetration wound, andnot anasty-looking one as deep wounds go. Theredidn‘t seemto be anything left in it, no signsof poisonsvisible, and as he had recalled, the knife had not seemed dirty or rusty. He reached into the water for the bandage to redo the job one-handed. It never even occurred to him to ask the boy to help.
Before he could do anything else, the boy was already at his elbow and had taken the bandage out of his hands. In amoment, he had wrung it as dry as possible and seized his arm.
Pleaseto hold still, good sir,the boy said, carefully formingthe Valdemaran words ashe looked directly into Snowfire‘seyes, as if he thought he could give the sense of what he said if he simply spoke slowly and clearly, and locked gazes with his rescuer. Then again, if he had a touch of mindmagic, that might work; Snowfirehadnot loweredhisown shields, so he couldn‘t havetold whether the boy possessed such a thing.
Yes. Surely  Snowfire said, too much taken aback to argue. Wastheboy in trainingto bea Healer? It certainly seemed as if hemight be. But if that were the case, why was he not in the pale green of a Healer-student?
Using some clean, dry moss picked from a rock beside the stream as a pad, the boy rewrapped the bandage with the deft hands of an expert, putting exactly the right kind of pressure at the proper angles on the wound to hold it closed again. When he came to the end of the bandage and looked at it for a moment in puzzlement, Snowfiretook over, and sealed the end of the bandage down again with magic.
And to his surprise, he felt the boy following what he had done with his own mind.
Oh!thelad said, sounding surprised. The next words were blurted, as if he spoke before he thought. So magic is good for something 
Then he clapped his hand over his mouth, his face, a comic mask of dismay.
The littlest magics are usuallythemost practical,Snowfire said mildly, in accented Valdemaran. Heclearedhisthroat carefully. I am Snowfirek‘Vala, Scout oftheTayledras - or as you say, Hawkbrothers. I return nowto my own people, in aplace we havemadefor ourselves.
The boy ducked his head awkwardly, but his eyes were alive with mingled curiosity and apprehension.My nameis Darian,he said simply. Darian Firkin. And - ah - thank you. I thought they were going to killme.
I do not thinkthat whatthey had in mind for you wouldhave been pleasant, Snowfire said carefully, unsure of howmuch or little to tellthe lad. He might well be much older than he looked; he had very old eyes for such a young face, and the face itself was a mask of politeness behind which something elsewas hidden. Haveyouany place you need to go, or a place of safety that I may take youto?Or would you careto come with meto asafehaven?
The boy held his breath, and slowly the polite mask shattered and fell. He crumpled, sobbing, apparently completely overcome by sudden, overwhelming grief.
Snowfire did not need to be an Empath to read that there was something dreadfully wrong, something triggered by mention of safety, or a safe place to go. He decided on his own that the best place for both of them was back with his little band. Whatever had gone wrong had evidently been horrible, terrifying; it likely had a great deal to do with those barbarians, and was probably something that he and his people urgently needed to know about.
But there was a more immediate need: to soothet he child enough so that he could ride without falling apart. The sooner he got back to camp, the better.
Snowfire had never had a little brother, but he had played the role of confidante and helper atime or two in the past, to warriors, mages, and youngerscouts. Hush, now,hesoothed, puttinghis good, though leather layered, arm aboutthe boy‘sshoulder - close enough to give emotional support, not so closeasto be intrusive. Heknewbeforethe boy did, by the imperceptibletensingof the lad‘s muscles, when he was coming tooclose, and backedoff abit. Here, you may come with me, and we will go to my people. I promise, you will be quite safe enough with us. Eh? Then, when you are rested, you will talk to us, tell us what happened. Perhaps we can help. Even if we cannot, we will see to it that you are safe. Warm and safe and wellfed.
The boy only nodded, and Snowfiremounted, lending the boy a hand so that he could swing up to sit behind the saddle instead of being carried like so much baggage. The boy must have ridden this way before;heput hisfoot carefully ontop of Snowfire‘s,trustedhis weight to Snowfire‘sarm, and got himself up behind the Tayledras with a minimum of awkwardness. And there he sat, his arms around Snowfire‘s waist to holdhim in place. His sobshad ended, but asheheldtightly to Snowfire‘s waist, the Tayledras felt him shivering, and not with cold, but with suppressed emotion and shock. He was very near a breaking point, and Snowfire wanted him to be safely in the hands of someone who could deal with his trauma before he came to that breaking point.
Nightwind was an Empath as well as atrondiirn, and she would be the best person for the child at this moment.
Snowfire clucked to the horse, which lengthened its stride readily into a slow canter. Evidently it already preferred Snowfire over its previous masters.
It seemed as if this was something more serious than a single boy and a few sadistic barbarians. Perhapsthis situation was more than his little group could deal with; after all, they already had quite a bit on their plate.
After the danger from the mage-storms had ended, magic had been shattered like a broken crystal; the matrixed pattern of ley-lines and nodes was gone as if it had never been, and the energies that had once flowed in them were spread evenly across the face of the land. This had left the more powerful mages at something of a loss, but the Tayledras already had a plan in place to deal with such a contingency. They were a long-sighted and patient people when it came to making and fulfilling plans. They would move with urgency when speed was called for, or could wait for generations to lay something in place.
Magic flowed, like water, and like water it would not remain spread out over the land for long. If left to itself, it would form its own rivers and pools - or ley-lines and nodes - or it could be guided into pathsthat could be carved for it. The sooner those paths were established, the sooner it could be persuaded to followthose paths, and would flow as it had before - and the less likely it would be that stagnant pools would form, warping creatures and plants as had happened before, in the Pelagirs, after the Mage Wars were ended. There were many moreTayledras nowthan there had been then, with a great deal more experience, and now that there was no geas laid upon them by the Star-Eyed to cleanse the land, they were freeto go out into it and rectify the situation before it became necessary to do those cleansings.
More to the point, since no creature ever acts against its own best interest (even though they may act in enlightened self-interest) if it was the Tayledras mages who reestablished the ley-lines and nodes in a matrix, they would be able to arrange and key them so that it did themselves and their allies the most good. But, conversely, if they left an area unmanaged, it would be altogether likely for other mages to come in and arrange things to their liking.
This was the reason for the groups of Tayledras traveling about now, dealing with Changebeasts, working to link the local magics up with the greater systems already established. The Crown of Valdemar had not only given its blessing to the massive venture, but had funded their needs and ordered support to be given by Guard, Herald, and citizen, with free passage papers and more. That the now-legendary T ayledras Adept Darkwind had the ear of the Queen in the matter had not hurt a bit. Altruistically, the Hawkbrothers and their chosen allies were able to rid t he land of some very unpleasant creatures. Realistically, they were creating a matrix that better supported their own Heartstones than even the original had. In the future, it would assure them of more than adequate power for virtually anything they wished to do.
Could it be that some other, rival mages had decided on the same plan?
Of course it could, he told himself.In this case, it wouldnt takean Adept to seewhat the advantage in it would be. It would only take a perceptive Master, in fact, or someon e very educated in the nature of types of magical energy and its tendencies, to plan out a local scale version of - gahhh. Snowfire, you need help, your mind is wandering. Deal with the situation in the here and now, and discuss the implications of your speculations over a good meal by the fire later on.
Well, the best thing he could do now would be to get the boy to a place where he could feel safe. Perhaps after some food and calming, this young Darian could bring himself to reveal what had happened. Surely in Nightwind‘shandsthat would not belong in coming.
Whatever it was, Snowfire was certain, there was going to be a great deal moreto it than appeared on the surface.
Snowfire was so deep in hisown thoughtsthat it startledhim when the boy spoke. Who are you?What areyou doinghere? camethemuffled voice from behind hisback.
He considered the language carefully before he replied. He did not want to answer the wrong question and givethe boythe impression that he was being uncooperative.Myself, specifically?he asked. Or my people?There aremoreof ushere, not far from here, as Itoldyou.
Your people, Darian answered, and Snowfire felt himtakeonehandoff of Snowfire‘s waist; he sniffed, and Snowfire fished in a pouch at his belt to give the lad a bit of unused bandage to wipe hisnosewith. Th-thank you,the boy said carefully.
Interesting that his own thoughts had just been on that very subject, of why the Tayledras were here.
Weare avery specialgroup ofTayledras - your people call us Hawkbrothers, usually - and we are here for a number of reasons which all mesh together. What know you of the magestorms?he asked. I askthis, because it is relevant to why we arehere.
He felt the boy shrug. Not much,Darian admitted. They upset the weather a bunch, made things bad aroundhere, turnedmonsters loose. I guessthey madeit hard for magesto work.
Snowfire thought for a moment, and decided that the most complete, if abbreviated, explanation would certainly not be amiss, and would fill up the time untilthemoment they arrived at the camp. And besides, it might help keep hismindoff howhis arm hurt. I will go back to the very beginning, then - to the cause of it all. Once, so many hundreds of years ago that most of that time is lost even as a legend, there were many of what we know as the Great Mages. These were Adepts so powerful that they had the ability to actually create new creatures that had never existed before, to changethe weather, or to makethe rocks run like water.
Wasthat wherethemonsterscamefrom?Darian asked, as Snowfirepaused.
Someofthem createdcreaturesthat you would taketo bemonsters, I am sure,Snowfiretold him, craninghisheadaroundto smileat the boy with encouragement. But I think that the monsters you speak of were all created later - and I am coming to that. One of these Great Mages was very evil, and he made war on the rest. In the end, there was only one left to oppose him. That one invented a kind of weapon that was so terrible that he swore he would only use it if he himself were dying. He made two of these - and when thetime camethat he was, indeed, dying, killed by a slow poison delivered by an assassin loyal to the evil mage, he sent one into the hands of the evil mage himself, andtriggeredtheother in hisown place.
Why?Darian asked. Snowfire suppressed a smileat that oldest of childrens‘ questions.
Because,he saidpatiently, the way thatthis weapon worked wasto release all of the magic contained within everyobject within acertain area. It released allof themagicinthegoodmage‘s Tower, at thesametimeastheother released allof themagicinthe evilmage‘s stronghold. Now, think for a moment about how powerful these two men were, and think how much m agic must have been released. Why, in the case of the good mage, his very Tower had been built with and relied upon thousands of magic devices. Then think what must have been contained inthatTower, andaround it.
The boy pondered that for a moment, thenshuddered convulsively.That - must have been big. And awful,he said, in a subdued voice. Worsethan aforest fire.
Much worse, Snowfireassured him.Wherethe goodmageoncelived is nowthe Dhorisha Plains; wherethe evil one lived is now Lake Evendim; since both those places were strongholds among hills, that should give you an idea how dreadful it was. I assure you, nothing that was caught inside where the bounds of thePlains and the Lake are now survived. That Cataclysm completely reshaped the world, it was so powerful. And the effects of two of the weapons being triggered simultaneously were worse and more complicated than the good mage had ever dreamed possible. Having two of them go off created theirs? mage-storms, and those, in their turn, created the Pelagir Hills andthePelagiris Forest.
Huh.Theboy digestedthat. I thought they - just were. I thought the Forest had always been likethat.
They werecreated by thecataclysm andthemage-stormsthat followed, Snowfirereplied. And it was longer ago than I think you would dream possible, and the Pelagirs extended far out beyond what is now Valdemar. Now, the Tayledras were given a duty, and that was to set things to rights in the Pelagirs, and in return were given the secrets of how to control and confine very powerful magic. And the odd thing isthat we were very nearly done with that task, when the mage storms returned, and they returned because not only did they reshapethe world, they made an echo of themselves back across time, exactly like the waves of a stone tossed into a quiet pool will reach the shore andreflect back again.Hepaused. Do you seewhat I am saying?
Thousands of years of history compressed into a few sentences, but if he is really interested, there are plenty who will teach him the tale in its fullest.
Not really, altogether,Darian admitted honestly, but enough so I thinkI‘m followingthestory right. So the mage-storms we had were the . . . echoes of the ancient ones? That would be why they made monsters likethefirst onesdid?
Exactly,Snowfiresaid with encouragement in hisvoice, thinking ashe did so, thatthis was a good thing to betalking of, for it gavethe boy something to engross his mind. Snowfire had a growing suspicion that the barbarians had attacked his home, and that he was the only oneto escape, if not indeed the only one to survive. He would figurethat out as soon as he had time to think about the attack at all, and he would need to grieve eventually, but it would be better if he did so in a safe place.
For now, I will keep his mind on the strange Hawkbrother, so that he does not think too much about what has happened to him. I cannot afford to cope with a hysterical child right now.
ThenewStormswere bad in effect, but worse in potential,he continued.Andthey were building up to a second Cataclysm, because they were a reflection of the originals, which was why they grew stronger instead of weaker. We are not precisely certain what that new Cataclysm would have done, but several folk determinedto prevent it, and succeeded.
That would be Herald-MageElspeth, Adept Darkwind, andAdept Firesong, right?theboy asked, as if he had suddenly made a connection for himself.
Yes! Yes, and someothersas well. Not all of them human, or even by common standards, alive, he thought with a little amusement. But he can learn that for himself later. No point in piling strangeness upon strangeness. I am impressed, that he would know those names.I must continueto shorten the story a great deal more, but if you wish to know all of it, you have only to ask. I will say only now that they did prevent it, they did stop the Storms and have made it so that they will not reecho at some later time, and that the result of this was to change all themagic as weknewit.
They brokeit, didn‘t they?the boy responded, surprising him.They brokemagiclike breaking aplate, so it shattered into pieces.
In a sense. Hetriedtothink of another water analogy. If youcould imaginemagic asallthe streams, and rivers, and lakes in the world, and suddenly all the water has been sucked out of them, and has rained down evenly everywhere. You could walk on what used to bethe bottom of a lakethat would have drowned you, just after it happens, or you can divert the rainwater to a new place you want filled, but the rain continues to fall. That is what has happened, and that is one of the two things that brings us here at this time. We are cutting newrivers, if you will, and making new lakes. And we areonceagain puttingthingsto rights, gettingrid of the Changebeaststhat theStorms created.
And when you‘re done - magic will be where you want it to be, and work the way you want it to, won‘t it?the boy asked shrewdly. That‘s whatyou get out of it. Your special magic will work again.
Such an unexpectedly clever observation startleda laugh out of Snowfire. I must admit,he replied, with reluctant admiration,youarequitecorrect. Not that this isa secret, you understand. And not that this means that no other mages will be able to use their powers. Things will simply work the way that everyone was used to them working, and everyone who has the ability will be able to use them asof old. Except, somepeopletheorize, moreefficiently.
The horse had slowed to a brisk walk, but Snowfire could tellthat it was tired, and its pace was quick enough to suit him. He let it set its own speed without correcting it, poor thing. It was probably used to being ridden to within a breath of foundering, and a little decent treatment would work wonders with it.
So why are you doing this theHawkbrothers, I mean,Darian asked. Couldn‘t anybody do this - like the HeraldMages or the Fireflower mages or something?
They could, Snowfire admitted. And in some places, they probably are. We are doing it here because we knowhow, because there are very few Herald-Mages and even fewer who are at all powerful enough to do thesethings, and because there are also Changebeasts and other Changes in these same areas that need attending to. So we are paid by you, our allies of Valdemar, to do work that we are used to doing, and we are serving our own purposes at the same time. We, in our turn, are getting much-needed goods and foodstuffs for our people for ourpayment, so we are well content.
No point in explaining too much more. That there were still Vales was something of a miracle, and was due entirely to the superhuman efforts of T ayledras mages to shield their Heartstones during those final Storms. But without the ley-linesto feed the Heartstones, there was much less power coming in than going out, and theT ayledras back in the Vales were having to be very conservative, even frugal, about what they did and did not do with the power contained in the Stones.
That was themain reason why these parties had been sent out;to make certain that as many of theoldley-lines as possible were reestablished andto seeto it that anadequateamountof power was sent back to the Stones. That was the request of the First Council of Elders - that it be adequate. Just whatadequatemeant was being left up to the discretion of theAdepts leadingeach team.
Itmeans, “dontbe selfish,”I suppose. And if therereallyaren„tthatmanymagesin thearea who would need nodeenergy, then whats thepointofallowing it to poolin nodes for Adepts who dontexist?
I suppose abad magecould divert a lot of that power away for himself right now, couldn‘t he? the boy asked aloud. Likea selfish farmer damming a stream so that only he can usethe water for his crops.
I must say, Darian I am impressed. You arevery perceptive. Yes.That‘sanother reason why we arehere,Snowfire conceded. If we establish the ley-lines - the rivers - we can make sure that it will be available to anyone who needs to use it. But if a selfish or bad mage got to a place first, he could lock allthat power away for alltime. So wearen‘t just workingfor our own sake.He chuckled gently. After all, eventually there will bemages in Valdemar who will need to use that power, and they would be rightfully annoyed if we had arrangedthings sothat they could not get at it.
I sposethey would,theboy acknowledged. Wouldthings have gonebacktothe waythey had been if you left them alone?
That, we don‘t know, Snowfireadmitted.
But they wentthat waythe first time, so why wouldn‘t they go back?Darian persisted.I mean, it‘s really hard to change the course of a river; I heard of people who tried, and each time it went right back the way it had been, in itsold bed. So, wouldn‘t things bethe same if you leftthem alone?
Even if they would, therearestillthe Changebeaststhat need dealing with, Snowfirereminded him. Andtheonethingthat still couldhappen if we don‘t interfere isthat a bad mage could lock the power away from everyoneelse. We can‘t leavethat to chance.
I sposenot.Darian sighed, and didn‘t ask any morequestions.
Snowfire made a note to tell Adept Starfall what the boy had said about it being difficult to change the natural course of a river, and howthat might apply to the ley -lines. It was something he doubted that the Adept had wanted to consider deeply, and it could spelltrouble at some point in the future.
:Any problems?: he asked Hweel, who was still wafting along in their wake, branch to branch every thirty or so horse-lengths, keeping a wary eye on things behind them.
:All quiet,: the bird replied. :Hungry.:
He considered how far they were from the clearing, how many times he had undertaken to break the trail, and how long it might take the barbariansto catch their horses. He concluded it was safe enough for Hweel to take the timeto go catch something.
:Hunt,: he suggested to the bondbird, who needed no second invitation. Hweel had heard the call of a covey of quail some little distance back, and was eager to see what he could do about helping to control the population.
Owls often seemed more purposeful about their hunting than hawks, or more especially, the falcons. It was no great amount of time later that Snowfire sensed the burst of visceral bloodlust that meant Hweel had gone in for a kill, followed swiftly by triumph and accomplishment. A little longer, and Hweel was back in the air and catching up, now with a full stomach, radiating satisf action. For a bird Hweel‘s size, asingle quail was areasonablemeal, but not afull day‘sration;theowl would probably go out again at night to hunt if Snowfire didn‘t providehim with something.
The horse was not nearly as swift as a dyheli, especially not with a double burden, and the light coming through thetrees had taken on a distinctly red hue when Snowfire reached the outskirts of the encampment. He whistled the recognition call for the outermost sentry, and a moment later, spotted the flash of a suntail hawkeagle‘screamy breast in the branches abovehim.Threeofthe scoutswere bonded to suntails, so it could have been any one of thethree who were standing watch, but he thought it was Eere, Skyshadow‘s second-year bird.
:Go in ahead,: he told Hweel, wearily glad that it was a suntail and not one of the forestgyres, who were fond of teasing the big owl. Not that they would ever harm Hweel, nor would Hweel ever retaliate with anything morethan an irritated beak snap, but Hweel was a ponderously serious bird in many ways, and being teased put him in a bad mood. Just at the moment, having his bondbird grumbling and hunched in atree was a situation Snowfire didn‘t want to be forcedto endureon top of his other pains.
His arm hurt more and more asthey rode, and given a choice, he wanted most to see Nightwind and have it tended to, then drink his weight in pain-killing tea and sleep for about a day. The last of his energy ran out shortly before they reached camp. Fortunately, the boy had been cooperative and quiet during most of that time, and his questions and conversation had been polite and subdued the rest of thetime. Perhaps he had sensed that Snowfire was not feeling up to conversation.
The horse took them through some truly spectacular territory, and he wished vaguely that he was feeling good enough to appreciate it. Ancient trees with trunksthe size of entire houses stretched toward the sky, their roots firmly embedded in the sides of steep, boulder-strewn hills; rocks thrust themselves out of the soil in fantastic and baroque formations. T iny, threadlike streams sparkled and danced over rocks in the valleys, or threwthemselves headlong down the rocky cliffs and hillsides in exuberant waterfallsthat were more spray than stream. Anywhere that the dense foliage overhead allowed a ray of sunlight to penetrate to the ground, other plants flourished - a patch of luxuriant grass studded with flowers, a gnarled bush with glossy leaves, or a graceful young scion of one of the giants that loomed overhead. This was the season of birdsong, and their calls fluted through the shadows from every direction. A fresh, warm breeze carried the faint scent of forest flowers and evergreen on its wings. The only problem, so far as Snowfire was concerned, was that his throbbing arm got in the way of being able to enjoy his surroundings. At the moment, they were something to be endured rather than enjoyed, until landmarks would tell him that he was nearing the camp.
Finally, with grateful relief, he saw just the landmarks he was looking for, and soon he was riding down a long rift that would open up into the valley that his group had turned into as near a Vale as was possible for so temporary an encampment. Nature had provided a fine little valley with tiny springs trickling out of the hillside at the back, which the current dwellers had diverted into a series of three pools; what nature had not provided, theT ayledras had fashioned, constructing temporary, ground-built ekeles with stone, spools of cord, windfallen treetrunks, carefully tended vines, and the canvas of their tents as roofs. When Adept Starfall found this place to be nearly ideal for his purposes, a bit of extra work made the camp into a place of more comfort and more security than mere tents would have permitted. It made more sense that way; with strong, secure walls about them and a few creature comforts, they all rested better, had more privacy, and felt healthier and happier for both, which allowed them to do their work without missing the comforts of the Vale too much. The spring-fed pools gavethem one for drinking water, one for washing, and one that could be heated with dozens of fire-warmed stones (or, for those with the Gift, with magic) for soaking weary bodies. They would be here for as long as it took Starfall to impose his will on the newly forming magic-matrices, and for as long as it took to find and deal with any Changebeasts that were still in the area - probably into fall.
Snowfire was very glad for those creature comforts waiting for h im, especially the hot pool. He certainly felt that he had earned them.
A fellow called Sunleaf, who was bonded to a forestgyre, had an interesting sort of magic with plants that allowed him to bend them to his purposes and accelerate their growth in a way that was quite remarkable. Outside the encampment, he had coaxed bushes and vines into a thickness and luxuriance that hid the camp from sight, and within it, he had made vines grow in screensthat divided the area up and gave a remarkable amount of privacy, and got vines to growover each ekele, shrouding them in cool green that hid the structures beneath an avalanche of leaves. It looked, in fact, as if they had moved into a placethat had been abandoned to the forest for decades, instead of one that they had just built.
Snowfire sensedthe boy‘s interest asthey rodeinto thevalley andtowardthe littlewelcoming party of three that awaited them. It was a smallwelcomingparty, and Snowfireblessedthe Adept‘s good sense, as it was composed of only Tayledras who would not alarm the boy - the Adept himself, the gentletrondiim Nightwind, and the youngest of the scouts, Wintersky, who was something of a protegeof Snowfire‘s, and sharedhis ekele. Of course, Wintersky mostly had the ekele to himself, since Snowfire spent a great deal of time with Nightwind. None of thethree could possibly frighten the boy, who‘dhad enough fright for one day,though Starfall lookedvery imposing, and probably more likethe boy had imagined a Tayledras to look than Snowfire did. Wintersky wore the same scouting-garb that Snowfire did, but Nightwind and Starfall showed the other faces of T ayledras life in their dress. Starfall wore thetrailing robes, jewelry, and embroideries of someone who does not expect to be covering a great deal of territory in wild forest, and Nightwind the comfortable, colorful, loose garments of someone who does expect to be doing a great deal of physical and practical labor, but who doesnot haveto worry about fading intothe landscape. Starfall‘s waist-length hair hung loose, with aminimum of ornaments braided into it, Wintersky‘shair was dyed in leaf patterns and confined in asingletail, andNightwind‘s was still dark, for shepracticed littlemagicandhadnever lived in a Vale with a Heartstoneto bleach her hair. She was, in fact, not k‘Valaat all, but k‘Leshya, theLost Clanofthe ancient days, come up out ofthe farthest West.
But at the moment, all Snowfire could think of was how glad he was to see them all. He slid down off the horse and found his legs unexpectedly wobbly; he managed to save himself from embarrassment by holding for a moment to the pommel of the saddle, and offered the boy his good hand as an aid to get down.
Darian smiled at him wanly. You don‘t look so good,he said, with that blunt frankness of a child who hasn‘t yet figuredoutthat one doesn‘t alwayshaveto voice what oneobserves. I can manageto get down myself.
Andhe did, but his legs werejust as wobbly asSnowfire‘s when heslid off thehorse‘sramp and landed on the ground - though in his case, it was probably from a mixture of fatigue and unaccustomed riding than from pain.
Thisis Darian k‘Valdemar, Snowfiretoldtheothers, in Valdemaran. He‘s never seen Tayledras before, and he knows nothing of us. Darian, this is Adept Starfall, who is our Elder and the leader of this group. This istrondiim Nightwind, who is going to patch up the tears in your hide as she does for the rest of us who have themisfortuneto ranthrough brambles.
Darian rubbed some of his scratches with a bit of self-conscious embarrassment, even though some of them were deep and he had many braises as well.
Andthis isWintersky  Helooked askanceat theyounger man, who grinned at Darian and finished the sentence.
Wintersky, who will sharehis quarters with youand Snowfire, unless youpreferto camp alone in atent, or have us make someother arrangements.Theyoungman winked. I pledgeyouI do not snore. My Valdemaran isthebest of allof us savethemighty hunter Snowfire, so I thought I‘d volunteer our ekele.It‘s always betterto havepeople about who knowyourtonguefairly well. Snowfire doessnore,though.
Darian was clearly getting overwhelmed; his eyes looked a trifle glazed, his face was pale, and his expression bewildered. I don‘t mind, I mean,that would be good - whatever you like 
Whatever it isthat I like is that you are to come and be tended, and be eating and drinking, and be then sleeping,Nightwind saidfirmly, takingthe boy in chargewith maternal authority. Theboy yielded to her with relief and gratitude, and she ushered him off.
I‘llreport in brief, andthen I need to be tended, eating, drinking, andthen sleeping after you‘ve gottenthe fullreport, Snowfiretoldthe Adept, asWintersky took thehorse and led it away to be watched by the dyheliherd.Hweel sawthe boy beingchased by northern barbarians. Bearclan would be my guess,but they wereall wearing identical armor, andI don‘t much care for what that implies.
Neither do I,Starfallsaid, his brows furrowing.
Their tattoos wouldhavetoldmemore, butthings wererather impoliteat thetime, andI didn‘t stay around to request aviewing fromthoseremaining. Snowfirenoted Starfall‘s lipstwitch ashe tried not to smile at the understated and offhand manner Snowfire was taking with the tale.
Howimpolite? Starfall asked.
Only two casualties. Not even aminor quarrelby Bearclan standards. Hardly more than an ordinary drunken brawlthough I didmake sureto substitutethe boy‘s arrows for mine;I didn‘t want to alert them to our presence. Still - one of them had caught the boy by the time I got there, and he and his colleagues were exchanging pleasantries that implied they had been . . . improving some Valdemaran settlements. He droppedhistoneof levity. I think thatthe boy belongedtothe latest one, though I have not yet questioned him at all. I wished an Empath to bepresent when I did.
Starfall lost alltraceof humor atthat. So, youhave barbarians in identical armor, what amounts to something more serious than a little banditry, and all this a good bit farther south than we should expect to see mountain tribes. I shall check my maps, but. . . .Starfallshook hishead. I do not like this, Snowfire.
Neither do I, sincethe barbarians don‘t move in groups larger than adozen without having a shamanmage along with them.Snowfirehad been letting what heknew about the northern tribes dig itself out of his memories during the last part of the journey; he was better at recollection when he allowedthememoriesto surfaceon their own. Andthey don‘t usehorsesas arule, yet allof the barbarians I saw weremounted.
Thisisn‘t soundingvery promising. Starfall bit his lip for amoment. Well, thebest thingthat I can do isto movetheprogressI wasmakingon ahead. It won‘ttakemorethan a day or so, and I‘ll have the matrices set up and completely in my control;I‘d liketo seethemagethat can get it out of my handsthen.”
I wouldn‘t, Snowfirereplied.But iftherewas someoneableto do that, he‘dhavechallenged youalready, so theworst we‘llhaveto dealwith is someoneyour equal. Ithink we can do that.
AndI think you‘d better have someone look at that arm whileyou get somehot food inside you, Starfallpointedout. Your stoicism is respected, but not required. Go, you can makeamore detailed report after you‘ve rested and gotten properly patched up - and by then, the boy will be rested, too, and we can find out why barbarianson horses werechasinghim.
Nowthat his initial report had been made, he had the relief of the discharge of duty, and a great weariness descended on him. He decided that the best place for him was in his shared ekele. Fortunately, it was one of the nearer structures; he rounded two vine screens, and there it was, looking like nothing so much as a leafy hummock. He parted the vines with his good hand, and found that Nightwind had already preceded him there.
He had taken weather-felled limbs and constructed a fine log home, octagonal in shape, with a roof of sod held up by logs and willow withes woven into fine mats. The snug dwelling would probably serve as well in winter as in summer, except that he would have to fill in the bottom rank with sod; he had left off the bottom rank of logs on four of the eight sides so as to allowthe movement of air through the place. A cool breeze came in at the level of the floor and went out at the smoke hole in the middle. It had been a great deal of extra work to make this ekele, but he reckoned it had been worth the work. A lantern with a mage-light in it hung from one of the ceiling logs. His sleeping placeand Hweel‘sperch were on thefar right asonecame in thedoor, andWintersky‘s sleeping pad andTiec‘sperch wereon theleft. That left acookingplace in themiddle, andany gear they shared near the door. Now there was athird sleeping place at the rear, with the boy sitting sleepily on it and Nightwind beside him.
Snowfire sawat oncethat someonehad left ayoung rabbit on Hweel‘sperch, which meant Hweel would not have to hunt tonight. Pleased by the courtesy, he slipped back out before Nightwind noticed he was there and called Hweel to the fist.
The owl dropped down on his arm with customary aplomb, and ducked his head as Snowfire brought him in. Thistime, the boy, who did not seem to be noticing much, reacted very strongly and positively to Hweel.
His mouth formed a silent Oh! andhis eyes went round, but there wasno sign of fear in him. Nightwind noticedthe lad‘sreaction, and smiled over her shoulder at Snowfire.
Snowfire took that as an invitation to come closer. Darian stared at the huge owl with intense interest. Isthat your bird?he whispered, as if he was afraidthat hemight startletheowl. I heard Hawkbrothershad birds, but I didn‘t knowthey werethat big!He‘s-he‘samazing!
Snowfire flushed a little with pleasure; he was not proud of much, but he did take a certain pleasurein having so magnificent apartner asHweel. Yes, he is, isn‘t he?heagreed. His name is Hweel, and he was watching out for us, flying behind us in the trees, all the way back. Would you liketo touch him?
Can I?He won‘t mind?Darian looked quiteas if Snowfirehad given him permissionto shake theQueen of Valdemar‘s hand.
Hweel is excessively vain, andextremely fond of scratches, and if you are goingto offer him plenty of admiration and caressing, he will be your friend for life,Night-wind said with mock severity.
Hweel clackedhis beak at her, then softenedtherebukewith the softhuuur an adult would give a nestling.
Go ahead,Snowfireurged.
Darian reachedhesitantly to touch Hweel‘s breast-feathers, but the owl had other ideas. Quick as thought, he leaned down and butted his head against the outstretched hand, and before he knew it, Darian was scratchingthetop of theowl‘s round, densely-feathered head.
He‘s so soft!theboy exclaimed with delight.
Don‘t be afraidto givehim agood scratching,Snowfiretold him, asHweel stepped down off the gauntlet to thefloor, andmadehisodd littlesideways sidle uptothe boy.You‘llhaveto work to get through allthefeatherson hishead.
The owl closed his huge eyes in bliss as Darian scratched with more vigor, and shoved his head practically into Darian‘schest. Snowfirewas delighted, both with the boy‘s reaction and with Hweel‘s, and for thefirst timehe entertainedthethought that if the boy had nowhere else to go, he might wishto join k‘Vala.
Well, it is enough for now that he is not terrified of the bondbirds, and that the bondbirds take to him. Either would be amazing enough, but having both is wonderful. We can worry about what is to become of him when we have a better idea of what he has involved us in.
Nightwind allowed the boy sometime to caress Hweel, and before either of them tired of the sport, she Mindspoketo the bird, :Enough. He will still be here in the morning, and so will you. Right now, he needs to sleep.:
As Hweelheaved agreat sigh of regret, shesaid virtually the samethingto the boy. Sleep, it is timefor;you and Hweel will behere both when sun rises.
Reluctantly, the owl raised his head and the boy took his hand away, but before he could take it entirely out of range, theowl reached out with hispowerful beak and gently nibbled Darian‘s fingertips.
That isahigh compliment, Snowfiretoldhim, asthe boy glancedat theTayledrasfor an explanation. He doesn‘t offerthat particular sort of thank you‘ to just anyone.
Darian looked dazzled, and as Hweelwaddled towardhisperch with an owl‘s awkwardand ungainly ground gait, Snowfire got one of the larger bodyfeathers, about thesizeof the boy‘s hand, from a little basket he had woven of pine needles and tacked to the logs on his side to hold molted feathers. He lifted Hweel up to the perch given theowl‘shuge wingspan, hepreferredthat Hweel not use his wings inside the ekele - then gave the feather to Darian. The boy took it with shy thanks, and occupied himself with stroking and examining it.
That was neatly done,Nightwind complimentedhim. I washavingtrouble gettinghimto relax enough for the drug I gave him in his tea to work. I want him to be drowsy when you and Starfall question him.
Thank Hweel for cooperating so nicely, Snowfirereplied, as shepushedhim over to hisown sleeping pad and began unwrapping the bandage on his arm.
I already have,camethe calm reply, andthen Snowfireendureda fewbad moments as she examined the wound and gave it athorough cleansing. Once it was clean, however, she was quick to put a numbing salve on it, so that when she stitched it up for him, he scarcely felt the prick of the needle. The boy watched them intently, but with a detachment that Snowfire thought was probably thanks to the drug.
I am very concerned by the little I have sensed from this boy, Nightwindtold him.Heis quite traumatized, and on the whole, I am concerned about what will happen to him when he allows himself to feelthe emotionshe isholding inside.
I gotthe impressionthathe doesn‘t showhalf of what he isfeeling, Snowfireconfirmed, as Starfall tapped the doorframe lightly, then entered.
Hekeepsthings to himself, I think, shetold Snowfire. His griefs aremany, andnot all concerned with whatever led him to us; once he allows one to be free, the others may come flying out. That will be good for him, but it will be ahardtime aswell. Shelookedtroubled. I cannottell you if your questions willtriggerthisrelease. They may, orthey may not.
Whether they do or not, we needto knowwhy Snowfire foundhim in thepredicament that he was in, Starfallpointed out.Andthe sooner weknow, the better.
Darian, nowthat you haveeaten andrested, we would likeyouto tellus what happenedto you, Snowfire said in his best Valdemaran.
Theboy nodded;he looked awake, but not entirely alert.Thosemen that were chasingme there werefighters likethemthat attacked Errold‘s Grove,hesaid plaintively.I guessthemilitia wentto stop them, but they probably didn‘t havea chance.
Howmany men? Starfall asked quickly.What werethey like?
It wasn‘t just men, it was somekindof monster, too, and I didn‘t actually count how many there were, but they were in ranks of five, and I saw ten times five ranks and I knowI didn‘t seeallof them,Darian said, growing agitated, asNightwindput a steadyinghandon his arm. Therewere just a lot - an awful lot. I was out in the woods, getting some tree-fungus that Juh - that we needed, and I saw smoke and fire and came running back. When I got there, everybody was running away, and this whole army was on the road to the bridge. They had lots of armor, and all kinds of pikes and swords and things, and not all of them were men, they were kind of half bear and half man! And there was another thing, amonster or ademon or something,that wasn‘t anything like aman at all, and it was leading them - it was riding on this big lizard. J  A spasm of pain swept over theboy‘sface, and Snowfiremadeamentalnoteto findout who or what began with Jthat theboy avoidedtalking about so carefully. That might bethe key to releasing some of that pent up grief.Thebridge got destroyed set afireto keep them off, but they cameacrosstheriver anyway. That‘s when I ran, andI got away from the first lot, but those others were deeper in the forest and came after me when they sawme.
Starfall and Snowfire exchanged looks. This did not sound very good.
Didtheothersof your villageget away from thisarmy? Snowfireasked.Didthey have somewhereto go for help?
Theboy frowned for amoment, then shrugged. I didn‘t see anybody get caught,hesaid finally. AndI guessthey must haverun to Kelmskeep. Lord Breon has got a whole garrison of his own, and Kelmskeep‘sfortified, they say. Hehas messengers andthingshecould send forthe Guard, sothat‘s probably whereeverybody went.
Now, what about themen who chasedyou?Snowfire asked. Howdid that happen?
Theboy winced with chagrin.I ran into them,he admitted. I didn‘t thinktherewas any way they could havegot aheadof me, and I ran into them, causeI wasn‘t looking for anyone.They came after me, and I headed for that clearingcausethere‘s places in thereI could‘vehid, andthey couldn‘t have brought their horsesoverthose looserocks. But oneof them caughtme, andthat‘s whereyou showed up, andthat‘sall.
That will do;I‘llhavetheothers gather, and wecan discuss this when you areready, Starfall said, as he got to his feet and headed for the door of the ekele.
I‘llbethereas soon asthe boy is asleep, Snowfirepromised, andturnedhis attention back to Darian.
Hweel won‘t haveto hunt for himself tonight, so even though Wintersky and I will be gone for a little, Hweel will be with you, Snowfiretoldhim, then askedtheonequestionthat was still puzzling him.Darian, did you really intendto go afterthosetwo barbarians with your rabbit-bow?
I hadto,Darian replied sleepily. I knewyou werehurt, and I didn‘t think you‘d seen them. I knewI couldn‘t do much unless I got alucky shot, but maybe I‘d distractthem, and for surethey‘d make anoise, so you would knowthatthey werethere.
Well, that was goodplanning,Snowfiretold him, and was rewarded with a sleepy smilethat faded into drugged slumber. He waited untilhewas certain that Darian‘s sleep wastoo deepto be easily broken, then got up to go outside, leaving Hweel to keep a vigilant eye on the boy.
:Watch and guard,: hetold the bondbird, keeping things simple. People had been known to have odd reactions to drugs, and children in particular were proneto sleepwalking after a severe trauma. Snowfire was not in the least deceivedbythe boy‘s apparent calm; Nightwind saidthat there was great emotion ready to burst out at any moment, and he believed her. :Find me if something happens.:
Hweel roused his feathers and huured his agreement. Nowthat he was full of rabbit, he was quite content to stay in one place with a foot tucked up beneath his breast-feathers.
Snowfire joined the rest of the group around the small fire that Nightwind kept feeding with herbs to keep the insects away. He accepted a mug of cool water from the spring from Wintersky with a nod of thanks, and took his place in the council session that had formed.
I‘vetoldtheothers what theboy told us, Starfall explained, asfirelight flickered and cast odd shadows on hisface. Andthevery first question I canthink of is whether we should involve ourselves at all.
I don‘tthink we can, to tellyouthetruth,repliedWintersky regretfully. I mean, this sounds like an army! And we have how many? Not quite twenty humans, twice that in the dyheli herd, a couple of hertasiand agryphon.We aren‘t exactly equippedto befighting battleseither.
The fire popped and hissed, blending with the sound of movement of something large, like the sussuration of canvas across canvas.
I would sssay that onegrrryphon isss worrrth an arrrmy, but I rrreluctantly concurrr,a deep voicerumbled fromthe shadows behind Nightwind.It only takesssa sssinglearrrow.
It isn‘t just an army of men, but of Changechildren as well, andthat means amageis deep in it somewhere, Starfallput in. Unless what theboy sawwere just costumesor disguises, and I can‘t imagine why barbarians would bother wearing disguises.
It soundsto me asif someonemanagedto reconcilea great many Bearclan septs, Snowfire mused. Maybe - well, this is a wild surmise, but from what I know about the northern tribes, they attach heavy religious and emotional significance to their totems, and a lot of emphasis is put on taking on the attributes of those totems. Now, what would happen if a mage came along, perhaps in the guise of a shaman, who could givethem physicalattributesoftheir totems?
He‘down theclan to thepoint of being ableto reconcileallthefeuds betweenthe septs, Starfall saidflatly. Andthere was someonewho managedthat, once.
Yesssss.Theshadowbehind Nightwindrose, and loomed up over her head.Yessss, therrre wassss. And we allknowhissscurrrsssed name.The shadowresolved itself into a shape, andthe shape into a creature, a creature with the mantling wings and head of a raptor, but a raptor of enormous size, and with four limbs insteadof two. He wasss calledMaarrrrr.
I don‘tthink we‘re in any danger of seeing another Ma‘ar, Kelvren,Nightwind soothed.It‘s all right.
But Starfall frowned. Perhaps. Andperhaps not. Ican‘t help butthink that this isarather nasty coincidence, these barbarians, presumably led or backed by a mage, suddenly moving into territory whereno onehasyet established amatrix for magic.The differencebetween a Ma‘ar and apetty tyrantislargely amatter of power.
Allthemorereason for youto form andholdthematrix,Snowfirereplied firmly.That will have to be our first priority, it seems to me. If the boy is correct, most - if not all - of his people escaped. Surely one will reach Lord Breon, and hecan takecareofthemilitary problem from there.
That would be best,Starfallreplied, but with a littlereluctance. Wearehardly the group best suitedto taking on an army.
But think of what it would havemeant if sssomeone had ssstopped Ma‘arrr when he wasss gatherrringthetrrribesss, Kelvren urged, his eyesglinting inthe firelight. Would it not have been worrrth everrry sssacrrrificssseto do sssso?
Wecan stop any mage just aseasily by holdingthemagicenergy of thisarea away from him, Snowfirereplied. I think we should concentrateon getting that done first. By then, we should know if the Valdemaranshavetaken careofthemilitary situation themselves.
And if they havenot?Kelvren persisted.
We‘ll deal with that when we cometo it, Starfallsaid firmly, endingthedebate.
The gryphon folded his wings, feathers making a cloth-on-cloth sound as they slid across each other intqpreciseorder. Verrry well. I will be - rrready. And if they do rrre-memberrrMa‘arrr and hisss waysss  Kelvren reachedfor alogof firewood and purposefully splintered it into several piecesmerely by squeezing it.  then I will ensurrrethat they rrrememberrr grrryphonsss asss well.
Four
Darian woke in the morning feeling as if hishead weren‘t working quiteright. It was difficultto put histhoughts together; he seemed to be taking a very long timeto get even a singlethought to form. Hestared for a longtime at thewallthat was ahand‘s breadth or two past hisnose, and wondered why therough texturedidn‘t look the way it should. Why did each rough-sawn plank look rounded?And why wasn‘t thewall itself slantingtowardhim as it formedthepeak of theroof? His mind moved slowly and his thoughts felt fuzzy around the edges. And what was wrong with the light? It was greenish, and it was much darker in the loft than it should have been.

It couldn‘t be justturning dawn, becausehe never woke up that early.Maybe its going to rain? Justyn hadn‘t Fore-Seen any rains, though, and that was one thing that he could do right; his weatherwatching was always accurate.

He‘dhadthe strangest dream,too - that the village had been attacked by a whole army. There was fire, a lot of fire in the dream, the whole town had been on fire. It had been more of a nightmare. Darian shivered and tried to remember more. There was a lot of him running, and monsters chasing him, then more running through the forest, then horrible men on horseback chasing him - getting rescued by a Hawkbrother and an owl, a huge owl

A pretty strange dream, too. When would I ever see a Hawkbrother? Never in a thousand years. And who would everbother to attackErrolds Grove with an army? What could theypossibly want? Beans and turnips? Or maybe chickens - He had to shake his head at the way he was trying to make sense of a dream. Anything can happen in a dream, of course oneof WidowClays chickensmust have started laying silver eggs with golden yolks. Ormaybe Justyn „sspellsfinally worked and everyone was suddenly rich, and that was why an army came.

Then herolledover, and sawthat he wasn‘t in the loft, but in a strange, octagonalhutmadeof rough logs - windowless, and with vines over the door. There was a huge owl, the same one he thought he‘donly dreamedabout, blinking sleepily on aperch to one side. At that moment, he realized with aplummetingheart that it hadn‘t been a dream at all. It had allbeen real, horribly real. Errold‘s Grove was gone - or if not gone, it was in the hands of an army of violent strangers, and everyone he knew had fled in fear of losing their lives.

In one moment, he went from sleepy and laughing at himself to despair. His insides became cold; a lump rose in his throat that was half grief and half fear, and his thoughts spun dizzily with nowhere to go. He still couldn‘t quite remember allthat hadhappened, andthe way histhoughtskept spinning didn‘t help. Therewas something about Justyn - and his mind shied away from the thought, as if he didn‘t want to remember, as if remembering would be the most horrible thing that had happened to him.

The village had been taken - but why? What could anyone possibly want with a little town that was on the verge of drying up and blowing away? If there were a single gold coin in the place, he would be surprised. A few of the women had jewelry, silver and silver-gilt, but he was surethere was not enough in the whole village to fill a hat. The women depended on their needlework to brighten their apparel.

Most ornaments were made of carved and painted wood, plaited straw, beads and beadwork, copper, and bronze, and not a single precious stone in the lot, just turquoise, agate, and colored quartz. There simply was nothing worth looting - and even if you cleaned out every bit of beer and liquor in theplace, by thetimeyouparceled it out among allthesoldiers, there wouldn‘t even be enough to get them mildly intoxicated!

This is insane; nothing is making any sense. I should be home, I should be in the loft, no t here. Wherever “here” is. . . .
But if he wasn‘t in the loft in Justyn‘shouse, where washe?
Im with theHawkbrothers - he remembered. This house belonged to them. What werethey going to do with him now? He remembered, with a dreamlike vagueness, that they had asked him questions about what hadhappened, butthey hadn‘t given him any idea what they plannedto do. Where was he goingto go if they didn‘t want himto stay? Could he getthemtotakehim to Kelmskeep? But then what would he do?
Thoughts of Kelmskeep led him back to the village. Kelmskeep must have been where all the villagers were trying to escape to, and that was why they were running without trying to take anything. They could makeLord Breon‘s lands in afewdaysor a week or so - it would be a hardship, but this was summer, and no one would die of exposure or thirst. But what had actually happened to the rest of the villagers? How well-planned had that attack been? Had those horrible fighters caught anyone else? How could they not have? If there had been four men on horseback ranging out that far fromthevillageto catch thosewhotriedto escape,mightn‘t there bemore?
No matter what the town did to me - they never hurt me on purpose, they just wanted me to be like them. They never didanything to anybody, theydontdeserve to havethoseawfulmen gethold of them!
What would happen to them?The man who caught himhadn‘t killed him right off, but what would hehave donewhen he learnedthat Darian didn‘t haveany money and didn‘t knowwhere any was? Darian had only vague notions of what enemy soldiers wanted, based on what bandits wanted. If you didn‘t havemoney forthem, what would soldiers do?Howcould you satisfy them if you didn‘t have what they had come for?
NowDarian‘svivid imagination portrayed all manner of terrible things that could have befallen thefolk of Errold‘s Grove, andhe grewmoreand more agitated ashethought abouttheir possible fates.
The owl turned his head then, as if it sensed something was wrong. It opened a pair of enormous eyes completely and fastened its gaze on him. He found himself locking eyes with it. It clearly was not afraid of him, and strangely enough, he was not afraid of it, although it was easily large enough to hurt him quite seriously, if not kill him, if it took the notion to attack him. In fact, the more he looked into its huge, golden eyes, the calmer and quieter he felt. It was so strange, and warm -feeling, and it made every thought seem to slow down. It was almost as if the owl was puttin g its wing over him and sheltering him, and telling him that everything would be all right. . . .
Then the owl blinked, and the spell was broken. The bird yawned hugely, snapping his beak shut with a loud click. Darian yawned along with the owl, then watched as the bird shook its tufted head so fast it blurred, and felt as if he had to laugh a little at the sight.
The curtain of vines over the door to the hut parted, and a shadow blocked out the light for a moment. By the long, braided hair and the odd clothing, the newcomer had to be a Hawkbrother. As the Hawkbrother came into the light, he saw that it was the one who had rescued him yesterday. He was very tall, with long hair that had white roots, and was dyed all over in patterns of pale and dark brown, golden brown, and bark-gray. His square, chiseled face was very friendly, with many smilecreases at the corners of his mouth. His blue eyes contrasted oddly with his weathered, golden skin. He wore clothing in many shades of brown leather and closely-woven fabric, and his left arm and shoulder were completely encased in a sleeve of padded leather.
Snowfire. His name is Snowfire. And his owl is Hweel.
That was when Darian remembered a calm and friendly voice telling him that this hut was Snowfire‘s, and someone else‘stoo, and ashetook another quick glancearoundhesawtwo sleeping pads like the one he was still on, and a scattering of other belongings. There was a second perch on theother sideof theroom across from Hweel‘s - although no one had actually said anything about a second bird but there wasn‘t abirdon it. Fromthesizeof theperch, thebird must behalf thesizeof Hweel, and he wondered what kind it was.
Well and good, saidtheHawkbrother, standing just insidethe door and looking at him in the friendliest possiblefashion.It seemsthat you are awake at last,though I am certain youneededto sleep. It is difficult to tell what time it is in this ekele, I know. You have slept entirely through breakfast, and it is nowtime for lunch.Would you careto eat anything?
The Hawkbrother had a very odd accent and his phrasing was a little strange, but Darian had no trouble understanding him.I thoughttheyhad theirown language; didn„t Justyn tellmethat? Somehow Snowfire must have learned Valdemaran from someone, but Darian thought he remembered him talking with - a woman? - in some other tongue.
Thank you. I‘m not sure if I‘m hungry,herepliedvaguely, knowinghe should say something in reply, but unable to come up with anything appropriate. What didyou say to someone who‘d saved your life? How many times were you supposed to thank them for it? Did the Hawkbrothers have somespecialsignificanceattachedto saving someone‘s life?It wasn‘t thesort of thing covered in The Booke of Manners that Widow Clay insisted he read
For that matter, The Booke of Manners seemed to give the impression that everyone in the world was Valdemaran.
The Hawkbrother - Snowfire, yes, that was right, he was sure now - came up and sat down beside him on a foldedup blanket. Snowfire‘sarm was bandaged, and obviously stiff and sorefrom the way heheld it, and Darian felt very guilty allat once. After all, if hehadn‘t gotten into trouble, Snowfire wouldn‘t have gotten hurt rescuinghim. I‘m sorry about your arm,hesaid awkwardly, blushing. Should he beg Snowfire‘s forgiveness for gettinghim into difficulties?
My arm? Snowfire looked surprised, then shrugged, as if it meant nothingto him. I wouldn‘t worry about it if I wereyou. It‘s hardly a serious injury.
It doesn‘t look good,hepersisted. I mean, it must hurt an awful lot, andyou won‘t beableto use a bowuntil it heals up some.
Oh, I havehad worseinsect bites,Snowfire saidnonchalantly.Truly, it isnothingfor youto concern yourself about. It does give me an excuse to laze about the camp while others go out and do my huntingfor me!
It‘s just, if I hadn‘t been there, you wouldn‘t have gotten hurt rescuingme  he began. But I was so scared, I couldn‘tthink, and after Justyn 
And then, as if those words had been a trigger, he suddenly remembered everything that had happened yesterday - the fight with Justyn, running off, returning and being sent out as punishment coming back in time to see Justyn - see Justyn on the bridge
- see Justyn sacrifice himself - one moment, standing there, facing down that Thing, the next moment, seeing nothing of the bridge except a sheet of flame.
Some barrier he had not even been aware of let go at that moment, and there was nothing he could do to stop what happened next. Darian felt all the blood draining from his face, leaving him cold and empty; he trembled, then simply fell apart. A thousand unformed regrets triggered the avalanche, and they tumbled together with self-recrimination, simple grief, guilt, and mourning. They held him so paralyzed that he could not even move, he could only shake and stare at Snowfire with a sea of unbearable sorrow flooding him and choking his throat
Snowfire somehowsawit, or part of it, for hemurmured,Ah, poor fledgling! Let it go, let it out
- andput his arm aroundDarian‘s shoulders in a gesturecompletely natural and fraternal. Andthat was enough, just enough, to release the flood entirely.
He flung himself into Snowfire‘s shoulder, andhowled. And Snowfireheldhim, firmly and comfortingly, and let him cry himself out. There was nothing awkward and self-conscious about it; the Hawkbrother just let him cry until he had no more tears left, as if he let total strangers cry on his shoulder all thetime. For the first time since his parents disappeared, Darian had someoneto cry with, someone to share his grief with. It helped. It was amazing how much it helped.
Finally, after what seemed like days, the torrent of tears turned to a stream, the stream to a trickle, and thetears at last stopped altogether. It left him with an ache still in his heart, a burden of guilt pressing down his soul, and a void of loss he could never have expressed in words, but he was too tired for the moment to continue his mourning.
So, who was Justyn? Snowfire asked with careful gentleness. Besidestheone who heldthe bridge so your peoplecould escape.
Justyn was wasthe wizard,Darian managed, asSnowfire let him sit up and handed him a real handkerchief. I was hewas my Master, andhe wasteachingme, or hewas supposedto be. He flushed apainful crimson, even to thetip of his ears, which burned asif hehad gotten frostbite. I wasn‘t a goodapprentice,he admitted with profound shame and grief. I kept runningoff, and I didn‘t want to practicethe way he wanted meto.But there was atinge of resentment, too, andhe couldn‘t help voicing it in hisown defense. But, Snowfire, no one ever asked me if I wanted to be a wizard! They just said I had the Gift, so I had to be one! I wanted to be a hunter and a trapper, like like my parents  Hewould havesaid more, but histhroat closed again.
Snowfire was silent for amoment. I do not knowyou well,Darian,hesaid after amoment. But I think that youmust havehad areason for running off and not practicingthosemagics.
Darian shook hishead, still flushing, andtook refuge in oneof thephrasesthe adultsof Errold‘s Grove had always seemedto hate.I dunno,hemumbled. Every timehe saidthat,the adult he was talkingto alwaysreplied with,What do youmean, you don‘t know? Howcan younot knowwhy you‘vedone something?You did it, didn‘t you?Then whydid you do it?Thereply of I dunno, always seemed to trigger an angry interrogation which only got angrier as he retreated farther into himself.
Snowfire, however, didnot challengethat phrase. Perhaps someday you will knowhowto say what you felt, what your reasons were,hemurmuredencouragingly. I would liketo know, when you can tell me. It is just hard to say with words. Sometimes, one can feel a reason without being able to say whatthe reason is. Weallfeelthat.He sighed. So - Wizard Justyn is the one who blocked thebridgeagainst thearmy. Then he setthe bridge afire, andperished in theflame?
I think  Darian began, then stared at Snowfire with hismouth droppingopen. I didn‘t say anything! Howdid youknowwhat happenedto Justyn? For amoment, wild tales of how Hawkbrothers could readone‘sthoughts sweptthrough his mind.
I am amage, too,Snowfire remindedhim. If I had been in hisplace, and brave enough, and desperate enough, it is something that I would have done. It is something that allthose who have that Gift knowthat they may someday need to do, if the situation is hopeless and the need great enough. And those who have given of themselves in that way - are much honored for their bravery and nobility of spirit.
Darian swallowed and took a deep breath, while Snowfire nodded, to reinforce his words. Someone as strong and exotic as a Hawkbrother, honoring Justyn? If only Justyn could have heard it when he was alive. He wastryingto keep those fightersback,Darian said, grief clenchinghis stomach as he once again found himself holding back tears. Justyn - this Hawkbrother was saying that Justyn had been braveand noble!Ithink hemust‘vetold everybody to run whileheheldthem back. I think that‘s why no-one was fighting. I think he told them not to fight, because he knewthey couldn‘t fight an army, andhe was buyingtime forthemto get away.
Heprobably was, andthat wasthe wisest course for everyone.Snowfireput afinger under Darian‘schin andlifted it, so that Darian was looking straight into his eyes.I want youto listento me and believe me, Darian. What you described to us last night was definitely a very large and organized group, and perhaps as you thought, an entire army, of well-trained fighters. If Justyn determined that the best course was for people to run, he was right. There is absolutely nothing your people could have done against them, except be killed. That is the way armies are. It is what they do, it is why they are armies. They are made so that allthat can stand against them is another army. Running was not only the best option for your people, it was the only option for them. They were not being cowardly; they were accepting the gift that Justyn offered to them. And I will tell you something else; I think that if they had known in advancethat the gift included his life, they would nothave accepted it, andthey would have insistedthat heescapewith them.
But I‘m supposedto be amage I should have been there, helping him  Darian was overwhelmed with shame and guilt, so much so that he was not certain he had spoken aloud until Snowfire shook his head.
Darian, you willnot come intothe fullpotentialof your ability for at least another two, perhaps threeyears,theHawkbrother replied.Maybemore. And even then, you could not use that potential without several years of training, study, and practice. Even if you had begun training seriously three years ago, you would not have been ready to help Justyn now. You would have been of no more use to him than - than if you were going to be a fighter, and he was an older warrior. Your strength as a mage is something that you must grow into, as you would grow into your strength as a fighter. There is a perfectly good reason why armies do not field ranks full of younglings your age - and it is the same reason why you would have been of little help to Justyn even if you had been training to your utmost.”
Yes, but  Darian began, then stopped, unableto articulate why he was so certain that if hehad been there helping Justyn, the old wizard would still be alive, only sure that it was so.
Youfeeldifferently, andI cannot convinceyouotherwise. Snowfireshrugged a little. There is no arguing with a feeling; I wish that there was. But Darian, you cannot take on guilt for every bad thing that has happened! Put the guilt where it rightly belongs, at least - for if someone had not decided that it is easier to steal from innocents instead of earning their desires, that army would not have appeared on the road to Errold‘s Grove in thefirst place! If there isblameto beplaced, then place it squarely on the back of the aggressor who is leading these fighters, whoever he is! It is he who deservesto be punished, not your people, and not you!
Darian was struck by the good common sense of that, and felt a little of the burden he was carrying insideease. I I guess you‘reright.
I knowI am, Snowfiresaid firmly.And I knowthat you arefeelingvery strange and worn. But now, I have something difficult that I must ask of you. Adept Starfall and I asked questions of you last night, when you were very tired, but we need to ask more of you now that you are well awake and thinking. And the sooner we can ask you these things, the fresher they will be in your mind. Doyouthinkthat youcan manage such athing for us, when youareclean andfed?
Darian‘sheart sank. He reallydid not want to go over allof yesterday‘shorribleevents, but he knewthat, hereally neededto say Yes.
I yes,hereplied, in a smallvoice.
Good, andyouarebeing quite braveto facewhat you will haveto remember, Snowfiretold him, so earnestly that he did not doubt that Snowfire actually meant the words, and wondered at Snowfire calling himbrave.Now, I will explain to you why we are going to need to know very many tiny details. My people are allies of your people, and we have taken on certain responsibilities. We are, all of us, mages - some with less power than you have at this moment, and some, like Starfall, with a very, very great deal more - but all of us are mages. That makes my people very different, and it makes usvery desirableto other mages. Snowfirebit hislip ashe looked down at Darian for a moment, as if he were debating something, and then his expression settled, as if he had decided to let Darian hear moreconfidences. There are - ways - that a mage can use another mage, even if that other is an unwilling prisoner. That is why we must be careful that we do not fall into the hands of mages who are working evil.
Darian shivered all over. Was thatwhy that huge fighter who‘d caught him hadn‘t killedhim? Vague and ill-defined pictures flitted through his mind, all of them ugly.
Weareonly avery smallparty of Tayledras, Snowfirecontinued. We must know as much about this enemy as possible. We need to know if we can and should attack him ourselves, if we should merely interfere with him but let your Valdemaran fighters deal with him, or if we should actually hide from him. Do you see why we must dothat?
Perhapsoneof theother boys from Errold‘s Grove wouldnot have, but Darian did. Henodded. I can see it wouldn‘t makeany differenceif you waited, so longas everybody got away,hereplied. I mean, what‘sthepoint of riskingyourself for a bunch of old houses? Right? It isn‘t asif thepeople couldn‘t rebuild, or even move. He bit his lip. Maybe nowthey‘ll bewillingto settle somewhere else. They surely weren‘t prosperingthere.
That iscorrect,Snowfiresaid, looking relieved. Your Queen once said something both wise and profound when she ordered the evacuation of the Eastern Border - that it was not the land that was Valdemar, it was the people. It is not the houses that were your village, it was your people. If the people havesurvived, then thevillagehas, regardlessof whether or notthehouses are stillthere.
Darian nodded solemnly.They could even stillcallthemselvesErrold‘s Grove‘ if they wanted to.Hetoyed with a bit of fringeon the blanket that had coveredhim last night. I would understand if you decided not to fight - them - right away. I mean, as long as everybody got away all right. And if there‘samage with these fighters, youprobably shouldn‘t let him knowthat there aremoremages here 
Thereis certainlyamage behindthem somewhere,Snowfire interrupted.Perhapsmorethan one. Those bear-men you saw could not have been madethat way without a mage. And Darian, quite frankly, if there are no people who are in need of rescue, the very best thing that we can do is to stay away from thosefighters.
Why?Darian asked, alittle surprised at hisvehemence.
Do you recallwhat I told you about what theTayledras are doing in your land? How we are makingthechannelsfor magicto flowin? Snowfire waited expectantly, hisheadtilted alittleto one side.
Darian closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded as memoryfog cleared. And. . . you saidthat you were doing that so that a bad mage couldn‘t get themagic locked away from everybody else and. . . .He suddenly felt anumber ofthingsfall into placein hismind. Oh! Sincethere‘samagethere, hemighttry and lock themagicaway!
I am almost positivethat isexactly why he is here, Snowfiresaid grimly. I frankly cannot imagine why the enemy would attack your little village except for that purpose; if a special place for gathering magic is nearby, he would have a ready-built headquarters from which to work, and a food supply already gathered. And that is why it is our first and best duty to prevent him from accomplishingthat task.
Darian sighed. He could certainly see Snowfire‘s point, andas longas everyone was safe, what would the Hawkbrothers accomplish by fighting? Hadn‘t he just been thinkingthat there wasn‘t anything worth bothering about in Errold‘s Grove?Hadn‘t hejusttold Snowfirethat it might even be better if the people went somewhere better to resettle?
Still, the idea of a bunch of fur-covered bullies just coming in and taking everything and not being made to pay for it made him angry. And after what Justyn did
No, Justyn couldn„thave thoughthe was saving thevillage, just thepeople. Hemust have known thatthere wasn„ta chanceof saving anything else. So I shouldn„tgetall worked up over them taking the village.
Darian, areyou ready to help us?Snowfireasked, interruptinghim midway through his attempt to sort out his feelings.
I guess so,he began vaguely, and beforehecouldhave secondthoughts, Snowfire had gotten him out of the hut, through a little maze of vine-covered barriers, and he was suddenly confronting, not one or two, but ten or twelve of the Hawkbrothers, each of them with his or her own bird perched on a shoulder or arm. They sat together in a sunny, circular clearing with a tiny stream running along one side. They‘dtaken their seatseither on the ground, or on naturalobjects such as bouldersor pieces of log. All of them were clearly waiting for him, and as Snowfire sat him down in the middle of this half-circle of people, and stood discreetly aside, Darian felt himself to be the uncomfortable focus of their interest.
Although all of the people here had the same sort of green-and-brown clothing that Snowfire wore, no two costumes were alike, and although many had heavy leather gloves on one or both hands, none of them wore the same shoulder-to-wrist gauntlet that he did. All of the birds were enormous, and of the breeds that Darian recognized, these individuals weretwice and three times bigger than the ones Darian knew. There werethree people with large hawks with vivid rusty-orange and goldenyellow tails, two with thin and nervous hawks with yellow-orange eyes and pale, almost pinkish breasts, three with falcons that looked just like forestgyres, two with ones that looked like peregrines, one with a slate-gray bird with aggressive, reddish eyesthat must have been a goshawk of some sort, and one with a huge, clever-looking crow. No one else had an owl of any kind. The birds all watched Darian with interest and intelligence, and Darian had the peculiar feeling that they heard and understood every word that was being said.
Another person came around a screen of vines, a most impressive and exotically-dressed man with waist-length white hair, who had a white falcon with pale brown markings perched on a pad on his shoulder.Thisperson‘srobeswere so elaborately cut and layeredthat it was obvioushecould never have gone scouting about through the forest as the others did - so this must bethe Adept that Snowfire had been talking about. Something about him seemed very familiar, and as the Adept spoke quietly with Snowfireandoneortwo of theothers, Darian finally remembered why. He‘dmetthis man last night, and the man had questionedhim with Snowfire‘s assistance, becausehis Valdemaran hadn‘t been anywherenear asgood as Snowfire‘s.This was Starfall, who must be avery powerful mage indeed, if the deference the other Hawkbrothers showed him was any indication.
As Darian found himself to be the focus of all those eyes, avian as well as human, he began to recall how often he managed to get himself into trouble - and that was with people he knew! How could he hope to do anything other than get himself into worsetrouble with these folk? And what must they think of him for running away the way he had? Surely they must think he was a dreadful coward at best, and at worst
At worst, they must think he was good for nothing except to get them into moretrouble. His heart sank, and he began to feel utterly worthless. What good was he? What good had he ever been? Surely these people could only wish him gone out of their lives.
He began to be a little bit afraid of them, too. Oh, Snow-fire seemed approachable and normal enough, but the rest of these folk - well, they were the mysterious and dangerous guardians of the Forest. Who knew what strange customs they had? What if they decided to make him disappear? After all, if he disappeared, there would be less trouble allthe way around.
Snowfire and the Adept finished their conversation and came over to Darian, and took seats beside him with him placed between thetwo of them.That took him aback;he‘dexpectedto be sitting alone, surrounded by strangers, all of them interrogating him. But it seemed as if Starfall and Snowfire had made themselves his advocates, of a sort.
We‘d liketo begin now, if youareready?Snowfire said, phrasingthe words as aquestion.
I guess I am,Darian replied, a bit shaken.
Someof our scouts do notknowyour tongue at all, andmost do not knowit as wellas I do, Snowfiretoldhim, by way of explanation.So. They will ask thequestion, andI will act astranslator
- or I will clarify what they are asking. I would like you to think back to just before you sawthe signs of the attack. Had you seen or heard anything in the past few weeks to make you think that there might besuch an attack?
Darian shook hishead.No,he saidtruthfully, then added, butthepeopledon‘t go out of the village much, and especially not into the Forest. So they might not see anything. Justyn  hisvoice quavered, Justyn wasn‘tmuch goodat ForeSight. Hecould seethe weather allright, but never anything on the ground. That was how we got caught by a flood last fall - the rain that caused it was way up north, hedidn‘t ForeSee it, andof coursehedidn‘t ForeSeethe way it would maketheriver rise.He shook hishead.Everybody was so afraidof the Forestthat they wouldn‘t stir pastthe fields if they could help it, and nobody was dueto go over to oneof theother towns for trading for a while.
Snowfiretranslated, and someofthe scoutsdiscussed what hehad said amongthemselves. Are townsthere, to your north?calledout one.
Darian had to think hard about that one - Justyn had been making him memorize maps, but he had a poor head for it. He had much better luck in remembering things by means of landmarks than by arbitrary markson apieceof paper. I don‘tthink so,he said, tryingto behonest. That is, I think that the ones north of us are all a lot farther east as well. I think  Heclosedhiseyes, andtried to visualizethemap he‘d been studying. I thinkthat the border herekindof sticksout in abump pointing west, and we‘reat thetip of thebump.
There wasmorediscussion, and somesketching in the sand. Let us go forwardthen, to thetime of theattack, Starfall saidcarefully. When did youfirst knowthat there was something wrong?
I was up in atree, lookingfor mycofoetidafungus,hereplied.I was pretty high, because we‘d kind of harvested everything that was near the ground and near thetown. So the first thing I saw was that there were big fires in town.
One of the Hawkbrothers with a forestgyre said something to Snowfire, who relayed the question.So the attack had already begun?
Darian shook hishead.No - no, not yet. I didn‘t knowwhat was happening, but I knew something had to be wrong, so I left the basket and ran back to town, and what was burning, mostly, was haystacks and sheds, and just a few of them. And I saw Vere - that was one of the farmers– setting afirehimself. I guessthey wereburningthingsto keep the badpeoplefrom gettingthem.
Now discussion among the scouts lasted for sometime, before another called out a question that Snowfiretranslated. What didthe army look like?Exactly? Can you remember any numbers?
He shuddered at that one, but he had expected that it would be coming, and he closed his eyes andtriedto picturethesceneat the bridge.There was Justyn on the bridge,he said slowly. Then there was the big monster with the little monster riding on it. Then there were some of the bear-men they were five across the road, and I think four lines of five - then behind them was a bunch of human people with tall spears  Hetried so hardto visualizethescenethat hebeganto get aheadache.I couldn‘t see behindthem very far, buttherewerea lot of them.They werelined up on theroad five across, and - I remember so many spears sticking up in the air that it looked like a burned forest was onthe road, for as far back asI could see.
He opened his eyes at the murmur of surprise, but now attention was completely off him for the moment, as the Hawkbrothers discussed possible numbers represented by what he remembered. From their worried faces, he gatheredthatthe implications weren‘t good.
Wereallthe bear-men on the bridge? Starfall askedhim quietly.
I think so,he said, just as quietly. But I don‘t knowfor sure, because I ran. Some of them might havejumped intothe river, and someofthem might have gotten out of the way.
And somemight havebeen farther back in theranks, Snowfirepointed out.
Starfall sighedandnodded agreement. Didyou see anyonethat  He groped for words for a moment, then said something incomprehensible to Snowfire.
Did you seeanyone who looked likeamage? Snowfireasked,then raisedoneeyebrowas if aware of the useless-ness of such a question.
I didn‘t seeanyone wearingfancy robes, or who looked likehewas doingany magic, Darian replied, tryingto be asexact aspossible.Thethingonthe lizard acted more like - like - somebody who was in charge of things, but not really in charge of everything, if you get my meaning. He acted like somebody who had to answer to somebody else. And when he got caught in the fire, the rest of em acted like it wasno greatthingthat hewasn‘tthere. Likemaybethey were getting ordersfrom somebody behindthem.
Darian was doing his best to answer the quest ionsto the fullest, but themore he had to think about Justyn, to seethe scene in his mind, the worse he felt. He was doing his best to hold back tears, but it wasn‘t easy.
And it didn‘t get any easier. Where weretherest of your peopleat thetimethe bridge was destroyed? Starfallasked.
Gone, Darian toldhim glumly. They wereallrunning away from the village when I was runningtoward it.
Andyouturnedto run when the bridge was destroyed?That wasoneof thescouts, avery young man whose face Darian remembered from last night.
Hehunghis head, not likingto think what they must believeof him for running. Yes,he admitted, flushing hotly, from the top of his head on down.
And where weretheenemy then?theyoung man persisted. Stillon the other side of the river?
Darian looked up, surprisedto seethatthere was no open scorn in their faces.No  hetold them. No, someof them wereontheother sidewhen I got out to thefields. I guessthey must have forded the river, or something, but they were working their way through the fields, I guess to keep people from escaping.
Andyou eluded them? camethe question.
Well,headmitted, there weren‘t many of them. AndI ran away. Admittingthatto allof those people was one of themost difficultthingshe‘d ever hadto do, andhefelt tension build up suddenly insidehim.I hadto!hecried out,the wordsforcedout bythetension,I hadto! I couldn‘t help Justyn. I didn‘t knowwhat elseto do!
And then, unexpectedly, he lost control of himself and burst into tears again, and felt another overwhelming wave of shame for losing control of himself, which ironically only made him cry harder.
Starfall patted his shoulder sympathetically, but evidently was not prepared to leave himalone.I am sorry that we must ask these questions, Darian, but we need the answers. Now, do you remember how many men you saw on your side of the river, and if they were entirely human? An accurate number?
The questioning went on despite his distress, becoming more and more detailed. Several times he lost control again and began to cry; each time the Hawkbrothers waited politely for him to regain control of himself, then continued from where they had left off.
Finally, though, they had exhausted everything he could tell them about the enemy army - for such, they were all agreed, it was. The questioning turned to another subject, one even moretrying for him to face, because the subject was himself. Some of the scouts had gone off, leaving only Starfall, Snowfire, Wintersky, and two others, but the five of them were inexorable in their questions. If allthe villagers were afraid to go into the Forest, why was he out there? Why was he not afraid of the Forest? What had happened to his parents? Why had he been signed over to Justyn‘scare bythe rest of thevillagers?Why didthevillagers have any say in what was to happen to Darian?Why didn‘t Darian want to be a mage? Did he think there was something wrong with being a mage? Did he often run off? What did Justyn do when he disobeyed?Was he thinking of running away at the time of the attack? How did he feel about what Justyn did on the bridge?
It was the last question that undid him. It was bad enough having to admit how often he had gotten into trouble, andworseadmittingthat thereason he‘d been sent out of thevillagewas as a punishment for running away from a duty, but to be asked how he felt about seeing Justyn sacrifice himself
Again, he startedto cry, but thistimehe couldn‘t get controlof himself once he started. Snowfire even triedto soothehim, sayingthat hewasn‘t at fault - but he knewthat he was, and he was certain that, in some strange way, he should have been able to do something. But all he had done was to run away, like the coward he was.
You weren‘t there,you don‘t know,you didn‘t see what I did!he wailed, hisvoice breaking with hysteria. You don‘t understand! I‘m acoward, I‘m arotten, lying coward, and it‘sallmy fault!
And with that, he ran, stumbling and half blinded with tears, out of the clearing, in the direction he‘d been led from.
He couldn‘tthink of what to do, but when hefound himself back in frontof Snowfire‘s hut,the darkness inside seemed a good placeto hide himself in, and he blundered in. The owl was gone, it was very quiet, and he crumpled into a miserable heap on the sleeping pallet, crying so hard that he thought he would never be able to stop.
Now I feel guilty, Starfallmurmuredto Snowfire, asthe child stumbledout of thegathering space, choking on his sobs.
Snowfire sighed. Nightwind had warned him last night that scenes like this would occur, and probably severaltimes. Nightwindthinksthereareemotionalhurtsthat hehasnot dealt with, except by avoidingthem,hetoldtheAdept. Shesaid last night that he was suffering from other troubles, things that perhaps occurred sometime ago. She was quite sure he would not even mention them unless he was prodded into it.
Well, it seemsthat oneofthosehurts wasthe lossof hisparents, Starfall said, and ran his hand through his silver hair.Poor child. I would feelterribleif somethinghappenedto mine - he must feel dreadful.
It seemsobviousto methat hehasnot been allowed to properly mourn for them, Snowfire pointedout. These people who took him in seemed to want to make him ashamed of them. Children may be resilient, but 
But not thatresilient, Starfall interrupted, his mouth set grimly.And althoughthese Valdemarans may have meant well, it is said by our cousinsthat Theroadto disaster isordered by the righteous, planned by the wellmeaning, and paved with their good intentions.‘ I thinkthat, although Dar‘ian hasmany faults, as do most younglings, they wereviewed in an exaggerated manner. On the whole, theywere in a fair way to ruining afundamentally good child.
Snowfire could only nod, for he was in perfect agreement. How can good people manage to so mishandle a boy? he wondered. Was it only that they refused to see he did not fit in their constrained lives? Or weretheyonly trying to be “cruelto be kind,”never realizing they wereonlybeing cruel, and their kindness missed the mark altogether?I will seeif Nightwindthinks sheshould comehelp with this latest outbreak,he sighed.I hateto pressthe boy, but even if we are going to do nothing more than avoid any contact with these barbarians, we still need his knowledge of the area, and we needto knoweverything hehas seen.
Starfall frowned at that; Snowfire reflected that in many ways, he was made of sterner stuff than the Adept. Well, Starfall might be the heart of the expedition, but Snowfire was its hands - and it was his job to keep the heart safe. Finally Starfall could contain himself no more.
I don‘t want to destroy thechild justto extract information!Starfallprotested, then colored. He - I apologize; I knowyou would never countenance any such thing. It is just that I am not used to havingchildren fleemy presenceintears.
Snowfire smiled wanly.Darian‘sfragility hasan unnerving effect on all of us, and that effect is redoubled by the burden of what he has told us. T wo days ago, we were engaged in simple duty; something routine, not unmixed with pleasure, I think, and a duty we were completely prepared to handle. Now, suddenly we have a mysterious enemy of unknown ability appearing to threaten us, without prior warning of any sort. It is quite enough to make anyone feeltempted to indulge in a fit of strong hysterics. I know I am tempted.
Starfall stood up, shook out his robes, andtossed back his hair.I hopeyou will not think badly of me if I leave the boy in the hands of you and Nightwind  heventured. I feelas if I am playing the coward myself by doing so, but 
But you have other things to do that involve the welfareof morethan oneboy,Snowfire remindedhim. Andyou maythink me ruthless in some ways, but if it meant preventing the rise of another Ma‘ar, or even another Falconsbane, I would not hesitateto sacrificemyself, the boy, and anyone else I could get to volunteer.
I think you would havea surprisingnumber of volunteers, Starfallreplied. And you areright; I do have a task to completethat cannot wait, regardless of my personal feelings. I am going to leave things in your hands, as usual. Now, morethan ever, I needto get thosematricesestablished.
Youmight consider lockingthepower to yourself, Snowfire suggested, and as Starfall looked surprised, even shocked, headded, Thereareno other Alliancemages living hereto requireaccess to it, you can key the rest of us into it if you really think it is necessary. This may prevent trouble. What can be locked securely can always be unlocked - but it cannot be stolen. That is one way to make sure this new mage cannot get at it, and one way to make surethat, if worst comes to worst, he must keep you alive. That would give time for help to come, should disaster befall and you come into captivity.
Youhaveapoint, Starfall acknowledged, lookingtroubled and just a littlequeasy. Starfallhad never had to face a situation likethis before, and Snowfire felt very sorry for him. For all that Tayledras were sturdy folk, not all had grown up prepared to face an enemy in life-or-death struggle, and Adepts especially tended to stay toward the power management sideof magic. I‘ll consider it. I would not havethought it possible for a mageto work Changes on humans under our current conditions; if he can do that, he may be able to do other unpleasant and unexpected things. That being so - he may be ableto bypass anything but atruepersonal lock.
As Starfall walkedoff inthe direction of hisworkplace,Snowfirewas leftto contemplatethe smaller problem of Darian.
Hesgoing to have to cryhimselfoutagain, and hehasnt yetgotten to thepoint wherehes going to considermy failure to appear at his side as an act of desertion. In fact, he may just be grateful to be left alone. Better to consult with Nightwind first - and possibly with Kelvren. The gryphon had managed to get himself wrought up t o a high pitch of excitement at the notion that he might betheoneto confront asecondMa‘ar - as unlikely as that was - and it might do Kel some good to have something elseto think about. Something like one small boy, parentless and friendless, with an apparent affinity for winged things.
So, the next obvious place to go was the rock at the rear of the valley where the gryphon liked to sun himself between scouting forays. And sincehe‘d already been out oncethismorning, making certain that the barbarians had not gotten toocloseto theTayledras‘ perimeter, he would definitely be there.
The spring that watered this valley had been made to serve many creative purposes; its water had been divided into several channels that gave everyone access to athread of stream at the very least. Tayledras liked the sound of running or falling water, and preferred to live in the midst of it. Lacking the lovely, secluded spaces of a Vale, everyone in the team had made up for - or hertasi had made up for - that lack by creating a scrap of water garden for him- or herself. Some had constructed tiny pools with a single water lily or a stand of reeds and a tiny singing-frog, some preferred miniature waterfalls and gurgling brooks filled with stones, and Nightwind had made a clever little aqueduct and water wheel that powered an ever-changing series of frivolous and colorful whirligigs. But the greater part of the water could be diverted to fill two pools, oneto be used only for washing, the other for swimming. The former was emptied when the water was dirty into a sand-filter so that the water that sank into the earth was cleansed. Since there was no natural hot spring here, the Tayledras were making do with a steambath. Kelvren, being a fastidious, gryphon, made use of the swimming or washing pool on a daily basis, but could not be persuaded into the steam-hut.
Kelvren‘s daily bath was an occasion of much splashingand generally emptiedthepool.When every feather on his body was soaked, he would shake himself out, thus ensuring that anyone and anything near by that was not already drenched would receive a fair share of the spray. Then he would flap laboriously to a smooth rock high abovethe pool, one of the few places in the valley that received sun for most of the day. There he would sit and preen until he considered every feather to be perfectly groomed, at least in a serviceable manner; after that histrondlirn could do decorative and restorative tendings in the evening.
By checking the angle of the sun, Snowfire reckoned that Kelvren would be about halfway through the grooming process and damp, but not wet. Gryphons, being more complicated and imperfect creatures than the bondbirds, occasionally suffered some deficiencies, and one of the more common was a tail gland that produced an insufficient quantity of oil to keep the feathers healthy and weatherproof.That was Kelvren‘sproblem, and it was oneof Nightwind‘s duties ashis trondlirn to make up for that lack. So she would be with him, adding touches of very light, f ragrant oil to the shaftsof his larger feathers with asmall artist‘spaintbrush. Afterthat, it was his jobto preen it into the barbs. An odd task, but then, caring for gryphons evidently involved a great many odd tasks.
Snowfire walked down the winding paths that threaded the encampment with a lengthened stride that allowed him to move quickly without appearing to hurry. He soon reached the end of the valley and as he came around the last vine curtain and out into the full sunlight beyond the trees, he saw Nightwind sitting besideKelvren on the gryphon‘sfavoredperch. She wastheonly person inthe entire group who had the same raven-wingblack hair astheir Shin‘a‘in cousins, along with the golden complexion and intense blue eyes. She was not tall, but she held herself so well that she gave the impression of being taller than she was. Her finely-sculptured face reminded him a little of a vixen. She did indeed have atiny paintbrush in one hand, and a pot in the other, all her attention concentrated on the primaries and secondaries of the wings he had stretched out over her lap like a great, feathered blanket. It looked for all the world as if she were gilding or painting the great bird.
In fact, she could have been painting him; for special occasions, besides wearing body- and legjewelry, the gryphons often had their feathers bleached, then dyed or painted, and sometimes strings of beads or bells were attached to the base of the tail-covert feathers or along the shafts of the crestfeathers or primaries. She had told Snowfirethat this, too, was one of her skills - an uncommon one amongtrondlirn. Kelvren was excessively proud of the fact that his attendant was so skillful a feather-painter. Snowfire himself had never seen a gryphon so decorated, and frankly, could not imagine it. The whole idea seemed very bizarreto him, as if Hweel should suddenly express a desire to be transformed with colors, like a firebird or a scarlet jay. But gryphons, being highly intelligent, had an appreciation for artistry and a particular eye for ornament. Since they were in a very real sense living sculptures by a long-lost master artist, Urtho, they felt rightly that they were canvasses for beauty to be worked upon. Snowfire wondered wryly if Urtho had bred them for vanity, or if this trait had been an accidental featureof thesecreated creatures.
He hailed them both; Nightwind responded with a wave of her brush, and Kel with fanning the opposite wing from the one being tended to. He rounded the pool - as he had expected, Kel had pretty much emptied it, and it was now refilling from the spring - and climbed up the path to their rock.
I takeit from your expression that thesituation isnot exactly a goodone?Nightwindasked, as he sat down beside her with his back to t he sun.
In a word, correct,hesaid, asKelcocked an ear-tuft at him. He quickly summed up the most salient points of the questioning, and Kel snapped his beak and flattened his head-feathers.
Not good,the gryphon surmised. It appearrsssthatthistrrruly isss an arrrmy, and not jussst a child‘sss exagerrration. An arrrmy of rrreasssonable quality, asss well. Well arrnned, welltrrrained.
Andthere isahigh probability of amage amongthem or leadingthem,heremindedthe gryphon. My guess would be that he is leadingthem. Andto behonest, we don‘t havethestrengthto risk a direct or even indirect confrontation.
Kelvren growled, but nodded reluctantly. I do not like it, but you arrre, unforrrtunately, corrrect. But I sssshould like to venturrre a sorrrtie orrr two, ssstrrrictly ssspy missss-sionsss. At night, perrrrhapsss? With Hweel to guide, I am a good night flyerrr.
Snowfire gazed at thegryphon with surpriseand admiration.Now that is one of the better ideas I haveheardtoday, hereplied, very pleased with theidea. Hweelneeds acertain amount of mental guidance, and you should have a backup, so that could be my role. I think I could manage that without needingto usea weapon.
That‘s good, because untilthat wound is healed, you won‘t bedoing anything like shooting a bow, Nightwind said, rather pointedly.
I think, Snowfirereplied, with a bit of impatience,that I am perfectly capableof figuringthat out for myself.
And what about thetimeyou went climbingright after a concussion, last year? sheasked.
He ignored her, which appearedto causeher agreat dealof amusement.HweelandI could go in together as far asthat clearing whereI rescuedthe boy,he saidto Kelvren.Then you and Hweel could go on alone. We can get some idea from the boy how near thetrees grow to the village, but my impression wasthat you could easily usethem ascover quite closein.
Kel nodded, clearly satisfied by having something constructiveto do.
Nowthat you mention the boy, Nightwind put in,howbadly did hetaketo being questioned?
Snowfire winced. Well, heleftthemeeting in tears, if thattellsyouanything.
No morethan I expected,shereplied with a shrug. Didhehappen to let anything out that would give you ahint to thoseother emotional burdens he‘scarrying?
Someof hisbackground. Hisparents weretrappers, and apparently disappearedayear or so ago. The people of his village were afraid of the Forest and have been sincethe mage-storms brewed up some nasty creatures out there. Evidently the encounters they had with the monsters gave them some severe shocks. So the villagers disapproved of anyone who would go into the Forest on a regular basis, claiming that the Storm-Changed monsters would track such people back to the village to attackthem.”
So what happened whentheparents didn‘t come back? Nightwind asked. What madethe villagerstakehim in?
Guilt, maybe, Snowfirehazarded. He was apprenticedto the village mage, who evidently was not very good, and didn‘t get much respect. Dar‘ian didnot really want to beamagehimself. Andthe villagersdid their best to persuade him that hisparents brought their fateon themselves.Heassumed that Nightwind could make her own assessment from those rather bald facts, probably much more accurately than he could.
Oh, no  she said, looking athim with alltracesof amusement gone. No wonder he‘satangle of unhappiness inside! I hardly dare think of what hemust begoingthrough.
I do needyour insight,hereminded her. Youaretheonly Empath among us, you know.
I‘m nottrained in sortingout human emotions, sheprotested,then made aface. I know, I‘m makingexcuses. Emotions areemotions.
But amongmy peoplesss, ourrr emotionalsssolutionsss arrremuch morrre dirrrect,Kelpointed out with a chuckle.
Andyour emotions weremodeledon yourmaker‘s, which were quitehuman.Point taken. Now, let methink amoment. Shepressed her fingersto hertemples. I‘m goingto assumethat hehad a strong and positive bond with his parents, so we have the obvious trauma of losing them, and the notso-obvious trauma of not knowing what really happened to them. He could even be coping with the loss by inventingreasons whythey might still bealive, which isonly delayingthemourningperiod.
That sounds reasonable,heagreed.Thepeopleof his village strongly disapproved of his parentsthemselvesas well astheir profession. I don‘t imaginetoo many days went by without Dar‘ian hearinghowreckless and dangerous hisparents were.
Which made it imperativeto him to defendthem, except that defendingthem would be disrespectful of the adults in the village, who would in turn punish him in some way, never thinking that this was telling him that he either had to disassociate himself from his patents 
Not likely. Hrrrr, Kel rumbled.
Or takeonthe same disapproval. It also told himthat it was inappropriateto mourn them, since presumably he was now inthecareofmuch worthier‘ people. She shook her head fretfully.I wish people would think beforethey do things likethis to children! All right, so before he has lived a single day with these people, he has been given the message that they disapprove of him, it is wrong to caredeeply about theparentshe loved becausethey didn‘t deserve it, and heisto be gratefulto people whose waysareutterly at odds with his. That‘safine way to begin anewlife, isn‘t it?
Snowfire coughed, and scratched hishead. Thereisn‘t agreat dealI can addtothat statement, he saidawkwardly.Nightwind, pardon me for sayingthis, but you seem very - direct - for an Empath. Thek‘ValaEmpath was more - how should I put this? diplomatic.
Thek‘ValaEmpath isone of your Elders, shechuckled.Besides, you aren‘t theone whose emotionalturmoil is under discussion. I mightbemore diplomatic with you.
Get back to thesssubject, Kel grumbled,orrr thetwo of you will begin courrrting behaviorrr again, and I willhaveto sssprrreadthisssoilmyssself whileyou anteposssturrring.
Oh, excuseme,shemockedhim, dabbinga bit of oilon thetip of his beak in alightning-quick strokeof her brush. Sinceyou insist - now, you say he has Mage-Gift and was apprenticed to a rather ineffective village mage, but did not actually want to beamage? At hisnod, shepursedher lips. Again, I am goingto assumethat he liked his Master. So, his Master is of low status and meager ability. He has been bound to this man, regardless of his own preferences. And he has, no doubt, been told how grateful he should be for having been so bound. So - the message he has been given is that he is so worthless he is now forcibly associated with a low-status individual. Because they believe he obviously is incapable of making a logical decision, his own preferences are of no bearing on the situation. Because they tell him he is too ignorant to make his own choices, his future has been determined for him whether or not he likes it, and because he cannot understand why he should bepleasedand gratified with the situation, he isobviously morally andmentally deficient.
Starfall quotedtheShin‘a‘in about theroadto disaster,heobserved.
She massaged her temples with her fingers, looking pained. I knowthat one. Youknow, it is a very good thing that there are none of them available for me to strangle, for I would be very tempted to do so. I am also very tempted to suggest that what happened to that village seems very like a proper retribution for what they loaded upon this poor child! But, of course, that would be making a moral judgment basedon limited information, about another culture.
Andthat would be wrrrrong,Kel said, with an ironictilt to hishead.Ssso of courrrsseyou could not possssibly do that, unlesss it werrre sufficiently enterrrtaining.Thegryphon half-rumbled, half-burbled a laugh, and received a poke in the side in return.
Well, nowI have some clearer ideaof what I will probably be walking into when I go root him out of myekele,”Snowfire sighed.Mindyou, I haveno doubt thatthe boy isas fullof mischief as a gryphlet, is quite convinced that he knows better than any adult born, and is stubborn, willful, and rebellious. Just exactly as any other boy his age would be. Nevertheless, it seems to me that if these folk intended to create a situation designed to bring out the worst in him, they could not have been moreeffective.
That would bemy conclusion, Snowfire, Nightwind agreed, and dropped athistledown-soft kiss on hisforehead.Now, go and see what you can do to turn thechild around. You haveaknack for that which astonishes me. For someone who claims to have no ability as an Empath, you certainly handleyoung creatures well.
Let‘shope it isaknack, and not just astreak of good luck,he replied, and stood up. Andas for you, old bird,he continued, lookingtothe gryphon, I shouldthink a distraction would do him some good, and you arethe most distracting creature I can think of. Would you care to help me out with him?
Why not?the gryphon agreed genially. But - not immediately. I think he isss likely to indulge in morrre weeping, and I haveonly nowgotten my featherrrsss drry.
Vain bird,Snowfiretold him with mock severity, and took himself back down the path to his ekele, leaving Night-wind and Keltogether on the sunning rock.
Hehad no doubt that Kelwas waitingto get Nightwind‘s adviceabout howthe gryphon should handle the boy, and not for any specious reason about drying feathers. That was fine;they should, ideally, havedifferent approaches. After all, they couldn‘t bothplay elder brother. Let me see;

Starfallobviouslyisbetter suited to theroleof“respected elder” and when Darian sees thata mage is the highest statused person in our group, that might make him change his mind about magic. Nightwind maybewaiting to seeifheaccepts her as“mother surrogate” it would be better if he made that choice. I think he is a little too clever to accept her if she puts herself forward in that role, and I know she knows it could be trouble if she tried to force it on him. The gryphon being the gryphon, he willno doubt take the roleof “mysteriouswonder”or “entrancing enigma”and playhis appearance for all he can, to work in advice we could not give.

As he continued to plan out several possible approaches to take, he reached the door of his hut and carefully parted the curtain of vines. The boy was huddled up on his pallet with his face to the wall - and somewhatto Snowfire‘s surprise, theowl, who was normally rather aloof, had come down off his perch and was on the ground beside the boy with one wing stretched over him as if Hweel were sheltering a nestling.

The owl turned his head and fastened his great golden eyes on Snowfire as the Tayledras entered. Instead of words, Hweel Sent emotion, a complicated flavor of distress and protectiveness.
:Boy hurts. Inside, loss. Shelter lost, caring lost. Pain, but no blood.: Hweel finally articulated.
:I know,: Snowfire replied simply.:Illdo the best I can for him.:
Hweel relaxed immediately, as if certain, nowthat Snow-fire understood and had promised to help, that Snowfirecould solveallof theboy‘scomplicatedproblems. SometimesHweel‘s absolute trust in his bondmate‘s ability to solveany problem was asirritating as it wastouching, but Snowfire took great care never to convey that irritation.
Hweel relinquishedhisplaceon theboy‘spallet, waddlingover to belifted up to hisperch, and once the owl was back where he belonged, Snowfire took up the place Hweel had vacated. He touched Darian‘s shoulder carefully.
Dar‘ian,he said, quitecalmly. I cameto seeif you werefeeling any better.
His immediateanswer was a sniff, but Darian at least sat up. N-no, the boy replied, his voice hoarse.
Snowfire suppressed a chuckle, which would have been taken amiss. At least the lad is honest! I‘m sorryto hearthat;no onewantedto upset you, least of all Starfall. Heis quitepersonally distressed that you were made so unhappy by our questions; his last words to me werethat he is not accustomedto havingchildren run from him in tears.
Darian rubbed his reddened eyes and sniffed again, but looked up at Snowfire with mingled surpriseand disbelief. Why shouldhecare?It doesn‘t matter howI feel 
But it does, Snowfire interrupted. It matters agreat deal. Adept Starfallis a great favorite among the children of our Vale; he is accustomed to being liked for his kindness as well as respected for his wisdom, and it makeshim feel badly if someone ishurt by his actionsor words.
I‘m not worth worrying about,Darian mumbled, looking down at theground. There‘sno reason why heshouldthink about me. There‘sno reason why any of you shouldthink about me, you‘reall important people. You‘realltheseamazing warriorsandmages, you can do things that nobody back in Errold‘s Grovewould believe, and I‘m I‘m justtheworthlesstroublemaker nobody else wants.
Snowfirenodded to himself mentally asthe boy‘s words echoed what Nightwind had already surmised.
I‘m sorryto hear you say that, sinceI don‘t inthe least agree with you. Itruly hateto spoil a friendship by beginning it with aquarrel,hereplied lightly, and was rewarded onceagain with Darian‘sglance of dumbfounded astonishment.
Howcan you saythat?the boy asked, incredulously. There isn‘t anybody in Errold‘s Grove who‘d believetheir earsif they heardyou say that!
Why, what would theysay?Snowfireasked, ingenuously.
That that I‘m ungrateful, disrespectful, and I don‘t knowmy place,Darian said, in what was very nearly agrowl, turninghis gazeaway from Snowfire‘sface and back downtothe ground.
Snowfiremadeanoncommittal sound. And why wouldthey say that you‘re ungrateful?
Because after alltheeffort they‘vegoneto in order to make sure I had someoneto takecareof me, and havefood and shelter, andthetroublethey‘ve goneto in orderto seethat I was goingto learn a usefultrade, I‘m not grateful, andI don‘t knowmy place,Darianmuttered, hisvoicefullof resentment.
Snowfire shifted his weight, and took a more comfortable pose, giving himself time to think out his answer. It seemsto me,hesaid carefully,that you already had the grounding in a very good trade, that being the onethat your parents followed. It seems to me that - provided you liked that trade, of course - you could, with a little effort, have found someone else in that trade to take you as half-trained apprentice, and thus you would have supplied your own food, shelter, and Master. So I fail to see why they should think you should consider yourself beholden to them for what they did. After all, the choice of caretaker, lodging, and trade was theirs, not yours, and you had never asked them to undertake it on your behalf. If someone cooks food I do not care for and offers it to me when they knowI am not hungry, should I begratefulto them?
Somepeople wouldthink so,Darian replied, but hisspirits seemed alittlehigher.
He shrugged. Then some people are foolish, and that istheir problem, not mine, nor should it be yours. However, there is thisto consider; would any of their children, at your age, have been ableto do asyou wouldhave donehadthey waitedto let youtry?
No,headmitted.They‘d havebeen pretty helpless.They‘dhavehadto get arelativetotake careof em and sort thingsout forthem.
Then wouldn‘t it bereasonableto say that they weretaking careofthings for you astheir own children wouldhaveneededcare? Snowfire waited for Darian to make the next leap of logic.
I guess so. Darian didn‘t say anythingelse, but Snowfirecouldtellhe wasthinkingabout something.I hopeits thathecan see why theywould expect him to be grateful, even though he wasn„tobliged to feel gratitude. Poor lad. He was a tervardI being brought up by hertasi,who didn‘t understand why he wanted to live at thetops of trees instead of a nice, safe burrow deep in the ground. And hedidn‘t understand why he should be gratefulthat they kept giving him the room farthest from the exit!
Well, Snowfiresaid at last. Why wouldthey say you weredisrespectful?
Because I pretty much toldthem what you just did,Darian said with some wonderment, so surprised to hear his own thoughts echoingfrom Snowfire‘smouth that he was hardputto keep his eyes down on the ground.
Well, if youtoldthem in approximatelythe same wordsthat I used, I can understand being called disrespectful, Snowfirechuckled.Youmight consider cultivating amore diplomatic approach to avoid conflict inthe future. But what isthis about knowing your place‘?
Darian looked up at him from beneath apair of fiercely knitted eyebrows. I guess I wasn‘t humbleenough, hereplied. Old Justyn, he just let everybody treat him likethe wholevillage‘s servant, and I guess I was supposedto act thesame.
Really? Snowfire didnot let hisexpression of friendly interest slip. Perhaps, though, it wasn‘t that they treated Justyn as if he were a servant, but as if they had become so accustomed to his servicesthat they took him for granted?
Maybe.Darian‘sfierce expression eased a little. I supposethat was it. I guess when you do thingsfor people andthey get usedto you beingthere, it‘snaturalto kindof gettaken for granted.
Exactly true. Snowfirenodded calmly. That is why, from timetotime, our ValeHealer goes out into the deep Forest to meditate and refresh his spirit. When we have to do without him for a while, we notice again how much he does. Of course, if any of us wereto have a genuine emergency, he would return, but that rarely happens. When he comes back, he is invigorated by his rest, and we are properly appreciative of all he does. Now, that your Master did not do this is as much his own fault asthevillagers‘. Our Shin‘a‘in cousinshavea saying, To treat aperson like acarpet, it is necessary that one dothe walking, andone allowhimself to be walkedon.‘ 
Darian actually smiled a little, and rubbed his reddened nose with the back of hishand. That‘sa funny saying. But I guess I seethepoint.
It seemsto me, Snowfirecontinued, with perfect calm, thatthepeopleof your villagecould have used a deal more exposure to the wider world, and were stubborn and loud in their refusal to changetheir ways.
NowDarian laughedout loud. That‘s afunny thing for a Hawkbrother to say!hereplied. Hellfires, youpeoplenever even came out of the Forest till just a little bit ago! Most people thought youhadfeathers insteadof hair!
That would be the tervardi,not theTayledras, Snowfirechuckled.And again, thecousins say, It takesamuleto repeat amule‘s bray,‘ which isto say,theonemost likely to recognize afault is theone who suffersfrom the samefault. Hmm?
I guess so. Darian grew quiet and thoughtful, and Snowfire wondered if he had caught the second lesson - that a great deal of the trouble between himself and his guardians lay in the fact that neither of them caredto compromisethevisionthey hadfor Darian‘s future. A clue that he just might have came amoment later, when he askedplaintively, Do I haveto be amage?
That isa good question, Dar‘ian. Well, you havethe Gift, and it seemsreasonableto train it, so that it is at least under your control, Snowfirereplied judiciously. Having aGift is abit likehaving a very large and active dog. Think about the large dogs you have been around in your life, from pups to adults. If you do not train a dog to obey you what happens?
He jumpsallover people, steals whathe wants, maybe bites someone. Darian nodded, as ifthe analogy made sense to him.
But if he istrained, even if you do not go to the extent of traininghim for - say - pulling a cart, or searching for lost children, he will stay out of trouble. That is why you should at least train your Gift. Otherwise, likethe dog, it is likely to break loose and do something unanticipated, usually at a bad moment.
Darian sighed and proppedhis chin on hishand. It‘s justthat, beforeyou did that stuff with the bandage, I couldn‘t seemuch youcould do with magicthat you couldn‘t do with apair of hands.
Snowfire stretched and thought quickly. He needed to find something that would convince Darian to undertake real training, which would mean a great deal of hard work.
Well, in thelong run, you are correct. If I wish to knowsomething happening at adistance, I could work the magicto find it out, or I could go there and find it out for myself. If I needed to hide myself, I could work the magic to do so, or I could wear the correct clothing and learn to move without making a sound. Now - I could not call lightning by myself, for instance, but the Artificers of Valdemar have a powder that will certainly leave a large hole and make one think that lightning was called. So you are in the right of it. But - the black powder does not work in the rain, sometimes the right clothing still would not conceal a watcher, and it is not always convenient to go off on a journey to learn what is going on somewhere. Hespreadhishands wide. You see?It isgoodto know how to do things without magic, but it is good to know how to do them with magic as well. It gives you moreoptionsthan just oneortheother.
Justyn couldn‘t do much, Darian saidmeditatively.Magic, I mean. Something was wrong with hishead, he said, andhecouldn‘t do magic likehe usedto. I don‘t know.
That may have been asmuch theresult ofthemage-stormsas anything else, Snowfirereplied. With theway that magicwas scattered, he may not have had the power to do the things he used to and that may be why he lost some of the respect that he had in the past. And also - we do not know why, but a small number of mages were affected by the Storms. Some lost ability, some gained it . He may have been one of those who lost it, and that is hardly his fault. Do you fault a man for no longer chopping wood when hehas lost ahand?
But hefiguredout waysof doingthingsthat needed getting done, without magic!Darian protested.
Andthat is certainly to his vast credit, I have no argument with you. It is too bad that your villagers were so certain that something done by magical means is intrinsically more valuablethan something done any other way that they forgot that the value lies in the accomplishment, not how it was done. Snowfire decidedenough had been saidon that issue.Well, that, after all, ishowit is said that carnival sharpsters manage to separatethe gullible from their earnings, by accomplishing the ordinary with so much flash and tinselthat their victims forget that they are seeing nothing but a gaudy illusion overlaidonthe absolutely commonplace.
Darian looked so puzzled by that last remark that Snowfire reminded himself sharply that he was only dealing with a young lad, no matter how clever the boy sounded.
I don‘tknowwhat that means,the boy admitted honestly, impressingthe Hawkbrother even more.
It mattersnot, Dar‘ian, we cantalk about it another time. Wehavetimeto befriends. But for now  He led Darian, gently and by careful questions, to talk about his parents.
He discoveredthat Nightwindhad been correct about Darian‘s closeandaffectionaterelationship with his parents. He also learned that, as she had surmised, he still held to the hopethat they were still alive somewhere.
He saw no reason to disabuse the boy of that hope. Certainly his guardians had made that attempt, and failed, and after all, what harm did it do him? That hope had probably sustained him, rather than harming him in any way, and had helped him to keep his spirit intact. That was hardly a bad thing.
Finally he persuaded Darian to come out of the ekele, get something to eat, and continue answering questions.
You will feel better with ameal inside you,Snowfire assuredhim, ashe ledDariantothe centralcookingarea. I knowthat I alwaysdo. I would also likeyouto meet the rest of us one at a time, rather than facing allof us in a group. That cannot have been comfortable.
Darian avertedhis eyesfor amoment.It felt like - like I was in trouble again, and you - you people arepretty scary,hemurmured uncomfortably.
Snowfirementally beratedhimself for not seeingthat beforehand. I apologize, Dar‘ian, but that is how we always conduct our information-meetings. When people must know some crucial intelligence, we all cometogether to hear it and ask questions, then folk go off to think about the situation, then return sometime later to discuss possible strategies. You were not in trouble - but you werethe focus andthemost important part of themeeting.
Darian flushed, and Snowfire decided that the subject hadbetter be changed. Never mind,he said. Let‘s get food.Bythat timethey hadreachedthecook shelter, which had clay ovens constructed on the spot for baking, open fires with tripods for pots and spits for roasting small beasts and birds whole, and grills over coals for fish. Snowfire spotted the hertasi Ayshen taking fresh, hot bread from one of the ovens, and headed straight in that direction, for there was nothing he loved so much as hot bread. It was only when he noticed that Darian was no longer beside him that heturned to seethe boy staring at the little hertasi with an expression of horrified surprise.
Dar‘ian?heasked, puzzled.Issomething wrong?
Darian‘sface was aspale asa cloud. What - is that?he whispered, asif hewas afraid to make a sound lest the hertasi suddenly leap at him and rend him with claw and fang.
That isAyshen, a good friend of mine, anda wonderfulbaker,Snowfire said, decidingthat the best approach would be to be completely matter-of-fact about the hertasi. Did the Valdemarans have no hertasiin their land?Evidently not, judging by Darian‘spinched expression.Hismate Drusi makes a better stew, but no one can rival his bread, and his meat pies are worth suffering any hardshipto earn! Come, I‘llintroduceyou.
Darian could hardly hang back after that, and he trailed along after Snowfire with wide eyes and a set look of determination on hisface. Ayshen! Snowfirehailed. I am about to perish of famine, andour young friend Dar‘ian k‘Valdemar has not even had breakfast. Surely you can take pity on us and feed us!
Darian obviously understood none of this - probably not even his name, given that Snowfire had given it the Tayledras pronunciation - but he could not misunderstand the tone of friend-to-friend that Snowfire used. Nor could he misunderstand the similar tone with which Ayshen replied to this sally.
Shameon you, Snowfire. I thought thehatchling was in your charge! You are supposed to feed hatchlings, don‘t youknowthat? Areyoutryingto stunt his growth through starvation so that you will no longer bethe runt ofthispack of humans?Ayshen swiftly toreoneof thesteaming loavesin half, then tore each half in half, lengthwise. Onto two of the quarters he laid juicy slices of venison he carved from a roast over one of the fires, knife flashing in his blinding speed. Hetopped the meat with some mouth-watering concoction of his own, made of finely chopped herbs, wild garlic, and watercress from a set of nested simmering pots. Then he restored the top quarters of each, and handed one to each of them. Darian took his gingerly, unable to take his eyes from the hertasi‘s lizardlike face.
Ayshen was ak‘Leshya hertasi, and did not suffer from the painful shyness shared by all of the Pelagirs hertasi,includinghismate. So he wasneither offendednor alarmed by Darian‘sreaction.
The boy hasnever seen oneof us, eh?Ayshen chuckled.No worries. I mindmethetime I saw my first Haighlei; I thought my eyes would pop out of my head. To me, the idea that you humans hadhide colorsthat wildly different just set my brain afire. Heturnedto Darian, and clearedhis throat.
To hearth, bed, and bread, be welcome,hesaid in slowand uncertain Valdemaran.
Darian jumped, but held onto his meal with both hands, and made an awkward little bow. Thanks beto thekeeper of thehouse;my hand isat his service,he replied inthe formalmanner.
Ayshen chuckled. Tellhim he shouldn‘t have said that - I need a dishwasher today! You were on the roster, but with that bad arm, you can‘t lift pots. It‘sprobably why you got thewound, asan excuse.
Snowfireobediently translated, and a slowsmilecrept acrossDarian‘s face.I wouldn‘t mind - if hereally needsthehelp,the boy said shyly. I used to do allthe dishwashing for Justyn - and - I could pay you back alittle by taking your place.
The glance he gave Snowfire had more than a shadow of hero worship to it, but Snowfire knew howto dealwith that.If youhaveno problem in taking my place, I would be grateful,hereplied andmade aface.On the whole, I don‘t mind washing dishes;it‘spreferableto a lot of other camp chores that Iwontescape because of my bad arm. And I will miss out on the specialtreats Ayshen keeps for his helpers.
The ploy worked; he not only established that he was grateful to Darian for volunteering, but that the job of dishwasher brought with it some extra rewards.
It was arranged that Darian would report to Ayshen after the evening meal; with a bit of trial, they determined to both of their satisfaction that Ayshen could direct the boy with a bit of mime and a great deal of pointing.
That certainly went well, Snowfire thought with satisfaction, as he led Darian off in the direction of the dyheli grazing grounds. He is resilient, I must give him credit for that. Now that he has the conceptofnonhuman partners planted in hismind, Ill showhim thenext set.
* * *
Darian had hardly known what to think when he first sawthe hertasi cook, Ayshen. The creature had looked - at least at first - so very much like the horrible Thing that had been leading the enemy fighters!
But Snowfirehadn‘t been afraid of Ayshen, andthe hertasi himself had been very kind - as Ayshen had put together a lunch for the two of them, and as Darian had gotten over his fright enough to look closely at him, it was obviousthat he wasn‘t very much likethe enemyThing at all. Darian found himself volunteering to act as a dishwasher, and even more surprising, found himself looking forward to the task. At least now he would be able to accomplish something useful here!
It was so odd, though - feeling an urgent need to be useful.
So what‘s a hertasi,anyway?heasked Snowfirearoundamouthfulof bread.
They are, so we believe, oneof thecreationsofthat same great mage who ended the Mage Wars, Snowfirereplied.Asyou saw, they are descended from lizards, andthey sharemany characteristics with lizards. Cold sends them into a stupor, and extreme cold could kill or injurethem very badly. They act, more or less, as our helpers;they cook and clean for us, make clothing, act as the assistants for artisans - when they are not, themselves, artisans as well. In return, we give them the protection of our Vales and scouts and things that they need. They tend t o live in colonies, although they take single mates. They are one of the five nonhuman races that we Tayledras associate and work with.
Five? Darian couldhardly believeit. There arefivekinds of - of things that you have around your Vales?
As equal partners and helpers and not always in the Vales. The tervardi, or Bird-people, the kyree, or Fur-brothers, and the dyheli, or Straight-horns, usually live outside our Vales. The hertasi and the gryphons in our Vales entwinetheir lives with ours; the others live entirely separate lives from ours, and only become partners with us wherethere are specific tasks that are better done with all our peoples. Snowfire was so matter-of-fact about this - as if he were telling Darian howthe Hawkbrothers arranged to get things from traders, or worked with the Valdemaran Guard! Darian found his head swimming. First, two-legged, intelligent lizards, and nowthis!
In fact,Snowfire was continuing,we have dyheli with us as well as hertasi on this journey. They have volunteered, in token of their separate alliance with Valdemar, to act as our mounts and burden bearers. Selenay has offered, in light of the fact that they are grazers and most of the Pelagirs are forested, to sponsor colonies of dyheli into some of the unused grazing lands on the western border, and our dyheli are also along as scouts to investigate this possibility. We could say that, as grazers, they wish to find if the lands and available grassesandplants suit theirtastes.
Darian giggled atthewordplay. What - what do these dyhelilook like?Darian asked. I mean, I‘veheard stories, about someof thethings in Hawkbrother lands, but I‘venever seen any.
Snowfire smiled. That, my friend, you areabout to seefor yourself. Look there 
He pointed asthey came around another of the ubiquitous vine curtains - and there, in a sunny meadow, was a small herd of something vaguely like deer with ghostlike coloration of pale beige and cream.
At least, they had four legs, hooves, and two delicately curved, unbranching horns on their heads. But the heads themselves were much larger than that of a deer, the enormous brown eyes looked moreforwardthan adeer‘s did. Butthe biggest differencewas in theshapeof the skull; asmall and delicate muzzle, comparatively speaking, but an elongated cranium, something that could easily contain abrain the sizeof aman‘s.
As he and Snowfire stood at the edge of the clearing, every dyheli head came up, the humans were examined closely, but swiftly, and then every dyheli head came down again, back to the important business of grazing.
Darian blinked at them in awe; he was no stranger to the concept of an intelligent, four -legged creature. After all, he was anativeof Valdemar, andyou‘dhaveto havethe brains of a wheel of cheese not to know all about Companions. But these creatures were so - different.
Dotheytalk?heasked in a whisper.
Not likethe hertasido, camethereply. The dyheli speak mind-to-mind. Some of us find it difficult to speak to them, as some of us are better at Mindspeech with nonhumansthan others. Snowfire smiled down at him. I happen to beoneofthe lucky ones;I find it as easy to speak with them as I do with you. Easier, in fact, for I am not translating into a foreign tongue.
Darian turned his attention back to the dyheli.I wonder if I could learn to talk to them,he mused out loud.
:Why not simply try?:
Because I don‘t knowif I can  he began, then realizedthat Snowfirehadnot spoken aloud.
In fact, the voice he had heard had been entirely in his mind - and had notbeen Snowfire‘s.
One of the dyheli had raised his head again, and was walking toward them, his eyes centered on Darian.The delicatecreaturehadno expressionto read, butthevoice in Darian‘shead was warm and amused. :It is a great advantage to speak this way, little brother,: the dyheli stag said to him. :It requires no translators, and it is very, very difficult to lie or be lied to. It tends to make all things level, as it were.:
Darian stared upintothe stag‘shuge, brown eyes, and didn‘t realizethat he washolding his breath until his lungs began to ache. Belatedly, hetook a gasping breath of air, as Snowfire chuckled at his expression.
Tyrselltendsto bea bit moredirectthan I do,hetold Darian. I wouldhave waitedto test you for Mindspeech, but his approach is to simply try it and see if you can Hear him. Well - I supposethis means that now I shall have to teach you to use that Gift 
:Oh, not immediately; his natural shields are good enough to hold for now,: the stag replied lazily.:And if itcomes to that, Im asgood a teacher asyou are. Better,maybe Ivehad more practice at it.:
Areyouvolunteering? Snowfire asked, as Darian felt his mind reeling under this latest revelation.
:Why not? The boy could use a competent teacher,: the stag replied teasingly. :Actually, and more honestly, young Darian, you need a teacher with a little less to attend to than our friend Snowfire. I have more time to spare than he.:Thestag lifted hisheadto look up into Snowfire‘sface. :But, I think, Snowfire, that it would be a good thing if you let me give Darian your language now. It would be better for him if he did not require a translator.:
Then, for severalmoments, thestag and Snowfire looked into each others‘ eyes, and Darian sensed that they were exchanging words that hecouldn‘thear. Snowfirewas frowning, as if he didn‘t agree with what was being said. Finally, though, theHawkbrother sighed and nodded.
Dar‘ian,he said carefully,I was going to work a very small magic that would allowyou to understand our tongue - but as my friend and herd leader has just reminded me, he can do the same thing without magic, and with fewer problems. But - there are somethings that will also happen that you might considerproblems.
Like what? Darian askedimmediately. Having peopletalkingover hishead and not being able to understand them had been making him very frustrated, although he had been too polite to say anything.
It might hurt a little. It will definitely bea shockto your system. Youmight get someof his memories as well, or mine, since he will be taking the language of the Tayledras from my mind. They‘d probably crop up in your dreams, and they might be disturbing. You already knowthat I am used to fighting. My friend is also a warrior hehasto be, or hecouldn‘t leadtheherd- and he knows howto usehis weapons. Snowfire glancedat the dyhelfs horns significantly.
I don‘t care I mean, I‘dreally likeit if hecould dothat,Darian said quickly. Just at the moment, the ideathat he might finally be able to understand all the people chattering around him made him almost sick with longing.
:Then look into my eyes, young one,: the dyheli commanded, and without another thought, Darian obeyed.
Time slowed, then stopped.
He cameto himself lying flat on the grass, gazing up at the blue sky, feeling very much as if someone had kicked his feet out from underneath him.
I did warn you,Snowfire said, holdingout ahandto help him up - and as Darian took it and clambered clumsily to his feet, lightning flashes and glitter dancing in his eyes, he suddenly realized that the language had not been Valdemaran.
So you did,he agreed, and to his delight, he realized a moment later that he had replied in the Hawkbrother tongue without thinking about it. He felt the back of his head gingerly, but the ground had been nicely cushioned with grass, and there was no knot on his skull, which was a good thing. He did have a headache, though, which felt as if someone had taken the top off his skull, looked inside, stirred the contents up a bit, and then replaced the skull top and left him lying in the grass.
Areyou quite allright? Snowfire asked him, with concern.
I think so, but I‘ve got aheadache,headmitted ashe rubbed histemples. It doesn‘t seem to wantto go away.Then herealizedthat hehadnot yet thankedTyrsell, andheflushed.
Thank you verymuch, sir, he said,turning hastily to the waiting dyheli,and bowinga little. I hopeI don‘t sound as if I‘m complaining, becauseI‘m not! Being ableto understandpeople  He groped for words.
:Being able to understand people will prevent you from feeling like such an outsider,: the stag said smoothly. :You have quite enough troubles without that added to your burden. Being able to understand their words will help you to understand them. And you are quite welcome; be sure to come to me when you have time for a lesson in Mindspeech. Until then, I hope you learn to enjoy being among us. It is the way of a herd to encompass and support.:
Darian said that he would, reflecting that at least a dyheli would not be able to smack his fingers with a rod like theWidow Clay who had taught him his letters had. The stag nodded and moved back toward his herd, flowing over the grass in a way that hardly resembled walking.
Darian steadied himself against Snowfire for a few long minutes. His head felt compressed, twisted, and then expanded again to a size larger than his skin could hold. There were words for things he had never seen inside his mind now, and images associated with rituals and crafts, and trees and plants, and women and men, and clothing and tools, and names for all of them. Th ere were even some images of things he did not wantto understand, and afewthat he didn‘t think hewas quiteold enough for. There were even names for tastes he had never tasted, and feelings his body had never known. Darian would have felt disassociatedand frightenedenough to scream, if it weren‘t forthe effect of hopeful wonderment these new words were having upon him. So many great things had now touched him, and were a part of him, and there was a spark inside him - nowthat he had names, he wanted to learn the meanings.
Well, if youhaveaheadache, Snowfiresaid gently after afewminutes, then this will be a good excuse to go find Nightwind and introduce you to the third species that is with us on this expedition. Snowfirepattedhim onthe shoulder and rubbed at Darian‘s back a bit, companionably. Nightwind can get you asoothing-potion, and you can meet Kelvren.
Who‘s Kelvren?Darian asked, both curious anda little apprehensive. His headachehad subsided from the worst disorientation, and hetried to remember what the other non-human races were that Snowfire had mentioned. One was kyree, and one was tervardi
Oh, Ithink you‘ll likehim agreat deal,Snowfire said with a chuckle. Though youmustn‘t let him intimidateyou. He won‘t try to intimidate you, it is simply that sometimes, his people do, just by being themselves. Kelvren is a gryphon.
Five
Snowfirehad been struck speechless when TyrsellofferedtogiveDariantheTayledras language. Just what is he planning, here? he asked himself - not with any suspicion that Tyrsell intended any kindof wrong, but becauseof what that gift would entail. For onething, Snowfire certainly hadn‘t expectedthe dyheli to make any such offer, and for another, it was definitely an offer of far more than appeared on the surface.

:Whatdo you thinkyouredoing?: he asked the stag.:Not thatthisisn„ta greatdealmore expedient, but the boy has no idea what this is going to mean to him!:
:That is precisely why I suggested it,: Tyrsell replied calmly, blinking as lazily as if he had suggested a change of grazing spots. :In this case, it is quite true that although what he does not know about whatwellhaveto do is notgoing to hurthim, whathedoesntknowabout theMind-Gifts is, and if by taking a few shortcuts we can keep his own budding abilities from harming him and, not so incidentally, us wheres thewrong?:
:The wrong is in the deception,: Snowfire told him severely.:Youredeceiving him into thinking this is something very simple.:
:Whatdeception? Hewontcareabout whatwehave to do to putthe knowledgein hismind, hes only interested in the results.: Tyrsell, as was the case with most of the dyheli, had a slightly different perspective on morality than humans did. To Snowfire‘smind, this wasoneof thetwo-edged swords of being allies with nonhumans. Dyheli focused on expediency, hertasi sawno harm in meddling in private affairs because hertasihadno such thing as aprivateaffair, and gryphons were downright bloody-minded at times.
:And he is rightly concerned only with results, too,: Tyrsell continued. :We know that the fact is thatwellhave to establish linksand shieldsin order to getthat knowledge into him, but thatsofno concern to him. He could care less, and since those links and shields are not only not going to harm him, butareactuallygoing to help him, I think thatthe fact that we„II have to putthem in place without his actual consent is irrelevant.:
Snowfire couldn‘t put into words why heobjectedto the dyhelishigh-handed assumption that mucking about with someoneelse‘smind didn‘t matter as long astheresults were good - but he Sent his feelings about it as forcefully as he could.
Tyrsell remained calm, switching his tail to ward off sometroublesome flies as he continued to bombard Snowfire with impersonal logic, his eyes warm and serene above the dark cheek-stripes that made his face look like a painted mask.:Lets lookat this from theposition ofefficiency. Can you really afford the time, effort, and energy it would take to give him the language magically? Of course not. Can you keep shepherding him around and translating forhim? Thatsequallyabsurd. Can you explain to him what links and shields arein a wayhe„II understand rightnow, given thatyou arenot only working with someone who doesnthave theunderstanding of Mind-Gifts, but are having to translate from your language to his? Not a chance. So, by doing this, you free yourself for other work, you give him some much-needed autonomy, and you keep him from being overwhelmed if his Gift of Mindspeech suddenly decides to develop. What would you, what could you do if it decided to flower overnight at a time when you were off on a scouting sortie o r trying to fend off those barbarians? Expect Winterskyto take careofit? Hes barely into controlling his own Mindspeech as it is! Leave it to Stariall? And just how is he supposed to hold the matrices at the same time? Nightwinds Mindspeech is rudimentary; shehasnt the tools to teach a beginner. And who else is there he will trust?:
Snowfire frowned, but he had to admit that Tyrsell was right. :You come perilously close to amorality,: he told the dyheli.
:Never. My morality is just that of the herd, that the herd is more important than a single member; and when it comesto it, yourmorals are the same. Didn„tyou just say that ifit would save the world fromanother Ma„ar, you wouldnthesitate to sacrificeyourselfand theboyand anyone else?: Tyrsell held his head up and looked Snowfire right in the eyes, challenging him stallion to stallion, daring him to deny what he had told Starfall not more than a fewmoments ago.
:Isaid, Id sacrificevolunteers- : he replied weakly, but Tyrsell had him, and they both knew it. :You win,: he admitted. :This time.:
:And next time, you may.: Now that the challenge was over, Tyrsell was perfectly amiable again. :Dont worrysomuch aboutwinning arguments, my friend. Concentrateon keeping theherd intact and in good health.:
Darian was pathetically eager to have the ability to understand those around him, and from the little Snowfire could sense from him, he would have been willing to get it at almost any cost. That soothedhis rawconscience a little. After he‘d given his immediate consent, the boy waited expectantly, eyes focusedonTyrsell‘s, for themagicto happen.
:Get ready to catch him,: the dyheliwarned, andreached out to seizetheboy‘smind. This was the greatest Gift the herd leaders had; the abilit y to overwhelm any mind not heavily shielded - and many that were - without any damage to that mind whatsoever. This was how a herd leader could guide his frightened followers to safety when they were hysterical with terror and unable to think or reason. He could seize as many as a dozen minds at once or even more, and use those he controlled to guide the rest of the herd behind him. Dyheli never seemed to resent this, perhaps because herd morality was as deeply a part of them as individuality was for Tayledras. This was howthe herd leaders were chosen. Instead of grappling horn-to-horn as their distant ancestors had, they fought mind-to-mind, and the strongest mind, or the one with the most endurance, won the right to father the next generation and guide t his one.
A moment later, Snowfire caught the child as he collapsed, all his joints suddenly gone loose, every muscle limp. He laid Darian down carefully in a spot of sun on the grass, and lowered all his own shields, joining his mind as intimately to Tyrsell‘sas he ever hadto Hweel‘s. More so, perhaps, since that melding was so natural a part of adyhelismind.
With the two of them working as one, the speed with which they built temporary shields around Darian‘smind was literally that ofthought.Then Snowfire formed a deep link to Darian belowthe level of thought itself, so deep that the boy would never know it was there, and never detect any difference in the way hefelt.Whileheheldthat link wide open,Tyrsellwent to work on Snowfire‘s memories. The herd leader extracted, not only the language of the Tayledras, but the knowledge of the language, andplaced it carefully into the boy‘sown memories, building it up from the level just above instinct, the way that a baby learns. Now Darian would not h ave to think to translate - he would have the Tayledras tongue as if he had been bilingual from his very first word.
In thisfashion,Tyrsell‘s way was infinitely betterthan thespell and Mindtouch that Snowfire had used to learn Valdemaran. Snowfire made a mental noteto one day ask Darian - oncethe boy really knew what he was consenting to - to allowTyrsellto reverse the process, and give Snowfire such a sure knowledge of the language of Valdemar.
Tyrsell was swift and certain; there was something about the way that adyhelismind worked that (when they hadTyrsell‘sparticular Gifts) madethem instinctive geniuses at laying in language- paths. Inthetime ittook Snowfire‘shearttotakethree, slowbeats, Tyrsell was done. He withdrew his mind first, leaving Snowfire to close all but the deep-link path behind him, and setting the shields he had laid in place to fade as the boy took over his own shielding needs. Darian would hear and understand any deliberate Mindtouch on the part of any dyheli or Tayledras, but no one could force his mind open, or really do anything other than talk with him. And Darian would never hear unwanted thoughts intruding on him if his ability to Mindhear suddenly became morethan the closerange, rudimentary ability he had now.
As Snowfirewithdrewand made someswift observationsof theboy‘spotential Gifts, he realized that such athing was far more likely than he had thought when Tyrsell first proposed this operation. Perhaps it was the sheer number of traumasthat the boy had passed through, but - well, going abruptly from normalto wide open was avery realpossibility.
And it was a good thing that Snowfire had the deep-link in place. At that level, he would not eavesdrop onthe boy‘sprivatethoughts, but he would know if Darian was in distress, he would know if any of the boy‘spotentials suddenly opened up, andhe would beableto track Darian if he somehow got separated from the Tayledras encampment.
Tyrsell had certainly noticed the samethings, and very diplomatically didnot sayItoldyou so. :A neat piece of work,: was all he said, and about that moment, the boy awoke - probably with a splitting headache. Still, Snowfire thought, not without sympathy, the spell would have given him as bad a headache, and maybe worse.
Darian‘swords and actions confirmedthat diagnosis, but he stillremainedpolite enough despite the pain to thank Tyrsell for his efforts. Snowfire noted with pleasurethat he spokeT ayledras with the unconscious ease of a native.
Tyrsell lost all interest in the boy now that the work was complete; that, too, was typical of dyheli,and because Snowfire was usedto it, hewasn‘t at alloffended. Darian wastoo preoccupied with his headache to notice what could have been considered very rude behavior, but was really only more dyheliexpediency.
But the boy all but forgot the pounding in his skull when Snowfire told him that he was about to meet a gryphon.
A gryphon? Darian asked incredulously, his eyes lighting up with absolute delight. Areal gryphon? Here?
A real gryphon,Snowfiretold him, smiling alittleat his wide eyes. Nightwind isonly incidentally acting asour Healer;her main job isto beKelvren‘s trondiirn.” Since that word was not Tayledras, but Kaled‘a‘in, andnot part of the language asDarian hadlearned it, Snowfire explained it.A trondiirn is a special attendant for nonhuman creatures, although usually it is only the gryphons who need such help. They do all the things that the gryphons cannot - it is very difficult for gryphons to manage fine manipulations with talons, for instance - and they take care of the little ailments that nonhumans fall prey to. Because they understand these things so well, if they are attending to only one nonhuman, they often double asthe Healers for small expeditions such as ours. Back in thetimes of long ago, atrondiirn would often manage the needs of a very large group of gryphonsor other nonhumans, butthat isno longer the case.
Darian nodded earnestly, but it was very obvious that his mind was not on Nightwind and her duties. Ishereally as big asthey say?heasked eagerly. Ishereally as big as ahouse? Can he really fly?Does he eat wholehorses in a bite?
Snowfire chuckled. Oh, gryphons arenot as largeas allthat, but ifthey spread their wings wide, I think it is safe to say that their wingspan is easily as big or bigger than a house. And although they do not eat whole horses in one bite, they do eat quite a lot. Kelvren has to do a great deal of hunting to keep himself supplied with meat.
Can hetalk?Darian askednext, practically skipping in eagernessto seethemarvel. WillI hear himthinkingat me likeTyrsell?
No, he speaksTayledrasvery well, although hetendsto have what we callagryphonicaccent.‘ You‘ll see whatthat means in alittle. Snowfirepattedthe boy‘sshoulder. Hereally is looking forwardto meeting you.
By this time they had wound their way back to the clearing, and as Snowfire made that last statement, a deep voice spoke from the shelter of a shadowy bower immediately ahead of them.
Ah, but issstheyoung gentleman quiteprrreparrredto meet me?
A deeper shadow rose out of the rest, and strolled forward into the sunlight, then posed perfectly in the best possible light. Kelvren looked truly magnificent, and knew it.
Darian‘seyes widened, andhestared at Kelvren with allthefascination of a Kaled‘a‘in messenger-bird with a shiny new toy.
Darian had not yet gotten used to the wonder of being able to talk to Snowfire in the Hawkbrother tongue without having to think about it, when a deep, resonant voice speaking out of the shadows just ahead of them captured all of his attention. He and Snowfire were standing in a rare patch of brilliant sun in the middle of the clearing that he had been t aken to for the meeting; ahead of them, the shadows were so deep and black by contrast that he might have been peering into a well. When he tried to make out who or what was speaking, the contrast defeated him.
Ah, saidthevoice, arumbling bass with odd overtones,but issstheyoung gentleman quite prrreparrred to meetme?”
A moment later, part of the darkest shadow detached itself from the rest, and moved forward into the sun. And although it was not as big as a house, it was entirely large enough to satisfy Darian.
The creaturethat moved into the sunlight was a glistening golden brown with a hint of metallic gold at the edges of each of his perfectly-defined feathers. His head, broad and handsome, with jaunty ear-tufts, had a definite eagle look about it, and at a guess, the folded wings would easily span the length of a house, if not more. Both front and rear feet ended in formidable talons, each as long as Darian‘shand. He sporteda wide leather collar adorned with delicate scrollwork attachedto an equally handsome body-harness with a chest-plaque, the front yoke of which had a matching leather pouch attached. As he stared down at Darian, looking every bit as haughty and regal as Darian could have wished, hetook theboy‘s breath away. He was, in every way, a wonder, and Darian could not havetaken hiseyesoff of him iftheearth had fallen away beneaththe boy‘sfeet.
Oncehehad comefully into the sun, thegryphon didn‘t move, which wasprobably just as well. Darian‘sheart was pounding with excitement, and he had a shivery feeling as he looked at that huge beak and those cruel talons that his excitement could easily turn to fear.
I think you‘vemadea conquest, Kel, Snowfire laughed, his eyescrinklingat thecorners with merriment.
Asss it ssshould be,thegryphon replied, raising hishead a bit higher with such unconcealed vanity that Darian, too, was startled into a laugh. And the gryphon joined in their laughter, proving that he was not unaware of his vanity and the absurdity of it.
Darian, this is Kelvren Skothkae, who is an unranked gryphon-scout of thefullk‘Vala gryphon- wing, Snowfiretold him, hiseyes sparkling.Kel, this isDar‘ian Firkin k‘Valdemar.
Unranked? Kelvren replied, cocking hisheadto oneside speculatively. Perrrhapsss now - but I think ourrr wingleaderrr had bessst look to hisss posssition, or think about rrretirrring. I intend to make agrrreat name forrr myssself on thisss expedition.
You‘vecertainly said so often enough, Snowfireteased, and Kelvren snapped playfully in his direction, then turned his head pointedly toward Darian, pretending to ignore Snowfire.
The boy found himself the focus of those huge, piercing eyes, and suddenly understood why rabbits froze when hawks caught sight of them.
And whatthink you of ourrr littlefamily?the gryphon asked. Arrrewe allyou hadthought we would be, when youthought of Tayledrrrasss?
More, Darian was ableto say honestly, and with unfeignedenthusiasm. I I think that you‘re all just - just unbelievable!He shook hisheadcarefully, to avoid makingtheheadache any worse. Andyou, sir, you‘re just likeseeing an amazingtale comeright to lifein front of me! I never thought I‘d ever get to seearealgryphon in my whole life, and I never, ever, thought a gryphon would be as - as as wonderfulas you are!
Rrreally?the gryphon purred, and Darian couldtellthat he wasvery pleased. Heeven preened a little.Well. Thank you! I hopeI can jussstify that impresssssion.
You couldprovehowgreat atracker youareby finding Nightwind, Snowfire suggested, with a twitch of his mouth that showed he was trying hard to keep from laughing.
Pah, that takesssno trrracking, Kelvren replied dismissively.You will findherrr at thepool, wherrre I left herrr. I believe ssshe is waiting forrr you and wissshesss to ssseethisss obssserrrvant young brrrancherrr.
Andyou? Areyoucoming with us?Snowfireasked.
I am ssstarrrved, and if we arrreto underrrtakethat sor-rrtie tonight, I mussst eat now ssso I am crrroplight but enerrrgizsssed.Withthat, thegryphon spreadhis wings, which wereeven larger than Darian had imagined; as Snowfiretook Darian‘s shoulder andpulledthe boy back to theedgeof the clearing, Kelvren made one or two experimental wingbeats that sent wind whipping around both of them.
Then, leaping grandly into the air with a thrust of his wings that was vastly more powerful than his trial, the gryphon took off, creating a veritable whirlwind within the confines of the clearing, and sending dust and stray leaves surging into the sky in his wake.
Darian stared after him with his mouth dropping open in amazement. Wings pumping rhythmically, the gryphon surged up abovethe treetops, then vanished above the foliage.
Snowfire laughed, then pattedhim onthe shoulder. He didthat for your benefit, youknow,the Hawkbrother said with amusement.Hecould very easily have goneto themouth ofthevalley and taken off from there. In fact, it would have taken him a lot less effort - but gryphons seem to love to impress an audience, andyouaretheonly oneof us who isn‘t usedto seeing him takeoff and land. I wouldn‘t bethe least bit surprised if hetriesto find out whereyou are beforehecomesin for a landing, and arranges to make adramaticentrancein front of you.
Areall gryphons likethat? Darian asked, still dazzled.
Most of them; endlessly cheerful, considerably vain, but abletomake fun ofthemselves. Oh, and beautiful, of course, but we try not to say that too oftenin frontof them;they‘reconceited enough as it is,Snowfirechuckled, his shoulders shakinga little.
Darian‘seyes beganto water from staring so long into thebright blueofthe sky, andhis head throbbed in protest. He moved quickly back into the shadows, and Snowfire must have noticed the grimaceof pain hecouldn‘t repress, forthe Hawkbrother gesturedhim to takeaparticular path leading out of the clearing and set off down it himself. Darian followed him willingly now, recalling that Snowfire had said something about Nightwind having some way of getting rid of that pounding ache.
The way that the paths heretwisted and turned around little groves and vine-covered huts and tiny water gardens made him very confused, and made this place seem much larger than it probably actually was. It was very bewildering, and Darian had quite lost his way when they came out into sunlight again, at the side of the smaller of two pools of water. This was clearly the end of the valley; a short, cliff cut out of the rocks of the hills rose beforethem, with steep, tree-covered slopes on either side. A spring emerged from the rock at the base of the cliff, feeding the two pools and a stream which led from them into the tangle of the Tayledras encampment. One of the pools was considerably smaller than the other, being just large enough for - say - a gryphon to bathe in.
Thisis whereyou will bathe, Snowfire said, pointingto thesmaller pool. You seethesluice there? Lift the lever when you are done, and the dirty wat er will drain away - then drop it, and lift that lever, andnewwater willflowintothepoolfrom that larger one. Don‘t worry about tryingto find bathing things. Just come here and start to undress; a hertasi will see you and there will be soap and towels beside you before you are finished disrobing. Your clothing will disappear as if by magic, and clean clothes will be waitingfor you when you are done bathing.Snowfire smiled at hisexpression of surprise. Nowyou see why wehatetotravelwithout our hertasifriends.
I dunno,Darian said dubiously, looking down at thepool andthen out at the springthat fed it. It looksawfully cold. Of all thethings he hated most, he hated cold baths - which was mostly all he got, since everybody else in the village had precedence over him at the bathhouse.
Ah, I forget you cannot heat your water with magic or can you? Snowfire lookedat him quizzically.
He shook hishead, and regretted doing so almost at once, as hisheadprotested. Not that Justyn ever taught me,hereplied.
Well, can you call fire?theHawkbrother persisted. At Darian‘scautiousnod, he looked satisfied. It isthesame, only spread out over the water and not concentrated on the kindling. I would ask youto try it, but I think youhad better wait untilI find whereNightwindhasgone.
He peered around the clearing, and then left Darian to nurse his head beside the pool while he went off to investigate some of the places at this end of the valley that were not immediately visible. Darian stared at the surface of the pool and wondered why on earth Justyn had never taught him how to heat water. It would have made a great many winter baths more bearable.
Butmaybehedidnt knowhow, Darian told himself, trying to be fair. I mean, it could be that only theHawkbrothersknowabout this sortof thing. Itisntall thatlogical to thinkyou can use the same magic that calls fire to heat up water fireand waterareopposites, right? Somaybe itwasn„t his faulthedidn„tknow.
Just then, Snowfire appeared, parting thetrailing branches of a huge willow, and holding them aside to let Nightwind pass through them. Of all of the Hawkbrothersthat Darian had seen thus far, she wastheonly one who didn‘t have snow-white hair, or hair dyed in patterns of pale cream and various shades of brown. Her hair was as black asaraven‘sfeather, and she wore it in aheavy knot at the nape of her neck, with little wisps escaping from it. Her eyes, set under a pair of brows as curved as a falcon‘s wings, werea darker bluethan theothers, andher skin was just afewshades duskier. Her clothing was a bit different, too; nothing he could put a finger on, since he hardly cared what he wore from one day to the next, but something he definitely noticed - and on the breast of her tunic was a peculiar silver badge, rather like the wings and head of a bird of prey. He thought perhaps he had seen it before, and then he realized that he had - in the center of the chest pieceof Kelvren‘s harness.Perhaps it signifiedthat they weren‘t actually Hawkbrothers, but were - his newmemories supplied the word Kaledain.
She had a basket over one arm, and a friendly smile on her lips, and held out one hand to him which hetook in reflex.I don‘t knowif yourecallmefrom last night, she said, her speech betraying a faint accent, as opposed to the way his new memoriestold him that Tayledras should sound. I‘m Nightwind, in caseyou‘veforgotten orthisruffian forgot to mention my name, and I understand you have one demonrendingheadache.
Well,hesaid, feeling suddenly shy.It doeshurt.
I can certainly understandthat, she replied, and put her basket down to take his face in both hands, turninghis eyesinto thelight and examiningthem. Yes, indeed, I can certainly understand that. However, I think I havea remedy for you;it‘lltastevile, but it will work.
She letgo of himto rummage in her basket, ashehadto laugh a littleat her honest directness. I likeyour claim betterthan Justyn‘s;healways saidthat hispotions wouldn‘t taste that bad, and the morehesaidthat, theworsethey‘dtaste.
You can do thatto younglings afewtimes beforethey stop believingyou, andthen you‘ll never get them to taketheir medicine, shereplied, holding up astopperedclay bottle with a littlefrown. I always saythings willtasteworsethan they do, andthen they‘realways surprised; followthat up with a honeycandy or a bit of other sweet, andthey taketheir doses without much of afuss. She pausedto uncork thebottleand sniff.This iswhat I want. Shelooked at him and smiled. Areyou going to need a sweet after yourdose?
Not unlessthat stuff isgoingto linger in my mouth all day,hereplied, as manfully ashecould.
Not after a good drink of cold water. Shehandedhim the bottle.Take a good stout mouthful and swallowit fast.
He held his breath, braced himself, and did ashewas told. The stuff wasn‘t as bad as some of Justyn‘spotions, many of which seemedto contain mycofoetida, but it was very strong-tasting, more sour than bitter, with an astringent bite. He swallowed it before he had a chance to gag, and found she was holding out a cup full of water, ready to exchange it for her bottle. He drained it, and passed it back to her; she tucked it and her bottle back into her basket.
Well? sheasked. Howbad was it?
Not as bad asI thought, but - gleah! Nothing I‘d drink for pleasure.Heshuddered. Howdid youmakethat stuff, anyway? Justyn always brewed teas andtisanes.
Thisistea concentrated, so one swig is as goodas acupful, shetold him. These concentrated versions haveto be pretty fresh, but things like the headache potion are needed often enough that they‘re used up beforethey go weak. I also makesomepreparations - distillations as well as decoctions with spiritsof wineasthecarrier, butthosetendto bevery powerful.
And,Snowfire addedhelpfully, they taste so much worsethat noneof us ever want to drink them unless we absolutely haveto.
I Ithink I‘d liketo learn howyou makethem,Darian said, alittle surprised at himself, and feeling his ears heat up asthey reddened with embarrassment. Maybe I can help.
Then I‘d be happy to showyou,Nightwind promised, looking abit surprised at him herself. I always like to have extra medicine on hand, and I never have enough time to make allthat I want. Now, I want youto sit down for amoment untilthat medicinetakes effect. I don‘t think you‘llhave an unusual reaction, but it‘s better to wait amoment and see.
Darian obeyed, although he didn‘t expectto feel anythingmorethan hedid with Justyn‘s medicines. He just hoped this potion would make some of the pain go away quickly, without slowing him down too much. Justyn‘spotions generally didn‘t do too much unlesshedrank so much he went fromsickto asleep without much warning. At themoment, it felt as if someone inside his skull was trying to pound his way out.
Look  Snowfiresaid, pointing up at the sky. There‘sa gyre; it must beoneof ours, it‘stoo big to beoneof thewild ones aroundhere.
Darian followed his pointing finger, squinting, until he made out the gray-and-white bird against the gray-and-white clouds, a dot moving so fast that Darian wondered how Snowfire could tell it was a forestgyre, much lessthat it was bigger than thewild ones. Arethe wild ones aroundyour Vale as big asthe bondbirds?he asked with surprise.
Most of them are bondbirds or of bondbird stock, anyway, Snowfirereplied, stillwatching the bird, shadinghis eyes with hishand. There are usually far morebirds aroundtheValesthanthere are people to bond with, because we need a large breeding pool of each species to keep the stock healthy. The adult birds are polite to us, though rather standoffish, unless as adults they decide that they want to bond rather than continuing to be wild. Sometimesthat happ ens, especially in the larger species, like eagle-owls and hawk-eagles  He winced. And, Goddess help us, bondbird eagles themselves. We have two species of eagles that are bondbirds, the Black and the Golden, and a colormorph of the Golden that looks red they almost never bleach out white, sinceI‘venever known an Adept-class mage to fly one. Not too many people of any sort fly eagles for that matter; not too many can carry one. They aren‘t asgreatly oversized, proportionately, as the smaller species - bondbird merlins are about the size of wild tiercel peregrines, just as an example - but they are very, very big and heavy. There is one, and I mean onek‘ValaTayledras who fliesa Black eagle, andhe‘sthe blacksmith. That should tell you something.
Darian thought aboutthe shoulderson the smith at Errold‘s Grove, andhowmuch hecould carry and lift, andnodded solemnly. Hetriedto picture carrying a bird bigger than Hweel, and couldn‘t. It must be like carrying a barrel of flour on your shoulder, hethought. Howdoes someone get a bondbird, then?he asked curiously. Not that hethought he‘d ever get one, but it wasmorelikely than being Chosen by a Companion.
Either an adult picksyouout, or, moreoften, the adult parentspick you asthebondmate for one of their offspring. If the adults are bonded to someone, they let that person know who the eyas is going to, and if that person has experience with downy baby birds, very often they co -parent with the eyas‘snewbondmate. If not, they wait untilthe littleoneis fledged, and leadhimto you.Snowfire turnedhis attention fromthesky to smileat Darian.That‘showI got Hweel;he blundered down out of a tree behind his parents, landed tail over head, fluffed all his feathers, and told me with the solemnity of aKal‘enedralthat he was ready for me.
Doesanybody havemorethan onebondbird? Darian asked, wishinghecouldhave seenthat moment.
Sometimes. Oneof ushasan owl and amerlin for day and night scouting, I knowof someone with a whole flock of ravens, and there are others. And sometimes your bondbird‘smatemay decide she wantsto bond with you,too. Snowfireraised an eyebrow. Hweel says his mate isconsidering it, bonding with me, that is.
Hweel has amate?Darian replied, feeling oddly excited atthe idea, though he didn‘t know why. Where isshe?
Back at theVale, teachingtheyoungster to hunt. I wouldn‘t have left if there were stillyoung in the nest, but by the time we were ready to go, the young one was fledged. Eagle-owls lay their eggs in deep winter;they‘rehatched andfledged by thetimemost birds are goingto nest, andoncethey‘reno longer in thenest, they don‘t needtheir father unlessthere‘smorethan oneto teach to hunt. Snowfire crossed his arms over hischest, and gave Darian ameasuring look.Now, you‘ve spent plenty of time in theforest, can you guess whythey‘d do thingsthat way?
Uh  Darian thought hard.They build up for egg-laying in fall, whenthere‘s alot of dumb young animals ontheir own for thefirsttime. Thenthey sitthe eggs in winter, whenthereisn‘t quite as much to eat butthey also aren‘t goingto haveto eat asmuch,thenthey have babiesto feed in deep winter when there starts to be winter-kills and cold-kills lyingaround?
Good!Snowfireapplauded. Then, obviously, it‘s a goodtimeto teachtheyoungstersto hunt when there are litters of very young and extremely stupid young rats, rabbits and squirrels about - not to mention theodd snakeor duckling.
Do youhave abondbird? Darian askedNightwind, curiously.
She broke into pealsof laughter.Mercy, no! shemanaged after amoment. Trust me,the gryphons are more than enough for any poortrondiirn to keep up with! Besides, with my temperament, I‘d likely end up with something like a raven or a crow, and a bird with that much mischief in him would never be able to resist snatching at gryphon ear-tufts and jewelry, and there would neverbeany peace! Howis your head?
It‘s-fine!he said in surprise, realizing that his headache had vanished without his noticing.
That‘s good, becauseyou promisedto help Ayshen with washing-up, andhe‘llbe expectingyou about now, Snowfireremindedhim. Nowyou‘ll be able to talk to him - you might just go up and remindhim of your promise and surprisehim.There isn‘t anythingabout theTayledrasthat Ayshen doesn‘t know 
 -andthere isn‘t anythingthat he isn‘t dying to gossip about  Nightwind interjected wryly, with a tilt of her head.
 - so if there is anything you want to know, and you feel awkward about asking one of us, go aheadandask him,Snowfire concluded, with awink.
Darian gave a sigh of relief at that; there were things he wanted to know,but he‘d felt uncomfortable abouttalkingto Snowfireabout them. It wasn‘t that Snowfire wasn‘t kind, and it wasn‘t as if thethings he wantedto knowwereat allpersonal, it was just - well - they felt like stupid questions, and he was embarrassed to ask them of Snowfire. I look bad enough, with him having to rescue me and all, he thought.I dont wanthim thinking Im so dumb that Im going to benothing but a bother to him.
If you want to get back to Ayshen rightnow, just followthepath and only take right-hand turns,Nightwindadded helpfully. When you‘re done, well - by then, the rest of the scouts will have thought over what you‘vealready toldthem, andI suspect someone will comefetch you for another round of questions. And this time, you won‘t feel as if they‘retalkingover your head!
Darian beamedat her. Thank you!hetoldher, both forthe directionsto Ayshen‘skitchen, and for understanding how horrid it had been to hear all those people chattering away, being certain they were talking about him, and not being ableto understand a word of it. Suddenly eager to find the gossip-hungry hertasi and barrage him with a deluge of questions, he shyly took his leave of both the adults. Feeling as if he had been freed from a leash, he sped off down the path, always taking the right-hand turns, until he found himself at his goal, only a little winded. The hertasi, who was mixing something in a large bowl, looked up at him in some surprise - probably because very fewpeople ever ran anywhere in t his tranquil-seeming place.
Hello, Ayshen!he said cheerfully, taking great pleasure in the waythe hertasis eyes widened with surprise at hisperfect Tayledras.HereI am, just likeI promised!
You andTyrsellarein a conspiracy overthe boy, I know it. The two of you agreed to do something with him,Snowfiresaid - trying not to sound too accusing - as soon asthe boy had run off. Just what haveyoutwo doneto him?And don‘t try to play theinnocent with me;no child who‘s just had his teacher go up in flames before his eyes and his entire village overrun by bloodthirsty barbarians can go runninghappily off to wash dishes!
Darian had become cheerful too cheerful - right after Tyrsell laid in the Tayledras language on his memory. Tyrsell was quitegood enoughto havemeddled further with the boy‘smemory without Snowfirenoticing. Snowfirehad seen thechange in the boy‘s behavior at once;he lostthehaunted look that was in his eyes and started acting like a child on an adventure.
Tyrsellhasput alittleforgetfulness loop‘ in hismind at my suggestion,Nightwindtold him with her usual forthrightness.Whenever hestartsto get frightened, anxious or stressed, he will forget what hewas getting upset about. He‘llknowthat hismentor is dead, objectively, but when the memory of that fact startsto makehim upset, he‘llget distracted andthentemporarily forget thefact. It‘s strictly apalliative, and it will go away in afewdays, but we can‘t haveahysterical boy upsetting Starfall, you, and other key people whileyou‘re deciding what to do aboutthissituation. Furthermore, as an Empath and the only Healer you have, I can‘t devote allmytimeto him. She looked him straight in the eye, as challenging as the dyhelihad been. I wentto Tyrsellthis morning beforeyou sawhim and suggested it.That was why he was so eager to volunteer his services.
I‘d wondered, Snowfire growled, not at allhappy withtheway hisopinions had been subverted.
I didn‘t seea choice, shetoldhim flatly, with what Wintersky called her takeno prisoners expression. My only other courseof action wasto keep him sedated, andthat would bevery bad for him. This way, he has a chance to absorb the situation without thinking about it for a few days, then try and cometo terms with it - gradually, instead of all at once. And by then, you all should know moreabout what‘s goingon;you‘ll beableto tellhim wherehispeopleare and what Valdemar is goingto do about theattack. He‘ll beableto make some choices for himself with a reasonable amount of information, and we‘ll seehowhe‘sfitting in and what we‘re goingto do with him.
Snowfireknewhewas goingto haveto accept whatever shetoldhim she‘d done - not only because it was already an accomplished fact, but because he was not a Healer and an Empath, and his opinionsreally didn‘t matter. However, having Nightwindmakethe decision was a bit morepalatable than Tyrsell; Nightwind might primarily treat non-humans, but she herself was human, and her reasoning came out of her human experience.
All right,he said with resignation.I can see why you decided theway you did, andthis is better than keeping him drugged. And I knowwhy you didn‘t ask me first, because I would have argued with you.
And last night, I was in no mood to argue with you; my intentions were in the other direction entirely. Shegrinnedat him and flutteredher eyelashes coyly in a waythat drewan unwilling laugh out of him. As fortheheadachepotion, that was all it was. Now, if you need to question him more about the attack 
Snowfire interrupted her with a shakeof his head. I don‘t think so.What we‘llneedare descriptions of the village, where things are, at least for now. Kel and Hweel and I are going to do a littlescoutingtheretonight, just to see who and what‘s stillthere.
She nodded. Then there should beno problem;his memoriesof thevillage beforetheattack are goingto beperfectly clear, just don‘t besurprised if he blanksout in describingthethings hethinks are damaged. He‘llprobably completely forget thefactthat the bridge was burned, for instance. She lickedher lips andtwisteda strandof hair aroundher index finger asshepaused for athought. In fact, he‘svery likelyto act andtalk as if the wholetown is stillintact, so don‘t correct him.
I won‘t. You say in his deeperthoughtshe‘s still goingto beawareof what happened, though? At her nod, he sighed, and gazed out over the pool for a moment, collecting his thoughts.Ifhes got it in his deeper memories, those are what usually come out in dreams.Well, we could be looking at someinterruptednights, if he starts havingnightmares.
If hedoes, we‘llmovehim into theBower, and I‘ll dealwith it. He‘llvery likely havethem, and in some waysthat would be good;if hedoes,they will mean he‘s absorbingandcomingtoterms with theexperienceon the deeper level. Shedidn‘t seem at alladverseto havingtheboy in theBower, the half-cave in the rocky cliff where she had built isolated facilities for those who were sick or injured. Well, if she didn‘t mind having her sleep disturbed, Snowfire was not going to try to argue her out of it.
So he shrugged. Once again - you arethe expert; I am not. And much as I enjoy your company, I have ascout‘smeetingto gather 
So go gather it.Shepaused, restingahandagainstthe sideof hisface andmakinghim look deeply into her eyes so he could not miss her sincerity and her regret.“Kechara, if I didn‘t haveto balance a potentially dangerous, even explosive situation against this boy‘sneeds, I wouldn‘t have madethedecisionsI have. But if I didn‘t also havehis welfare in mind, I would havetoldyouto pack him up and send him off with Wintersky and a couple of dyheli to the nearest large settlement. I think that for now at least, he will be better treated among us. Now, I must be off, too, so go find your scouts.
They parted, with Snowfire feeling a little better about Darian‘s welfarethan hehad been. When it came right down to it, the boy could not be in better hands.
Itsbeen a long day, Snowfire thought, as he laced up his climbing boots by the light of the fire. And itsgoing to bea long night.
Darian was safely asleep, and so, most probably, werethe current inhabitants of Errold‘sGrove. It was time for that little scouting run.
Little? Not so little. Ivenever run a sortieagainstan armybefore. But its notas ifI donthave the experience to carry it off. Snowfire had been an active scout since he was a mere fourteen winters old, although hehadn‘t been permitted in thefield against human intruders forthe first four years. So howmuch different can they be, I wonder, than a large bandit gang?
Acrossthe firefrom him, Nightwind was gettingKelvren ready. Kelvren‘seyes pinned with excitement, the pupils contracting to a mere nothing, then widening untilthere was nothing showing but pupil, then contracting again. In the firelight, the effect was particularly striking; his eyes looked as if they were flashing with a gilded light as his golden irises appeared and disappeared. Nightwind calmly tightened his harness at all points, checking his gear, making certain that the amplifying metal lacework-headband of theteleson set was properly in place under the feathers on his head, and that it wasn‘t goingto distracthim in any way. Kelvren‘s Mindspeech wasn‘t particularly strong, andthis little bit of metal filigree that looked so much like one of his favorite ornaments would help him reach Snowfire without effort.
Snowfire was already outfitted for a nighttime sortie; his costume of soft blacks and grays was much like his daylight scouting gear except for color - or rather, lack of it. He had streaked his face with random stripes of black-and-gray paint, and before he braided it, he had dusted his hair with a charcoal-colored powder that would cling until washed out. He wore black gloves and soft, black boots made for climbing; his climbing staff was in its sheath on his back and his throwing-darts in a bandoleer across his chest. There was a knife at his belt and another in each boot, thin and incredibly strong rope with a grappling hook coiled in one pouch at his side, a strangling-wire in another, and a darker version of his leather arm-guard strapped in place over his clothing for Hweelto land on in caseheneededto. Heprobably wouldn‘t;Snowfire intendedto be up inthetree-tops, and there should be plenty of places for Hweel to land without choosing his arm.
A small herd of three dyheli waiting patiently at his elbow would carry him as far as the clearing wherehe‘d discovered Darian, or farther if it seemed safe;that way hewould leaveno footprints. A herd of animals would leave tracks that were much less suspicious than a single animal. The plan called for the dyheli to wait for him at the clearing until he returned. Kel, of course, would fly, leaving no tracks at all.
Think you‘reready for this? Nightwind whispered as shepassedhim, crossingto Kel‘s left side to continue her checks. He winked; he knew what she meant. He had made night sorties as a scout countlesstimes, butthiswas Kelvren‘sfirstoffensiveact of war.That was why theyoung gryphon was so excited; he was about to prove his mettle, and he could hardly wait to get into the air. Hweel, by contrast, was so utterly calm he seemed bored.
Kel was as welltrained asany Silver Gryphon ever turned out by the Kaled‘a‘in, and since Nightwind seemed completely confident in his abilities, Snowfire was prepared to be just as confident. After all, shehad been a Silver for severalyearsbeforeKeleven began histraining; she‘d seen a great many gryphons wear that stylized badge, and she had once said that the Silver Gryphons had ways of weeding out the unsuitable a long time beforethey ever put on the badge and harness of a full Silver.
Nevertheless, Snowfirehopedthat Kelvren wouldn‘t wear himself out with excitement before they ever gotto Errold‘s Grove.
Snowfire gave his own equipment one last check, swung himself up onto the back of Sifyra, and turnedto Kel. Ready, partner?he asked.
Thegryphon gavea quick, eager nod. Rrrready!hereplied.Waiting nonetoo patiently for Snowfire‘shand signal, helaunchedhimself skyward, followed amoment later by Hweel. Snowfire‘s little group of Sifyra and two mares followed at a careful trot. Dyheli had much better night -vision than horses, but the dark shadows beneath thetrees could easily hold unpleasant surprises; there was no point in risking broken legs or ankles.
There was another reason for a more leisurely pace - Snowfire rode bareback. Since Sifyra and the mares would pretend to be a set of wild grazers, it would not do to have something as obviously unnatural as a saddlepad strapped to his back. Not for the first time, Snowfire wished silently that dyheli could manage the same smooth gaits as Companions allegedly could. Like all dyheli, Sifyra had a prominent spine, and Snowfire expected to know the position and size of every vertebra in intimate detail before the ride was over. One of his fellow scouts had once described the dyheli as backbonescovered with hair, balancedon four springs, which was about as succinct a description as Snowfire had ever heard.
If they‘d been ableto travel at a walk insteadof atrot, and ifthey hadn‘t been going into dangerous territory, the ride would have been stunningly beautiful. As impressive as these woods were by day, at night they were far lovelier, at least in Snowfire‘sopinion. Of course, hecould have been biased in that direction by flying an owl.
The moon was at its full and well up, so soft, silvery shafts of light pierced the canopy and illuminated patches of ground all around him. The night was anything but still; insects and frogs called or sang, and an occasional bird pierced the forest with its call, harsh or sweet. Other birds high overhead called complainingly as their sleep was disturbed, and bats flitted like bits of the darkne ss itself in and out of the shafts of moonlight, chasing the moths drawn to dance there.
Snowfire was also aware of two other minds linked with his own - the ever-present dignity of Hweel, and the unfamiliar exuberance of Kel.
:Were waiting for you at the clearing,: Kel Sent back, and Snowfire sensed that he and Hweel were perched side by side in the concealing boughs of a great tree on the farther side.:Theresno sign of any trouble, or any guards.:
Hweel confirmed Kel‘sobservation without words, turning his head and peering through the darkness so that Snowfirecould seefor himself. It was very strangeto look through theowl‘s eyes; from Hweel‘spoint of viewtheplace was as brightly-lit as daylight, although the colors were very faded. The bondbird‘s eyes wereso much keener than ahuman‘sthat Hweelhadnotrouble focusing on tiny details far below him on the ground. The barbarians had packed up their two dead and left no real traces of the fight behind, except for a bit of disturbed rock and scuffed earth.
Hweel‘s keen sight andhearing alertedhimto the smallest movementsand faintest of sounds, even so small as a rat or a mouse would make, so if there had been anyone left as a sentry out here, Hweel would have spotted him without any trouble. So, the barbarians had not posted watchers out this far from the village. Did that mean they had simply looted it and left?
Idontthinkso; there wasn„t enough there to loot. I think theyhad someotherpurpose in coming there, and that Starfall is right about whatthatpurpose is. They„rehere forpower, and perhaps to establish a stronghold here on the border of Valdemar.
Motive was irrelevant right now, though; he was out hereto learn facts, not speculate on motive. :Go farther in,: he told Hweel. :Go in untilyouve spotted a sentry, then comeback.: Here was another advantage of flying an owl; sentries would neither hear nor see him, and that meant Hweel was never a target in night-stalks. That gave him a degree of security that those who flew other birds didn‘t have.
Hweel took off obediently. Snowfire stopped Kel before he could follow. :Wait for Hweel to come back; I want to get as near as I safely can before I take to the trees. It might be easy for you two to flitabout, butImgoing to have to work to get in as far as the first sentry.:
Hweel returned in fairly short order, and as Sifyra paced swiftly through thetrees, Snowfire let the dyheli set their own path as he concentrated on what Hweel had seen.
He directed Hweel and Kel to move nearer to the village, and gave Sifyrathe landmarks to look for just as they came to the edge of the rock-strewn clearing. It seemed to his impatient soul to take forever to reach the tree where Hweel and Kel waited, and he knew it seemed liketwice that to them. They were ready to go, and Kel probably felt that they hardly needed him.
Well, thats where those who are inexperienced differfrom old hands. Im Kelsbackup, whether or not he thinks he needs one.
He pulled out his climbing staff as Sifyra approached t he giant trunk, and swung the bark-hook at the body of the trunk with his left hand as Sifyra actually came alongside. The hook bit solidly into the bark of thetrunk, andhepulledhimself up andoff Sifyra‘s back and onto therough bark ofthe tree withhisonegoodarm. Ashis feet cleared Sifyra‘s back, he sank his right palm-cleat into the bark and used the rough soles of his climbing bootsto further brace himself in place. As soon as he had a palm grip and secure footing, he swung the bark-hook up for his next step, and worked his way up the trunk like atree-hare, and nearly as fast. Because he had chosen a tree with rough bark, he was able to keep most of his weight on his legs rather than his arms, but by the time he got to where the others were perched, his hair was damp with sweat and his muscles burning with fatigue.
Kel and Hweel were a pair of oddly-shaped shadows crouched together amid the warm semidarkness here in the boughs. The other two were not too impatient when he reached their bough, a branch as broad as a highway and as easy to walk on. By that time, Sifyra and the mares had found a patch of grass and werepretendingto grazeon it, with onewary eyeout for hunters. Takemeto wherethefirst sentry is, andI‘llstop there,hetoldtheothertwo. Then you can go on; if something goes wrong for you andyoucan‘t fly, I can takeoutthe sentry beforeheknows there‘sanything goingon, and leaveahole in theline.
Kelnodded. That isss agood plan,heacknowledged, with alittle surprisein his voice. I had notthought of havingto passs ssssentrrries‘sson the grrrround.Hweel just roused hisfeathers, ready to be off. This time Kel dropped off the bough first, but Hweel, being smaller and more maneuverable among the branches, was leading the gryphon before the latter had taken more than two wingstrokes.
Hweel was actually guiding his bondmate as much as the gryphon. Now Snowfire followed them by walkingthetree-road,balancingalongthe branches, andmoving from treetotree by following Hweel to the intersections of branches and jumping from one to the next with the aid of either his grappling hook and rope, or his climbing staff. It was easy enough to followthe boughs, and when he needed a better look at a crossing, he examined it through Hweel‘s eyes.This, in many ways, was the part of his duties that Snowfire lived for. There was something about doing all this in near -darkness, with the scent of bark and leaves all about him, the sounds of insects and frogs far below, that made all of his senses come alive. He felt as if he could see with his skin, and as he concentrated on the placement of each footstep, it seemed as if he and the forest were a single living entity.
He had been doing this since he was old enough to walk,ashadmost Tayledras, andhedidn‘t even think about the risks anymore, though occasionally Kel would pause and perch to watch him, the gryphon‘smind fairly radiatingpleasure and surprise. This was just somethingTayledras did, and it was largely howthey were able to travel undetected through the forest. It was hard work, certainly, and required a great dealof planningand concentration, more so sincehehad only onegoodarm, but he was never afraid, any more than he was when walking on the ground. At this level in the canopy, branches tended to intersect when they were about as big around as his waist;they were still broad and easy to walk on, with very little sway. Higher up - well, things would have been more of a challenge.
He was pleased that he detected the movement of a sentry on the ground below only a little later than Hweel did; he slowed at that moment, and crept forward, making no noise at all, until he reached the trunk of the tree he was in. Then he settled down with his back to the trunk to wait, concealed from detection from below by the bulk of the branch.
Not that any barbarian would think to watch the tree canopy, even if he heard a noise above him.
Now Hweel and Kel went on; as soon as Snowfire was settled in place, he closed his eyes and opened his senses to the owl, concentrating most of his attention on what the bondbird heard and saw.
For a little while, that consisted mostly of branches going past, with occasional backward glimpses to make certain Kel was following. But then, the growth up ahead vanished, and Hweel swooped up to land on a branch overhanging open fields. A moment later, Kel landed beside him, and thetwo of them looked down atthevillageof Errold‘s Grove.
There seemed to be very little damage; only a single house, a couple of barns, and a handful of sheds were burned, although those had been allowed to burn to the ground and there was nothing left of them but piles of blackened rubble with a timber or two sticking out of the ashes. The bridge, amazingly enough, was still there - at a single place in the middle, the timbers of the floor had been replaced with a patch of newer wood, obvious because it shone whitely in the moonlight. Evidently the firethat Justyn had called had been put out beforethe bridge suffered much permanent damage. There was no other sign of conflict.
Hweel could not smell the remnants of smoke from the burned-out buildings, for owls had no sense of smell, but he could taste it in the back of his throat, and he sneezed as it irritated his nostrils. Snowfire felt his own nose itch in sympathy.
There were a lot of horses in makeshift enclosures at one side of the town. The houses were dark, not a single light showing anywhere, and from the chimneys, a little smoketrailed out, showing that the fires were banked until morning. There were no tents, no sleeping forms in bedrolls out in the open. However, there were more of those makeshift enclosures everywhere, and they were full of livestock. Evidently the barbarians were all sleeping in houses, barns, and sheds, displacing the animals into the open. Obviously they didn‘t care if the livestock broke looseor strayed duringthe night, probably because those animals were all destined for the cookpot sooner or later. To the conquerersof Errold‘s Grove, those animalsrepresenteda resourcefor thepresent, not the future.
Thehousenearest them looked as if it might have been Justyn‘scottage. Unliketherest, it had no cottage-garden, and it seemed to match what Darian had told them about the place.
:Theres something odd over there - : Kel swooped ahead of Hweel, intent on getting a closer look at whatever it was that he‘d spotted.
That was when the two things - crawled out from an airspace beneath the very house at the edge of thevillagethat Snowfirehad been examiningthrough Hweel‘s eyes.
:Wyrsa!: Snowfire warned Kel but they weren‘t wyrsa, or not exactly. They had a similar look to them - as if someone had crossed a dog with a serpent, getting something with a hound-shaped body, scaled skin, with the head a melding of viper and canine with sulfur-yellow eyes and fangs. But the wyrsa Snowfire knew had the look of emaciated greyhounds, whereas these two
Well, the big one was the size of a pony and had the blocky, muscular look of a mastiff, and the little one was the size and general configuration of a terrier.Whateverthey were,they didn‘t match the wyrsa that Snowfire was familiar with.
Furthermore, they seemed to know exactly where Kel was.
The little one started to make a kind of highpitchedkeening sound as it followed Kel‘sflight, eyes gazing intently. It trotted after the gryphon, the bigger creature trailing behind, the smaller continuing to emit the whining keen. With every passing moment the sound grew louder, and it would not betoo long beforethe creature‘smastersheard it and cameto see what the matter was.
Kel looked down at thetwo creatures with some alarm, and ducked into the forest canopy to try and lose them.:IfI hide from them, they„II probably lose interestinmeand go away,: he told Snowfire, coming to a soft landing on a massive branch screened from view from below by foliage. Hweel swervedto followthem, coming down from aboveKel‘sperch. :Theycantpossibly smellme, the windsnot in their favor, its in mine. Can wyrsa followa scent?:
Snowfire watched them trotting along, with the little one still making that annoying, whiny noise. :Evidentlyno one told them that theyrenot supposed to beableto find you,: he suggested, asthetwo creatures broke into a lope and wound up directly beneath Kel, looking up at him. :And yes, wyrsa can follow a scent trail very well indeed.:
Kel suddenly slammed his shields up, locking Snowfire out of his mind with no warning whatsoever, and flung himself off the branch in a steep dive.
Snowfire slipped quickly into Hweel‘shead, acutely aware of how helpless he was to stop the gryphon andhedidn‘t even knowwhat Kelplannedto do!
Assuming he even had a plan
Through Hweel‘seyes, he sawthe gryphon burst through thefoliage at an angle so steep it looked as if Kel was falling. It took the two creatures belowhim completely by surprise, too - they both froze where they were for an instant, and that was an instant too long.
At the last possible second, the little one broke and ran, leaving the bigger one to stand its ground. That was the worst thing it could have done; it gave Kelthe chance for a tail-chase, and the gryphon snapped open his wings so abruptly that Snowfire winced, knowing how much the move would hurt. Kel had made the classic aerial maneuver of trading height for speed; fast as the little monster was (and it was greyhound-quick), Kel was faster.
He hit it with outstretched talons and bound to it, bringing it to the ground and pulling it to his beak; before it could turn its own teeth or claws on him, Kel had snapped its neck, and just to make sure it was dead, gave it a doglike shake.
By nowthe bigger creature was charging Kel from behind, but thistime Snowfire could do something;hehad already directed Hweelto attack thebigger creature‘shead and eyes. Even if those scales armored it, the eyes would still be vulnerable, and it would stop to protect them.
Hweel went into a dive of his own, intending to make a raking pass from behind. He hit the creature‘shead just as it had covered about half the distancebetweenthetree and Kel, Hweel‘stalons scraped across the scales without penetrating, but the silent and unexpected attack from behind disoriented the creature and it stopped, whirling, to face whatever had struck it.
But of course, Hweel was already out of reach, and his attack had given Kel a chance to recover. The gryphon launched into the air, dangling the body of the smaller creature from his foreclaws, pumping his wings laboriously for a few moments, then going into a relatively shallow glide beneath the branches.
The larger creature snarled with rage, and followed; Hweel followed it, flying just above the lower branches.
Kel glanced back over his shoulder to make sure the monster was still following him. When it began to lag a little, he dropped lower and slowed a bit, dangling the body of the little creature tauntingly just out of reach. That seemed to drive the big one insane with fury, and it would redouble its efforts to reach him.
Now Kel opened his shields just a little, and Snowfire seized the advantage. :Just what do you think youredoing?: he demanded, trying not to project the thought with the edge of incipient hysteriathat he certainly felt.
:Leading the Big Dog away so I can kill it quietly,: Kel replied, sounding amazingly cool.
:Idont supposeanyone told you that wyrsa have poisonous fangs and claws, did they?: he asked, just before Kel slammed his shields shut again, locking him out. Hetried not to curse with frustration.
At least I got the warning in,he consoled himself, and continuedto watch through Hweel‘s eyes. He figuredthat Kelwould repeatthe same dive andtail chasehe‘d usedto killtheLittleDog;he didn‘t expect what Kel actually did, andneither didtheBigDog.
Kel suddenly slowed and went for height again, but at the top of his upward-reaching arc, he flungthe body oftheLittleDogat theBig Dog with allof his strength.
Snowfirehadforgotten thatthe structureof thegryphon‘s forelegs actually allowed himtothrow things if hechose, and certainlytheBig Doghadn‘t anticipated any suchthing. The carcass hitthe larger animal dead-on, and sent it tumbling end-over-end, and then Kel went into a dive.
If he‘d stayed on the ground to meet it, the fight would have been equal, with Kel having the advantageof size, but theBig Doghavingtheadvantageof speed andpoison. But Kelhadno intention of getting within reach of those fangs and claws; he made dive after raking dive, pounding the thing with fisted talonsthat sent its head into the forest floor, and raking it with open talons with enough speed behind him to penetrate even thetough scalesthat protected it.
Dive after dive he made, choosing to rake or strike based on what the monster itself was doing and how well it had recovered from the previous hit. Snowfire held his breath and even the normally stoic Hweel was excited, gripping the bough he had chosen with enough power to drivethe talons through the bark and deep into the wood.
It began to seem as if thething was indestructible; it had taken a dozen blows that would have shattered the skull of a lesser creature, and as many raking strikesthat left furrows along its head and back. Wyrsa were known to betough, but this monster was tougher than any wyrsa that Snowfire had ever fought. Now Snowfire saw the wisdom of leading it away; had this combat taken place anywhere near the village, Kel would have had an unwelcome audience in very short order.
Whatshedoing? Snowfire wondered, fretting. It was obvious to him that Kel had a plan, but what was it? Surely thegryphon could see for himself that his worst blows just weren‘t havingthe effect he wanted!
In fact, the monster had worked itself into the partial shelter of a bush, and in a moment, Kel wouldn‘t be ableto reach it at all.
Abruptly Kel did a wingover and another steep dive, heading deliberately into the bush! Snowfire flung out a hand and stifled a cry of dismay.
Kel crashed into the bush - and brought it down on top of the creature, pinning it completely to the ground with so many branchesthat it was unable to move at all!
Kel stood up, still atop the bush, holding it and the creature pinned beneath it to the ground. Then, in a manner that was almost insulting, it was so casual, he began breaking twigs and branches with his beak untilheexposedthenapeofthe creature‘sneck. Hecontemplated it for amoment, asif choosing exactly the right place. Then his head darted forward savagely, and he bit through scales, hide, and ultimately, spine, sawing with his beak until the spine was completely severed.
He stood atop the beast still, until its final convulsions were over. It took a very long time.
Finally the body went flaccid, and Kel cautiously opened his shields again.
:Im sorry,: he said apologetically, but behind the veneer of apology was a seething cauldron of satisfied bloodlust, the euphoria of conquest, the thrill of victory. :There is an old lesson of Tadrith Wyrsabane„sfirst combat with a litter of Changed wyrsa, that could sense and eat magic. When these followedme, I suspected that theywere following the“scent”ofmagic, and I didn„twant to give them a chance to get any farther than just the scent.:
:Apology accepted,: Snowfire replied immediately. :And congratulations; you were truly magnificent!:
:Iwas, wasntI?: The reply was made with as much wonder as pride, and Snowfire chuckled under his breath. :Well, if Hweel could come help carry the body of the Little Dog, I can take the Big Dog, and we can drop them somewhere thattheyllneverbefound. Is wyrsameatpoisonous?:
:Not that I know of,: Snowfiretold him after a moment of thought. :I never saw dead scavengers around the carcasses, anyway.:
:Then welldump them in a crotch up in the canopy,: Kel decided immediately. :Their masters will never find even a bone, then, and it will give the scavenger-birds a good meal or two.:
So that was what they did, he and Hweel laboring heavily up into the canopy until they were well screened from the ground, leaving thetwo bodies wedged tightly into forks in neighboring trees. Perhaps eventually bones would fall down, but not until every scrap of flesh had been picked away or eaten by insects and larvae, and by then the matter of their masters should have been settled.
Afterward, both owl and gryphon rested whilethey conferred with Snowfire.
:Ihonestlydidnt seeanything that would makeme think therewere stillanyvillagers there,: Kel told the Tayledras, as he cleaned the monsters‘ blood fastidiously from beak andtalons. :I will grant you, weweren„toverhead long, butI cantimaginewhere they would put the villagers if there were as many fighters as the boy thought.:
Snowfirethought back onthe brief lookthat he‘dhadthrough Hweel‘s eyes, andtendedto agree. :We know they„vefixed thebridge, and thatmostof thebuildingsare stillintact; weknowthat the enemy is stillin possession of theplacebecauseofall thehorses we saw. Thats reallywhat wecame to find out.Ifyou want to go back, Im certainly ready.:
Kel sighed, and spread wings which wereprobably startingto ache. He‘d put hisflyingmuscles through a great deal of abuse, and just about now was when they would start to complain. :I think we ought,: he replied, trying to sound reluctant. :Ihate to admit it, butIm notgood formuch more.:
:Oh, I think you could rise to the occasion if you had to,: Snowfire said encouragingly. :But I see no reason why you should have to. You were mighty enough tonight. Letsgo home.:
:Very well,: Kel replied, and took off - carefully - gaining altitude until he was above the treetops.
Snowfire began the slower process of making his way toward the clearing where the dyheli waited.
But Kelvren could not contain his pleasure in silence. :You know, I really was good tonight. WasntI?:
Snowfire sensed a certain wonder behind the boast, and smiled. :Definitely,: he replied with warmth, too busy picking his way through the canopy to give a more elaborate reply.
But Kel didn‘t seem to mind; he was still intoxicated with success - and mostly talking to himself. :I was,: Kel sighed with content. :I really was. . . .:
Six
Snowfire kept having to hide his smilethe next day when he encountered Kel; the young gryphon was so pleased with himself - not in any truly vain way, but simply full of joy and astonishment at his own daring deeds. He had probably been a great deal less sure of himself at the time than he had pretended. In fact, he reminded Snowfire of a certain young T ayledras after his first successful mission, some fewyears ago. It was odd how certain things transcended the boundaries of species.

Nightwind, of course, had made a great fuss over Kel; over both of them, actually, but she was more demonstrative with Kel. So when, after greetingthe gryphon, he‘d goneto herto ask herto make surehehadn‘t doneany damageto himself, healso askedher why she‘d been so effusive.

I was beginningto think you werebeinga littletoo enthusiastic,hetoldher. Youknow, the way doting mothersmakea great fuss over achild who‘s done somethingperfectly ordinary? I don‘t mean to trytoteach youyour job, but Kel‘soldenough to seethrough that sort of thing.

Gryphons, especially youngones likeKel, area lot more fragilethan you‘dthink,shetold Snowfire, as she checkedhisarm woundandrewrapped it. They need agreat dealof encouragement beforethey become secure in makingtheir own judgments. It‘safledging sort of thing; they really go through several stages of fledging, and the most critical is in learning to trust their training and make their own decisions insteadof waitingfor orders from someoneelse. She sealed downthe endof the bandage with a firm finger. He really was very clever to remember T adrith Wyrsabane, and the Changedcreaturesheencountered. I can promiseyouthat not onein a dozen of thegryphonsI‘ve tended would remember a tale that old. Tadrith is ancient history, and the young ones tend to dismiss history out of hand.

Snowfire thanked her with a smile, then stretched out along the rock rimming the larger pool to soak up the sun. That was his prescription for muscles aching from his unbalanced climbing last night.Ithink hemay betryingto modelhimself off thisTadrith,he suggested.It‘s just athought, but the way heMindspokethenamesuggested something of the sorttome last night.

Nightwind unwound her hair from the knot at the back of her head, and shook it free; it fell in rippling wavesto her waist. I can certainlythink of worseexamples, and gryphonsthat havetriedto followthem. Well, for onething, trying to model himself off Skandranon would be a very bad thing to do. Wedon‘t have any stories of Skandranon as a young, rash, and fallible gryphon, only those in which Skandranon succeeds beyond anyone‘s wildest dreams and pullsoff another miraculous, heroic coup. By this time there is so much myth associated with the Black Gryphon that trying to emulate him would be impossible, and failing would be devastating. No, he could do a lot worse than try to copy T adrith Wyrsabane; by the time Tadrith was growing up, White Gryphon was well established, and we have plenty of tales about how difficult it was for him to make a n ame for himself in his father‘s shadow.

Snowfire rolled over on his stomach, and she began working on his back muscles without his having to ask. He sighed with content - and occasionally grunted in pain - as her hands worked out knots and sore spots. He decided to changethe subject he really wasn‘t in themoodto discuss gryphonicmyth.Aboutthoselittlemonsters 

Yip Dog andAttack Dog?she said;theterms wereso strangehe wasn‘t certain he‘d heardher correctly, and craned his head around to give her a puzzled look. She giggled at his expression. That‘s what Ithought of when Kel described them to me. The littleonewas likethe small dogsone of theHaileigh peoples created. They‘vemadepampered, spoiledpetsout of a breedthat was supposed to be alarm-dogs; very small, very fast, very annoying. When they see a stranger, they swarm him, yipping; we callthem Yip Dogs, and when I reminded Kel of them, he agreed that the smaller creature was exactly likea Yip Dog.

Huh. Good enough namefor it,hereplied. So youthinkthisYip Dog was meantto raise alarms?
I‘m sureof it andI‘m sureKelwas right. From his description, it detectedtheauraof magic that isapart of every gryphon. Shesounded quitepositive, and after amoment of thought, Snowfire was inclinedto agreetentatively withthat conclusion. Hecouldn‘t think of any other reason why it would have been ableto find Kel in the heavy cover of the forest canopy.
Do youthink, perhaps, that it was intendedto raisean alarm against people screening themselves magically, or using magic to disable sentries? Or was it set to catch mages trying to use magicto get past magicalalarms?he asked curiously.
I can‘t think of a better reason to havethem,shetold him, as she bore down hard on the small of his back. After all, theydon‘t knowthat themage-storms are over, and a mage-storm could disable a magical protection. Animals, on the other hand, sleep more lightly than humans, and they aren‘t disabled when mage-energy is disrupted. Fortunately, Kel followed his initial impulse, which was to go away from the place the Yip Dog was guarding. Otherwise, I think the whining might have escalatedto something alot louder. That‘s whattherealYip Dogs do; if you stay near what they consider to betheir territory, or worse,try to approach it, they get positively hysterical.
Andtheother - obviously the term Attack Dogsuits it.Snowfire restedhis chin on hisfolded hands to keep it off thehard rock beneath him. In fact,that‘s probably why they were paired. If whatever the Yip Dog was warning about kept coming, the Attack Dog was to hold it where it was untilthemasters came.He grinned a little.It must have been awfully puzzledabout howto get at Kel!
Fortunately for us, themasters didn‘t consider a sortieby air. Shekneadedhis shoulders vigorously and he grunted. Doesthat hurt?
Yes, but don‘t stop. No, you‘reright aboutthat. They must not knowthereareTayledras anywhere about, andthey‘venever encountered Kaled‘a‘in before. AllI can say is, it‘sa goodthing we didn‘t have any human scouts on thisone.Themorehethought about it, themore gratefulhe was. T ayledras scouts would have sent birds in, seen nothing to worry about, and might perhaps have been tempted to come down out of the trees and go in afoot to recconoiter. They would never have been ableto escapethe fast -moving monsters - and only an eye-shot would have killed the beasts, giventhe way that Hweel‘stalons just skidded off thescales.
The Yip Dog was probably alerted by physical attributes such as scent and sound as well as by magic, she agreed. It wouldn‘t bevery brightto havethem sound alarmsonly forthepresenceof magic.
Im justglad there wereonlytwo ofthem.I sawthem through Hweel‘seyes, andthethings did look likewyrsa,”hetoldher, wondering if shehadany moreinsights gleanedout of Kaled‘a‘in history for him.Or rather, it lookedas iftheir ancestors could have been wyrsa. Now, that triggered a dream last night of all kinds of creatures that looked as if. they also could have been bred from wyrsa, and that made me wonder when I woke up this morning if the being that Darian described as a demon‘ andthecreature it was ridingcouldhavehad wyrsaancestors. He cocked an eye back at her.
That must havebeen onehellof a dream,sheobserved.I‘m glad I didn‘t share it. Still. She paused to work on a particularly bad knot in his neck, and he clenched his teeth to keep from yelping. The story saysthat the wyrsa Tadrith fought were definitely intelligent. And there is no reason whatsoeverthat there couldn‘thave been moreof them created somewhereelse. Or at least, more wyrsaChanged in different ways.The beastsaren‘t exactly stupid, so it‘snot that great a jump to significant intelligence.
Intelligence enough to realizethat it would betothemonster‘sadvantageto cooperate with a human?hehazarded. And given that wehaveamage withthese barbarians who, we assume, already knows how to make Changechildren  Hetook adeep breath as she let up on his shouldersa bit. You see wherethisis going.
Yes, andI don‘t like it. But it doesmake it allthemore imperativethat we concentrateon keeping Starfall safe rather than messing about with these people and alerting them to the fact that we‘rehere.Hefelt her hands startingto tremble. Wasthe imperturbableNightwind actually afraid?
She should be. Intelligent, humanlike versions of wyrsa! That is a truly frightening thought.
Howdid Darian sleep last night?sheasked, abruptly changingthe subject herself.
Wintersky sayshehada coupleof nightmares, but nothingthat even wokehim.That‘s enough, thanks. He rolled back over and letthe sun work on hischest muscles. I don‘t knowwhat tonight will bring, but so far I‘m goingto assumethat minor nightmaresare good, but theonesthat send him out of sleep screaming in hysterics are bad?
As a generalrule; we don‘t want him assimilatingtoo much, too fast.She stretched herself out onthe rock besidehim Ah, that feelsgood. He‘llprobably have ahystericalone in afewnights, though. That is, if whatTyrsell did fadesout atthe rateI think it will. It might go more quickly;he‘s a boy with a strong will, andthat‘s likely to makehim fight what we put in place.
Snowfire sighed. Wonderful.Well, if hegetstoo hystericalfor meto handle, remember your promise.
She laughed. Big, braveTayledraswarrior worried about a littleboy‘snightmares?
Big, braveTayledras warrior needs his sleep, or. he isn‘t goingto bemuch goodat protecting annoying littleKaled‘a‘in trondiirn,”he growled, cracking open an eyeto see which side of her was uppermost, and smacking her on the rump when he had a target.
That, of course, led to her rolling him into the water, and him pulling her in, and a conversation that had nothing whatsoever to do with Darian, Kelvren, or wyrsa.
Darian woke screaming from a nightmare of fire, to find a sleepy, yawning Snowfire kneeling at hispallet, shakinghim gently.Easy, Dar‘ian,theHawkbrother was saying, asif hehad been saying the words over and over for sometime.It‘s allright;you‘re just dreaming.Wake up, littlebrother 
There was a lot of light around; where was it coming from?I‘m awake, Darian said, feeling dazed andconfused, and stillfullof a sourceless grief and fear. I‘m awake 
Good. Snowfiresmiled, but hehadto put up ahandto cover hismouth as itturned-into a yawn. That was when Darian saw the source of the illumination, after Snowfire moved. There was a very dim globeof light hovering just at Snowfire‘s shoulder, andDarian staredat it, distracted for a moment. It startledhim, but Snowfire didn‘t act asif it was something strange.
What‘sthat?he asked, pointingto it.
My mage-light,theHawkbrother repliedcasually, asif heconjured such things allthetime. Perhaps he did and Darian just hadn‘t been awakeat therighttimeto seethem. Hehad been so exhausted these last couple of daysthat he went to sleep almost as soon as the sun went down. Would you like it a little brighter? Aheartbeat later,the glowintensified ameasurabledegree.
You can makethose?hesaid, staringat it.Really?Justyn couldn‘t 
Then all atonce, asthe sound of hisown voice screaming Justyn‘snameechoed in hismemory, his fear and grief had a source;histhroat closed up, andhefought back tears. Aman shouldn‘t cry; tears wereuseless. They hadn‘t brought back hisparents, hadthey?Justyn‘s dead, isn‘t he?he whispered, closinghis eyesto hidethepain. He‘sreally dead.
Yes, little brother, he is, Snowfirereplied quietly, with an odd inflection in hisvoice. Darian opened his eyes, to seethe Hawkbrother looking down at him with - what? Pity? Understanding? He couldn‘ttell;hehadn‘t seen anyonein Errold‘s Grovewearing either expression aroundhim.
Just then, over on the other side of the hut, Wintersky snorted in his sleep, turned over, and mumbled. That seemed to make up Snowfire‘smindabout something.
Here,hesaid, gettingto his feet, andholdingout his hand.We shouldn‘t wakeWintersky, and I don‘tthink you‘llbe getting back to sleep soon, so let‘s go for a walk.
Darian hesitantly accepted the outstretched hand; Snowfire pulled him to his feet, then turned toward Hweel‘sperch andheldout hisarm to thehugeowl. Hewasn‘t wearing hisarm-guard, and Darian gasped and winced as Hweel stepped onto the bare flesh - but the owl barely closed his feet around the arm and half-spread his wings to keep his balance instead of maintaining it by gripping the arm.
Snowfireturnedto givehim areassuring smile.Remember, Hweel isn‘t an ordinary owl; I‘m only going to take him outside to let him step up onto the roof. He can be very soft-footed when he needsto befor me.
Yes, butifhegetsunbalanced and cantsavehimself, hemayforget whatsunder thosetalons Mindful of that possibility, Darian stepped in front of Snowfire and held the curtain of vines aside so that theHawkbrother wouldn‘t haveto juggle vines andowl at the sametime. With anodofthanks, Snowfire stepped out into the night, with the mage-light trailing at his shoulder. Darian followed him.
Once outside, Snowfire raised his arm just enough that Hweel could move onto the end of an exposed roof-beam. Hweel stepped off his arm carefully, settled his feathers, looked all around, in that bizarre way only owls could. His head went nearly allthe way around, then he settled on a direction, crouched down, and pushed off, flapping hard, vanishing silently into the darkness. Snowfire turned, just as silently, and after a backward glance at Darian, walked slowly along the path.
After a breath of hesitation, Darian caught up with him. Wintersky had given him what he called sleeping clothes that was anewideato Darian, who generally slept in that day‘s shirt andput on a clean oneinthemorning, but he‘d obediently changed into theodd garmentsevery night. Hesaw nowthat Snowfire wore very similar clothing; a draped, pullover shut of some light, loosely-woven, cool material, and drawstring trousers gathered at the ankle made of the same stuff. Darian felt a little like a ghost, walking barefoot through the sleeping camp in the pale garments.
Ghosts . . . howmany ghostshaunted Errold‘s Grovenow? One, at least. Or would Justyn have stayed to haunt the place?
What areyouthinking? Snowfireasked quietly, hardly abovea whisper.
I wasthinking about Justyn,he replied, feeling sorrowagain riseto close his throat.
I think that hemust havebeen avery good and braveman, camethe quiet reply. Peopleof his sort do not need to linger, haunting their old homes; ghosts are those who left things undone, and I cannot think he left anything undonethat truly needed doing.
Where  Hecouldn‘t manageanythingmore.
But Snowfiremust have guessed his question.Havinghadno personal experience of one who has gone, I cannot giveyou firsthandevidence,hereplied, asonehand somehowcameto rest on Darian‘sshoulder asa comforting weight.But - well, I know enough folk who have, whose word I trust, to make me certain that we do not simply ceaseto be. But as for the nature of the path he took, the faith we Tayledras profess tells us that each path is different, according to the belief and the natureof theone who takes it.Hepaused.I am not certain what your people believe, but would you careto hear what one who had been aHerald supposedly toldoneof my people?
I yes,Darian said, after amoment.One who had been a Herald? ButHeraldsdontquitbeing Heralds, so
He said, or so I was told,Snowfire replied, interrupting Darian‘sthoughts, that when a Herald dies, he is given three choices. One is that he may return again as a Herald-to-be, the second that he return as a Companion, and the third is that he have some time in a place where all his desires are granted. I suspect that your teacher has been given the samechoices.
Darian blinked as his eyes blurred, and felt tears coursing down hischeeks. I hope - I hope whatever he picked, he got a lotof magic!hechoked.
Snowfire‘shand closed briefly on hisshoulder. Ithink that hemust,the Hawkbrother replied. In fact, I cannot imagine anything else.
That was too much for Darian, and he lost his last shreds of control. He stumbled, and started to sob, and found Snowfire holding him just the same way as his father used to when some childish grief overcamehim. Darian forgot that he was supposedto beaman, forgotthat men didn‘t cry - forgot everything except that he had failed to help Justyn, he had failed to help bis father and mother, and nowthey were all dead and he was utterly alone.
He cried silently ashehad learnedto do sincehisparents‘ death, sobs shaking his frame, leaning on Snowfire, who simply held him and rocked a little from side to side, saying nothing. And only when theworst of histerrible grief hadpassed, did it dawn dimly on him that he really wasn‘t alone after all. . . .
Finally, there were no more tears left, and Snowfire let him go at the exact instant when he thought of pulling away, morethan a little embarrassed.
Don‘t be ashamed for allowing yourself to feel, littlebrother,camethe quiet words. You should rather feel sorry for those who do not. They are either cripples or very sick in soul.
As hestared at theHawkbrother in astonishment, Snowfirepattedhis shoulder. I thinkthat a midnight swim might bea goodthing for both of us,he said, and gaveDarian a gentle push to start him moving again.
Darian was in a bit of a daze, and it seemed as if they only took a few steps farther before they cameto the two ponds, their water reflecting the stars and a sliver of moon above them. Snowfire simply stripped off his garments and plunged in; after a moment of hesitation, Darian copied his example.
He had expected the water to feel cold, but he had been standing in the night air long enough that it was only pleasantly cool. He swam back and forth on his back, staring up at the stars, letting his mindempty of everything. He didn‘t stop untilhisarms and legs weretiredandhewas beginningto feel a little waterlogged. Only then did he stop to tread water, and saw Snowfire was back on the bank, putting on his clot hing, the mage-light still hovering near him, but much brighter now.
He paddled back to the same place, and looked up at atowel being held out for him to take. He dried himself off, and startedto look around for hisdiscarded clothing, but it wasn‘t wherehe‘d left it. Quickly, he wrapped the towel around his waist, wondering what had happened to it, when Snowfire noticed his confusion and pointed. There, neatly folded on a rock, was a fresh set of garments.
“Hertasi,”was all Snowfire said, as heturned his attention to carefully braiding his long hair. Quickly, Darian slipped into the clean clothes, and used the towel on his own hair to cover his uncertainty about what to do or say next.
The senseof lossnever leaves, littlebrother, Snowfire said in a perfectly normal tone of voice. But it does growlessover time, aslong asyou permit yourselfto feel. If you bottleit inside, it only eats at you, until you are hollow and full of nothing but grief 
Howdo youknow?Darian blurted, feeling unaccountably angry - then he could have beaten his head against atree for snapping at Snowfire so.
But Snowfire didn‘t snap back;he just finished braidinghis hair and looked at Darian quizzically. Whotoldyouthat Tayledrasareimmortal?heasked. Whoever he was, he was misinformed.
Darian hunghishead, hischeeks burning. I‘m sorry,hemumbled. I didn‘t mean. . . .
You didn‘t think,” Snowfirecorrected, with akindlytonein hisvoice. And given thehour and the circumstances, I can hardly fault you. You aretired, in every way. Much longer, and I will be snapping in an illtempered snarlmyself,
Darian flushed even hotter, if that waspossible.I can‘t imagine you ever doing anything wrong!he stammered.
To his surprise, Snowfirechuckled.Oh, Dar‘ian, do not ever allow Nightwind to hear you, or she will fillyour earswith themyriad ways andtimes in which I havetransgressed!Herolled his eyes skyward. I cannot even tellyou which is worse - that she never forgets, or that she is right far too often or at least, thinksthat sheis!
To his surprise, Darian found himself smiling a little, for he had certainly heard the men of Errold‘s Grovemakingthesame complaintsinthetavern.I guess allladies arelikethat. Theones at home 
He stopped in midsentence. Therewasntanyhomeanymore. And asfor themen who frequented the tavern, he had no idea wherethey were or what had happened to them. Were they even stillalive? Shouldn‘t hebe getting help for them?What was hethinking of, lolling about in ponds likethis, when he should behelpingthepeopleof Errold‘s Grove?Howhadhemanagedto forget the rest of his people?
What‘sthematter?Snowfire asked, breaking into his silence.
I should what am I stilldoing here?he asked, feeling a frantic urge to do something, and not knowing what hecould do. He shifted his weight from onefoot to theother in anervous dance. I‘ve got to go somewhere, got to get help. Why am I still here? I should be out there, trying to get somebody to help us, not here, enjoying myself!
Before he could yield to that urge and just run off into the darkness, Snowfire seized his elbow, and somehowthemeretouch calmed him. Dar‘ian, listen to me, andpleasebelieveme,the Hawkbrother said urgently. Hweel and Kel and I havebeen to your village, thesecondnight after you came to us - we saw no signs that your people had been killed, and none that they had been captured either. We are fairly surethey must have escaped completely. You can be at ease, for it seems likely thatthey havealready foundhelp!
But you‘renot completelysure?Darian asked, wantingto believe, andnot surethat hedared to. Youthink they‘re allright, but you-
I could not be completely sure without going intothevillageand looking into allthehouses, Snowfire interrupted, and added, I think you will agreethat this would not beavery wise courseof action.
Uh probably not, Darian replied, tryingto think wherepeoplecould haveescaped to.
Wethink thatthey probably went down theriver, Snowfirecontinued. Thereis aplacethere with fortifications some great lord‘sholding, wethink?
Kelmskeep, Darian replied automatically,Lord Breon‘smanor.And somehow, just being able to identify the placemadehim lose someof that feelingof frantic urgency. What did you see when you went back?I haveto know! What ifthey didn‘t get away, howwould youknow?
Then sit here, andI willtellyou. Snowfire gestured at a rock that seemedperfectly sculpted to act asa chair, andtook another like it. I do not knowif youhave been toldthis, but aTayledras can see through the eyes of his bond-bird. I remained near where we found you, in the boughs, on the same line as the sentries. Hweel and Kelvren went on, since it would be far less likely they would be detected than a human, and it would be far easier for them to escape if they weresighted.
Darian nodded, leaningforwardtensely to better hear Snowfire‘ssoft voice.
The bridge crossingtheriver had been repaired, and it appeared that fewof the buildings had actually been burned, mostly a handful of sheds. There were livestock in crude enclosures in the fields, andmany, many horsesin better enclosuresthere also.Snowfiretiltedhisheadand brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes, as Darian flinched at the thought of cows pastured in the young crops. Why do you wince?
They‘reeatingthecrops, Darian explained, thinking with pain of all the work that the villagers had put into those fields, only to havethose animals devouring the food that should have goneto feed thevillageover the winter.There won‘t be anythingto last until spring.
The barbarians of the north - which is what I believe these are - do not farm much; they are mostly hunters. Crop growing isatask for women andthralls, andthemen don‘t troublethemselves with wherefoodotherthan meat comesfrom.Snowfireseemed lost in thought for a moment, then cameto himself with a shakeof hishead. Thistellsmethatthe barnsareempty of livestock, and there must be something else in the barns. I count the horses, knowing that northern barbarians are not great horsemen, and that there will be a dozen men who fight afoot for every rider. I decided then that the barns must be full of those soldiers, and the houses are full of the riders, who are of higher rank. Guessing at the numbers by the number of horses, I would say that there was no room in the village for your own people, and there are no people sleeping out in the open. So, I think they must have escaped.
Andthen?Darian persisted.Then what happened?
Then Kelvren was discovered, and he and Hweelhadto leave.Snowfire shrugged eloquently. So do youthink I am right?
Darian tried to think, but he could not imagine where the villagers could be - other than escaped if they weren‘t intheir own homes or in thebarns. I guessthat must be right  hesaid, and suddenly foundhimself yawning. But why can‘t youattack thesepeople? Aren‘t you supposedto be Valdemar‘sallies?Aren‘t you goingto help?
If wethought that your people werein danger, we would, regardlessofthe danger to us, Snowfire saidfirmly, But, Darian, just what do you propose we should do? You know how fewof us there are, and youhad a glimpseof howmany theenemy has in hisranks.
But magic  Darian protested.You can usemagic 
Not asyet, Snowfiretoldhim. Not in any way that will balance our small numbers. First, we must see if your peoplesummon their own aid; it would be foolish, wouldn‘t it, if wetriedto attack and failed, onlyto seean army of your people comethenext day?
Having seen what the enemy could do, Darian had another word for it than foolish.He gulped, thinking of what a real battle must look like. Not merely one man with a-wounded arm, but many peoplehurt, even killed. And it wouldn‘t be strangers dying, it would be peopleheknew. Thethought made him sick to his stomach. I thinkthat would be a bad idea,hereplied weakly.
Ontheother hand, Snowfirecontinued, in that same, reasonabletoneof voice, if we wait long enough, the enemy will relax and drop some of their defenses. Even if help from your land does not come at once, we may well have an opportunity to do them a great deal of harm - perhaps even enough to drivethem away. That sort of fighting doestendto makethe best useof our abilities.
With magic? Darian askedhopefully. Surely if even Snowfire, who said that he was inferior as a mage, could do things even Justyn couldn‘t - what could Starfall do?
Well, youtold usthat there was amage with thesepeople, Snowfire began.
I did?Darian blurted.
Snowfirenodded. When youtold us of the creature riding the lizard - and the men with the aspects of bears. Only a mage can work such changes, which meant that there must be one among them. Well, you know what has befallen magic and you knowthat our task is to reestablish order in the patterns of magic. This means that Starfall must,before allelse, seize controlof themagichere.
So thatthe othermage can‘t get it!Darian exclaimed.
Exactly so. Then, once we have control of the magic energy, he will be weaker. That isthe good aspect. Snowfirefrowned.Thebad aspect isthatthismeans Starfallwill be busy holdingthe power, and unable to do other things he would otherwise - such as watching the enemy from afar or protecting us from theenemy‘smagic. And inthemeantime, the enemy mage is not having to hold the power-matrix, and he is free to act. None of the rest of us are his equal, and I do not knowthat we could be, even acting together. So - we will ensure that some message comes to your people, calling for help, and meanwhilewe will wait to see what happens.
Wait and see. Wasn‘t that what Justyn was alwaysharping about?Patience.
But this time, rushing into things is going to get people hurt and killed. He sighed, and nodded his head.
I guessthat‘s what you‘llhave to do,he said reluctantly.But 
Whatever he had intended to say was interrupted by an enormous yawn, and he found himself blinking hard, trying to keep his eyes open.
Holdthethought, little brother, Snowfiresaid, and got up.Whatever it iscan wait until morning. For now, sleep is waiting.
Darian stumbled along in Snowfire‘swake,tryingto keep histhoughts in order. There was something about Starfall holding the magic - something important
But whatever it was, it didn‘t last past putting his head down on the pillow.
When he woke up, his memories of last night and the nightmare that had awakened him were waitingfor him. Snowfire, however, wasn‘t.
He went through most of the day, doing whatever chores the hertasi or Hawkbrothers asked him to, without once seeing his new mentor. He guessed that Snowfire must be out doing his job, scouting, and that made him feel a little better. Something was being done; it might not be obvious to him just what it was, but clearly the Hawkbrothers were not lounging about looking decorative.
He helped Nightwind groom Kelvren after the latter returned from his own scouting foray, makingcertainthat theenemy wasn‘t gettingtoo near their encampment. Kelvren toldhim moreof the night-sortie, especially the combat with the two smaller monsters; it was exciting, but scary, too, when he thought how Kelvren could have been hurt. Now all those old stories about battles and fighting took on an entirely different complexion when hethought about these people he knew being in the middle of all the hewing and smiting and all.
The notion of seeing Kel sick with poison - of Wintersky with some terrible wound, bleeding into the dirt it was horrible. Not that hehadn‘t seen nasty injuries, becauseobviously he had, but to think of such things being inflicted by other people on his friends, and on purpose, to hurt or killthem well, it was just entirely different from seeing the results of an accident, and it was hard to wrap his mind around the idea. Not just hard - ugly. It made him feel horrible inside to realizethat people could actually wantto hurt other people. Oh, there wereplenty of times when he‘d wanted something nasty to happen to other people, but the wish was always vague and illdefined, and what he‘d wanted was for something to happen to them, not that he wanted to inflict a hurt.
But I think I could have hurt those men who were chasing me. He considered it a little more. I know I could have hurt them. I was ready to shoot them. He recalled quite clearly how he had felt at the time - coldly calculating an eye-shot, as if the men were nothing morethan tree-hares he was hunting for the pot.
But they were going to kill me and Snowfire. And they attacked the village. And for no reason! Or, not for no reason, but not for any good reason.
When he finished with Kel - who had really enjoyed being ableto tell someone about his fight Wintersky caught him before anyone else did.
Weneedto get thehawk furniturein order,Wintersky toldhim, andyou‘retheonly one free, without any explanationsof what hawk furniture was, or howto get it in order. Instead, the youngest of the Hawkbrothers left him in the charge of a painfully shy hertasi in someone else‘shut, the entire left side of which was full of - hawk furniture.
Which was not little chairs and tables for birds of prey, as his imagination had devised, but the bits and pieces of hawk equipment needed for the bondbirds.
For all their intelligence, bondbirds were still hawks, and a hood slipped over their heads would let them sleep in a noisy and brightlylit room. Darkness makesthem sleep,the little hertasi whispered, cupping her handsover her eyes by way of illustration. If the bondmate needs to be awake, the bird must still sleep to feel well,they must sleep from dawn to dusk.
She showed him howto clean the hoods, made of hard, but extremely thin leather, odd bulges over the areas of the eyes to keep from touching the lids. Then , when he had cleaned them, she showed him how to repair thosethat were damaged. Most often, it was the braces, the leather thongs that held the hoods shut at the back, that were damaged, broken, or worn out. That was easy to fix, once he saw the odd way in which they were laced, so that a Hawkbrother could tighten or loosen the hood with one hand and histeeth. But sometimes what was damaged was the welt of leather protecting the raw edge of the bottom of the hood, or the ornamental knot on top, which was supposed to be used to take the hood off and put it on. The hertasi let him repair the simplest of these, but for the really complicated repairs, such as restitching the eye-covers, she insisted on doing the work while he watched. It was fascinating, for he would not have thought that such stubby little fingers could take such delicate stitches.
Most ofthe bondbirds didn‘t need restraints, such asjesses, but allof them worethe bracelets on their ankles that the jesses fitted through. The bracelets were good for other things, for tying a light string onto, for instance, that a bird could carry up and over a high branch, so that a rope could be pulled up afterward. So the hertasi taught him howto cut and oil such bracelets - then howto make leather- or rope-wrapped and padded perches as well. Hawks took wall- or floor-perches of tree limbs wrapped in leather, while falcons, it seemed, required perches made of upthrust sections of stump, like upthrusting rocks, but padded so that the talons of a sleeping bird had something to grip. Care of the feet, it seemed, was all-important, and sharp talons were hard on wrapped perches. Perches had to be made to withstand hard use, but not made of things that would bruise or abrade the feet; bruised or cut feet couldinfect, leadingto a state calledbumblefoot,which in turn could cripplea bird if not adequately treated.
He learned more about birds of prey in that morning than he had ever learned in his life, and when he and the little lizard were done, every bit of equipment that could be mended, had been.
Then it was time for lunch, and time to help clean pots for a bit.
It occurred to him after lunch, as he stood beside a-half barrel with his arms up to the elbow in warm, slippery, soapy water, that he had seldomworkedthishard with poor Justyn. But this didn‘t bother him at all, and that was the odd thing.
Maybe its just its just thatno oneshoutsatme, or tellsme whata terrible, ungratefulchild I am, he concluded.Its not so bad to workwhen no one is scolding you.
Of course, he‘dnever had such interesting work before, which might havebeenthe reason. Ayshen always had funny or fascinating things to tell him while he scrubbed pots, and mending the hawk furniture had been something entirely differentfrom anythinghe‘dever done before. It wasn‘t hard to get through a chore when someone was chatting to you and making jokes, and when the chore required concentration and delicacy, time just flew by.
And as for helping to tend Kelvren, well, he had felt positively honored. It had been an amazing thing,totouch thegryphon‘s hugefeathers, andmake surethekillingtalonswerepinprick sharp and immaculately clean.
Odd, hethought, as Ayshen left him alone for a moment, to tend to the bake ovens, I though t Kelvren was so old, older than Snowfire, but it was almost as if he was my age. I wonder how old he really is?Therewas no way of telling with a bird, of course. They didn‘t exactly showtheir age in any way that he could recognize.
I like it here, he thought, with yearning, ashewatchedAyshen‘s back. I wish I could stay.
If only there was some way that he could! When things got back to normal, would anyone at Errold‘s Grove ever want him back?Wastherethefaintest chancethat theHawkbrotherswould want him with them?
And what if things never got back to normal? What if no one wanted to go back to the village? Would the Hawkbrothers be willing to give him a home?
LastnightSnowfirekeptcalling me “littlebrother.”Is thatjustsomething hecallsevery boy, or
-
Dar‘ian!Wintersky popped up behindhis back, and heyelped in startlement, droppingthe bowl he‘d been scrubbing back intothe water. Wintersky jumped with amazing agility right out of the way, and didn‘t even get asingledrop of water on himself. He laughed, and clapped Darian on the back.Sorry! Didn‘t meanto creep up on you likethat, it‘s just habit. Snowfirewantsyoufor a moment, if Ayshen doesn‘t mind.
Not at all,the hertasisaid without turning. He‘sdonetwicethework of any of you clumsyhanded louts. Hecan consider his work done forthe day.
Why, Ayshen, I am crushed!Wintersky mocked, andthrewDarian atowelto wipehimself down with. Comeon, this won‘ttake long.
Wondering what Snowfire could want, Darian followed the younger Tayledras with increasing curiosity. He became even more puzzled, and a little uneasy, when Wintersky brought him down a very narrow path into a part of the encampment where he had never been before. It was heavily overgrown, cool, dim, and so quiet he could hear himself breathing. The path ended in a place completely overshadowed by the branches of the oldest and largest willow Darian had ever seen, with the usual log hut built right up against the trunk of the tree, which was easily as big around as the hut itself. No grass could possibly grow here, but that lack was morethan made up for by the thick moss carpeting the area. Sitting on a bowperch beside the door was a handsome cooperi hawk, watching everything with alert, reddish-yellow eyes.
Waiting for Darian were Snowfire and Starfall. The Adept looked very tired, as if he had been working all night, and Darian wondered if he had gotten any rest at all. They must be taking me seriously enough that Starfall is working himself as hard as he can to keep those people from getting at the magic. That was oddly reassuring.
Dar‘ian, I understand youhave been a great dealof help to us, Starfall said, by way of a greeting.
Caught off guard, Darian shrugged. I guess so. Haveto earn my keep, don‘t I?He winched a little, inwardly, for hiswords didn‘t sound very polite, but Starfall didn‘t seem offended.
Wedo expect allof those in our own group to do their shareif they arenot disabled,theolder man said gravely.Wearenot so well-equipped that we cannot use another pair of hands. In fact  hecast aglance at Snowfire, - we could use that pair of hands on a more permanent basis, if that would suit you.
Darian stared at him, quite certain that his new-won ability to understand T ayledras must be faulty.
Starfallpersisted, grave but earnest. Our impression isthat you do not feelany truly strongties to thoseof your peoplethat remain. Isthat impressiontrue?
He shook his head a little, hardly able to believe what he was hearing. Was Starfall making the offer that he thought? Starfall was clearly waiting for an answer, and Darian was startled enough to givehim stark, unvarnishedtruth. Uh, I‘d say they‘d probably be happy to see the last of me right now,headmitted, shamefaced. With no Master, I go back onthevillageto care for, and I don‘t think any ofthem would careto apprenticemenow.
Bet they could find all kinds of excuses not to, in fact, hethought with sudden bleakness, for how could Starfalltake that as any kind of a recommendation?
Then, would you careto remain with us? Starfall asked, watching hisface intently. Snowfire has offered to take you as his younger sibling, and that isallthat I needas Elder.
But there isa condition,Snowfiresaid warningly, beforeDarian could burst out with an astonishedand immediateacceptance. You must agreeto to apprentice‘ to me, inthematter of magic, at least for as long as I have the ability to teach you. You may outstrip me; I do not yet know how strong your Gifts may be, and if that happens, you must go to a real teacher, Starfall, by preference.
And we shall begonefrom our home Valefor sometime, severalyears, perhaps, working to establish the leylines and nodes allthrough thenorthern part of Valdemar,Starfalladded, watching him closely. So you will not actually see our Vale until our work is done. If you were hoping for exotic surroundings, well, our surroundings will be less and less exotic allthe time that we are out. That is another reason for us to want you with us. It would be good to have someone who has a native‘scommand of thistongue at our disposal.
Darian stood rock-still, thinking furiously. So, that was to be the price of being given a place here
- that he must continuethetedious study of magic. Of all thethings he wanted to learn, surely that was the last on the list!
But perhaps he was doing Snowfire an injustice. Justyn was hardly the best teacher in the world, and asapractitioner, hewas even worse. Maybeit wouldn‘t be so bad if hewas studying with someone who actually knew something.
And even if it was just astedious and boringas it had been with Justyn, well, wasn‘t that a small price to pay to be where he was actually wanted?
And Snowfire says he wants me for a brother? Me? They want me to be a real Hawkbrother?
He made a real effort to contain his excitement, but it surely showed. He stifled his urgeto shout, and somehow managed to turn a grave face toward the Adept.
I would liketo stay, very much, Elder,he said at last, with alittle bowto Starfall.I am honored that you ask me, and I certainly accept! I promisethat I will do all that I can to help everyone here, and I will try tobemorepatient in learning magic.
Starfall smiled, and motioned him closer. Taking his hand, the Adept placed a pendant into it. It was a hawk-talon, mounted in silver;the mounting was decorated with a blue moonstone and strung on a beadedchain. Welcometo k‘Vala, then, little brother,hesaid warmly, asheclosed Darian‘s hand aroundthetalon. Youmust wear this asatoken of your acceptanceinto theClan, asNightwind does. You both bear thetalonsof my father‘s great suntailhawk-eagle, Skyr, who shared my father‘s labors as a Healing Adept and went to white at the age of only four. I knowthat you will be worthy of thetoken, even as Nightwind is.
Snowfiretookthetalon from Darian‘snerveless fingersandput it aroundhisneck. Darian looked up at him, trying to find the right words to thank him, and failing completely - but Snowfire acted as if he had already said them.
Youhave labored long andhardalready, and I am not minded to begin your lessons with one today, littlebrother,theyounger Hawkbrother said asheclasped and released Darian‘sshoulders. Why not go out intothe forest for atime?It will coolyour mind and help youthink.
If there was one thing that Darian agreed with, it was that he needed some timeto think this over. Henodded. But do I needto have someone with me?heasked, hopingthat theanswer would be no.
Snowfire shook hishead. That horsethat we stole is in need of exercise,he suggested.Go take it about for a while. You will be safe enough, riding,andyou won‘t haveto worry about dyheli chatter in your mind.The corner of hismouth twitched alittle, suggestingto Darianthat although theremark was intended as amusement, Snowfirehad suffereddyhelichatterin thepast.
As he hesitated a moment, Starfallnodded at the entranceto his little sanctuary.Off with you, young one. I am theonemost needfulof your elder brother‘s skills atthemoment. Wehave some tricky work ahead of us before wecan restthis day.
Perhaps yesterday such a dismissal would have made Darian sullen and resentful, suspecting that they were getting rid of him so that they could discuss him. But now - now he had no such feelings. If Starfall said they had work, then they had work, and he would only get in the way. He stammered his thanks to both of them, and turned and ran, his heart hammering with so many mixed feelings that he couldn‘t sort them out properly.
He already knew where the horse was; in the pasture, being guarded by the dyheli herd and kept from straying. He guessed that the tack would be in a hut he knew was used for storing things with no immediate use, and sure enough, it was. Hehadn‘t saddled many horses in his life, but withthehelp of two amused dyheli who kept the nag from running off half-equipped, he managed to get all the gear on intheproper manner. It wasn‘tthat thehorsewas at allill-tempered, it was more as if it expected badtreatment; it didn‘t fight him, but if it could get away without being saddled and bridled, it would be very happy to do so.
The horse sighed with resignation as he clambered into the saddle, his stomach aching reflexively as herecalledthelast timehe‘d ridden the beast. But it seemedtractable enough, and it movedout of the entrance to the valley at a calm walk.
Darian was used to finding his way in the Forest, and had no fear that he was going to get lost. He set a general course southward, but otherwise let the horse have its head, and it ambled on beneath the trees while he let his own thoughts wander. They tended to stray into mere contemplation of his surroundings; it was so easy to let his mind go blank as he admired a golden shaft of sunlight piercing the green gloom, then saw with surprised delight a single flower basking in its warmth like a precious jewel displayed for his admiration. It was more comfortableto contemplatethe majesty of the enormous treetrunks rising in a never-ending vista of columns all around him than to contemplate his own future. And the liquid notes of birdsong dropping tranquilly down through the boughs were infinitely preferable to the discords of his past.
Everywhere he looked, he sawthings that his parents would have drawn his attention to, if they had been there. Summer was not atime to trap for furs, so his summers in the past had been spent in exploration. Here in the hills, wonderful and magical spots seemed hidden in every valley. Sometimes it was a sparkling stream burbling over a stone-filled bed. Sometimes the stream poured down the side of the hill in a series of exuberant waterfalls. He caught sight of a pair of does with their fawns, grazing in a tiny pocket of meadow, surrounded by moss-covered boulders. Once they passed a fallen tree that supported an entire community of plants and ferns on its decaying, moss-covered side.
All was well for some time; the horse, given no commands, chose to eat as much as he walked. He meandered from one sparse bit of grass to the next. The grass beneath thetree canopy was thin and tended to grow in widely-spaced, wispy clumps;thick growths of fern and moss were more common here than grasses, and the horse disdained both. Darian let the reins hang loose on the horse‘sneck, engrossed in hisown increasinglytroubledthoughts.
Thosethoughts weren‘t really coherent;too much hadhappened to him for coherency. He had the vague feeling that perhaps this was the root of what bothered him - events had taken him so completely by surprisethat hewasn‘t acting anymore, he wasreacting.
At least before, when anything happened to me, it was generallybecauseId alreadydone something to make those things happen, he thought. And it was usually something that I knew would make trouble.It wastruehehadn‘t had alotof controlover hisown life, but at least he‘d had some, andhe‘dhad choices, even if it was only the choice to resist what other people had in mind for him.
But now - fate or chance was hitting him with one hammer blow after another, not even giving him the time to reel back from one blow before slamming him with the next. Being invited to join the Hawkbrothers was the first thing that had happened in days that involved any choice for him.
Andnowthat he‘d accepted, hefelt strange. Therewas a creeping sensethat hehad betrayedthe peopleof Errold‘s Grove in some way, andyet at the sametime he resented the fact that he felt that way. What right had they to claim his loyalty?Why should he chain his fateto theirs?
There was guilt, too, a great dealof it, and hewasn‘t at all surewhat to do about it. What had happenedto thefolk of thevillage? Hehadn‘t madeany realeffort to findout. Surely heought to at least do that. And no matter what Snowfire said, how could anyone be sure there was nothing that he could have done that would have saved Justyn? Maybe if he‘d been besidehismaster on that bridge, the way any good apprentice would have been, the outcome would have been different. All right, so he didn‘t haveany realmagic yet, but he‘d learneda lot atthe sideof hisparents, andmaybehe would have been ableto do something that would have saved them both. I could have jumped off the bridge when heset itafire, and dragged him along with me. I can swim, even ifhecouldn„t. Or - His mind buzzed with a hundred absurd things he might have done, or could have done, or thought he could have done, and all of them just made him feel guiltier.
He becameso engrossed in histhoughtsthat he didn‘t realizethat thehorsehad stopped eating and was sneaking through the forest at a fast, if furtive, walk, until he saw a landmark he recognized with a start. Heknewthen thatthey were getting far.too closeto Errold‘s Grove for comfort and made a grab for the reins.
But the horse was an older hand at this game than he was; with a flip of its head, it tossed the reinsout of reach, and increased itspace. Darian didn‘t haveto be ableto read itsthoughtsto know what they were - the beast had scented its herdmates, and it was going to get back to them by whatever means it took. The blacksmith had explained once why all the horses in the village were kept in asingleherd; horses weren‘t happy alone, andeventhough theErrold‘s Groveherd wasn‘t a breeding herd, thelack of a stallion was no impedimentto thehorses‘ comfort in each other.
This horse probably felt the same about the rest of the horses he was used to being with, and no dim memory of mistreatment was going to overwhelm the urgent need on his part to get back to the safety of the herd. Darian considered trying to throwhimself out of the saddle, but the horse was going faster now, and suddenlythe ground seemedvery far away to aboy who‘dnever donemore than stealrideson the innkeeper‘s old pony. With thehorsemoving, hedidn‘t knowhowto get himself out of the saddle and onto the ground without breaking something. So he just held grimly to the saddle, grittedhisteeth againstthe jolting, and prayedthat they wouldn‘t run into any enemy sentries.
Thetrees cleared away up ahead, and Darian felt his heart stop with terror as he thought they were almost at the village. But the horse hesitated as thetree cover thinned, and Darian managed to seize the reins before the recalcitrant beast managed to bolt into the middle of town.
But then, Darian realized that the daylight ahead of them was not the daylight of the cleared fields. Somehowthe horse had managed to come out of the forest at the top of the only bluff that overlooked the village. How it had managed that, Darian had no clue, but once he dismounted and led the horse cautiously to the edge of the bluff, hehadas good aviewof thevillage as if he‘d been sitting in one of the trees.
But what he saw made his skin crawl, and filled him with the desperate feeling he had to do something, along with the knowledge that there was nothing he could do.
In the distant fields were people, people he recognized, toiling like beasts in the heat of midday. Hitched to plows like oxen were the biggest men of the village, sweating beneath the blows of a whip held in the hands of a stranger. Behind them, guiding t he plows through the fields meant to be sown with late-ripening crops, were the women, who were also chained in their places. Others worked, chained atthe waist in pairs, beneath the watchfuleyesof more strangers.Thesemen weren‘t wearing the armor that Darian remembered, but he knew they must be the same men who had invaded the village.
As to why men were being used to pull the plows instead of oxen, well, the smell of roasting beef coming up the bluff certainly provided a reasonable explanation. There were no oxen now, and the horses had probably been confiscated to serve the army.
How many of the villagers had been recaptured? Enough, evidently, to provide field-slaves for their conquerors.
Darian found his hands clenched on his bow without any memory of reaching for it. He could sneak in closer, get aposition up in oneof thetrees, and start pickingoff guards. They weren‘t wearing armor;they‘d be easy shots
I could kill all the guards I see and they could escape, I could lead them to the Hawkbrothers
Right. He could kill all the guards that he could see. How many more men weretherethat he couldn‘t see?If they‘d gottentothepoint this quickly of killing andeatingtheoxen - tough meat at best
Anger flooded him next, anger at the Hawkbrothers. Why hadn‘ttheytold him thetruth?
It faded as quickly asit came. They hadn‘ttoldhim, perhaps, becausethey didn‘t know themselves. It was entirely possible that this was the first day the villagers had been put to work in the fields. Why should the enemy have put them out? It would have been more logical for them to take their captives away; sellthem, perhaps, or put them to work in their own fields back in the northern mountains.
Unless, of course, they had decided to stay.
He couldn‘t do anythinghere, andthis was information that theHawkbrothersdidn‘t have. He had to get back, as quickly as he could.
Itsnotcowardiceto go. I cantdo anything bymyself, and Starialland the rest need to know whatshappened here.
Carefully, he backed the horse into the heavier cover before he mounted. He considered his next movecarefully. Hehadn‘t really been paying attention when thehorsetook off on itsown. Somehow, if there were sentries (and there probably were) the horse had managed to thread its way past them without being spotted. So if hecould retracethehorse‘spath, hecould do the same.
Finally, finally something he could do right! He felt a grin stretch his mouth, an expression that had not been on his lips since his parents died. If? Say rather, how quickly. The day he could not track a shod horse in the soft earth of the forest floor would be a day when he renounced his heritage and asked to be apprenticed to a clerk!
He had to cast around a bit before he found the clear trail; it had gotten a little muddled when he finally got control of the reins back from the stubborn beast. But once he found the trail, the rest was easy.
He soon saw howthe horse had gotten up onto the bluff without his realizing it;the beast had wound a zigzag course uptheslope, takingthe ascent so gradually that hehadn‘t known they were climbing. He was tempted to cut straight down, but reminded himself that the horse had managed to avoidthe sentriesthisway; it wouldn‘t bea good ideatotake what appeared to be a shorter path only to run into one of the enemy.
Thehorse didn‘t want to beridden away from itsmates, andfought him for agood longtime, which didn‘t makefindingthepath more difficult, but didtakeup morevaluabletime. It was sunset by the time that Darian got to a point where he was fairly certain that there were no enemies to watch out for. Bythen, thehorsewas tired enough to stop fighting, which was just as well, because Darian‘s temper was frayed to a thin strand, and he was in no mood for further nonsense.
With aclear path ahead of them, Darian finally got somerevenge;he smackedthehorse‘srump with his unstrung bow, startling it into atired gallop, and headed for the Hawkbrother encampment as fast as the miserable beast would go.
Weary and aching, Darian found himself the center of another Council, but nowhe understood what was being said, which was certainly an improvement over the last time.
Hweel had met him outside the valley, and Snowfire at the entrance; Darian had feared anger or reproach for being gone so long, but to his surprise, Snowfire had been perfectly calm right up until themoment hehad gotten within speaking distanceand blurted,I‘ve been to Errold‘sGrove! They‘reall slaves!
Snowfire‘sexpression had changed completely in that moment, and Darian found himself swept off the horse and into the middle of a Councilthat was assembled so hastily that people actually came running to the clearing while pulling on tunics or holding half-braided hair in one hand. Hertasi simply appeared with boots, shirts, food, hair-thongs, or anything else that had been forgotten, and vanishedagain. Oneof them left abowl of stew, bread, andtea at Darian‘shand without him ever actually seeing the food left there, just the flash of a departing tailtip.
As firelight flickered on the concerned faces of his Hawkbrother hosts, he alternated bites of stew and gulps of tea with words of explanation.
The only person missing from this council session was Starfall, but although no one said anything, Darian guessed from what wasn‘t saidthat Starfallhad morethan enough problemsof his own.
Finally the others stopped firing questions at him and began a worried discussion among themselves. Darian turned his own attention to the remains of his meal, too tired and hungry to really think of anything else. As he wiped the bowl with his bread, Wintersky came and sat on a rock beside him.
I hopeyou don‘tthink we deceivedyou, Dar‘ian,theyoungman said, leaning forward earnestly. After theway that KelandHweel werecaught by thosemagic-sniffing creatures, we didn‘t want to risk anything or anyonethat might set off more such guardians, and someonekept us from being ableto use scryingto set a watch on theplacemagically. And it didn‘t seem advisableto risk being seen ourselves theenemy doesn‘t knowwe‘rehere, and if he did, hemight decideto attack. We were certain that allthe barbarians had werehouses, somestock, but never people. If we‘d had any ideathat those barbarians had your people, we‘d have riskedmoreto find out for certain, then to do something for them 
I know!Darian interrupted, just as earnestly. He scratchedhis head, and gave Wintersky an anxious smile.I was madat first, but, well, I had a lot oftimeto think on theride back. I trust your word; I knowthat if you say you would have done something, if you‘dknown what was goingon, then you wouldhave.
Weshould havemade sure.
Darian looked up, and saw Snowfire standing over him, his eyes expressionless and flat, shadows flittingover hisface asthe light from thefire shiftedand changed. We shouldhavemade sure,the Hawkbrother repeatedharshly. That was a mistakeon our part. I‘m sorry, Dar‘ian.
Darian shrugged awkwardly.Wintersky was explaining and I‘d kindof figured someof it out myself. Youthought everything was allright. Andyou and Starfall werebusy,hereminded his mentor shyly.Youtold me yourself, you have to fix the magic so no one else can get at it  Suddenly, thethought he‘d set asidelast night came backto him.Snowfire, howareyou doingthat? Are you making just - uhm what‘sthe word-nodesthe way they usedto be?
Snowfire‘sexpression changed, andhelooked down at Darian with speculation.Not exactly. Why?
Darian licked his lips, and wondered just how stupid he was going to sound. After all, compared to whatthe Hawkbrothers knew, hedidn‘t knowmuch of anything about magic, really. But still. . . .
There‘s definitely amage withthe enemy, right? Darian asked. I mean with them, at Errold‘s Grove, not just working withthem or behindtheattack.
Snowfirenodded. I cannot imaginehowthey could be blockingour scrying if there wasn‘t.
Andthemageis goingto wantthat power he‘d haveto wantto grab for it.Hebit hislip, hopingthat he wasn‘t goingto makeatotalfoolof himself.And I guess if there was a big source of power, he‘dtry to get to it, right?Before Snowfire could answer that, heasked another question. Andthere areway too many of thoseenemy soldiersfor us to fight, right?
Snowfire looked both guilty andrelieved.Far too many for usto takein direct confrontation, he acknowledged.Yet I do not knowhowwe areto freeyour people, otherwise.
But what what if you baited a bigtrap for them? Darian asked.What if youmadea big sourceof magic, madeit showup allof a sudden?Wouldn‘t themagesendout men, maybea lot of them, to try andtake it over?
Or loot it,Wintersky suggested, his sleepy eyes brightening. If youmoved it arounda little, hemight get the idea it‘sportable and send hisfightersto loot it for him. Hemightthink it was an artifact someone had found.
AndI knowtraps, lotsof traps, Darian offered in eager triumph, holding out onehand as if he was offering hisknowledge as a gift. My parentsandI, that‘s what we did. A lot ofthe animals we trapped were as big as humans, or bigger. We could take a lot of the enemy out with traps, without ever needing to send anybody closer than bowshot. You set a trap that blocks them from going back the way they came, then youmake surethat they can‘t get back without having to go through all your other traps.That‘scalleda channelingtrap. Maybe we could even fix things up so that theenemy has to divide up into small groups. Why, if we did that, we could just have one bowman up in a tree near eachtrap, and what thetrap didn‘t takecareof, hecould!
Snowfire looked at him, and beamed with the most wonderful expression Darian had ever seen.
Respect.
And what was more, others among the Hawkbrothers, who had overheard the conversation, were looking at him in the same way - and those who had been too engrossed in their own conversation to hear were whispering questions to those who had. In another few moments, they were all looking at him that way, and silence replaced the murmur of voices in the clearing.
Just howmanytraps do youmean, when you say lots oftraps, Dar‘ian? asked Rainwind, a scout only a little older than most of the rest. He stood up and joined Snowfire, a man who was a little more weathered, alittleshorter, and a little stockier than Darian‘smentor. Weknowsome, obviously, but trapping is not the way we usually deal with things. We are more direct and, to be honest, more accustomed to having a superior force. What traps we do use are for snaring game, not stopping soldiers  He shrugged.
Darian blinked, and made a quick mental survey of the traps he and his parents had used for large, dangerous, clever animals. I knowby heart maybe six or eight major different kindsthat would work against a man or severalmen at atime,he said finally. Maybemore;we might be able to adapt others I know by disguising them, or we could combine some. I grew up making traps in thispart of thePelagiris. Someof what we caught wereprobably smarter thanthese barbarians.
Someone whistled through his teeth with admiration.
So you‘d already knowhowto adaptthedesignsto usethelocal cover! Snowfireexclaimed, his whole body taking on a new animation.
Darian nodded. Entirely using foundmaterials, too,hesaid earnestly.Weonly carried basic tools with us when we went out trapping, and adapted what we found at the different locations. The most we ever carried were some metal triggering devices and those were mostly just time savers. I can showyou someexamplesof thetraps I knowif youcan standto watch. I‘m not just talking about different kinds of pit-traps. I know howto set a pit-trap to get a lot of people instead of just one or two, I knowof snares and drop-nets that will get more than one, a couple kinds of channeling-traps, deadfalls with wood, deadfalls with rock, ankle-traps, leg-breakers, foot-piercers  He began rattling off thekinds oftrapsthat could be set in such away that wary enemy soldiers wouldn‘t seethem until it was far too late, and the eyes of his listeners either widened or narrowed according to the nature of the listener. The others rose to stand around him, until once again he was the center of a circle of listeners. Trapping is just a different kindof hunting. My father saidthat it was hunting while absent, using the ultimate in disguise - not actually beingthere!
If wecan dothis- if we could lure a good number of their people out  Snowfiremurmuredto himself, as his eyes widened.
If you can lurethem out and we can channelthem past thebluff, or through acoupleof other placeswherethere‘sonly one way to go, I can show you where and howto rig a deadfallthat will blocktheir way back! Darian assuredhim.There isoneplace wheretheriver isvery deep and dangerous and the path beside it is narrow, and if you can weaken one of the overhangs, we can drop a largepieceof the bluff just behindthem atthat point.Then they‘ll have to go the way we channel them.
Andthat will be a gauntlet of furthertraps. Snowfire‘slipsthinned with satisfaction. It is cruel, perhaps, but havethey not earned such an ordeal?
Yes!Darian responded fiercely. Nodding heads showed thattheothers agreed with him.
Showus! demandedoneoftheothers;paper and acharcoalstick appeared when Rainwind left the group and returned with them in his hands, and Snowfire conjured a mage-light to give Darian brighter and steadier illumination than firelight. Darian hunched over the first sheet, drawing a map.
Here, here‘sthevillage, andhere‘sthe bluff, and here‘s wherethebluff goes uptothe riverbed; farenough from thevillagethat they just can‘t callfor help. He sketched in the landmarks with a careful hand.Now, if we rig adeadfall here,when it‘striggered, it‘ll completely blockthe way back. It‘sall sandstonethroughthere;too dangerousto climbtherockpile, or at leastthat‘s what they‘llthink. Their only choice will beto climbthecliff, swim the river, or keep going.
What‘sto stop them from swimmingtheriver?Wintersky asked. Someof them didthat when they attacked your village andthe bridge burned.
“Us,” said Ayshen, as he strolled into the firelight, his sharp teeth set in a grim smile. He had oneof hisenormous cookingknives in onehand.Forgiveme, Snowfire, but thismay bethefirst time in my memory that there has been a combat where hertasi might be of service. We can swim like fish - how do you think we catch them, so big and so fresh? - and any clumsy human foolish enough to be in thesame water with us will not liveto learn hismistake.
Or if he does, it will not befor long,added another hertasi in his shadow, who then ducked shyly out of sight.
If they stay out of sight,the enemy won‘t even knowwhat‘s attackingthe swimmers,Rainwind pointedout. They‘venever been here before, for allthey know, that part of the river could be inhabited by gigantic, mankilling Changed fish. They‘llhaveno reason to think of traps at that point,
:I fancy we can be of service in the woods.: Tyrsell was nowhere in sight, but it was obvious he had been listening to the Counciltalk. :Exactly how, I am not yet sure, but certainly we will be useful in some capacity. I will have to see the territory, first.:
If nothing else, perhapsthe dyhelicould drivetheenemy into further traps,offered Daystorm, a femalescout. It would be usefulto havethem in apanic, fleeingfrom the soundof many hooves. And again - it would just look like animals. It seems to me 
Go on,Snowfire urged, whentheother hesitated.
Well, shesaid. It seemsto methat weought to keep things looking like it‘s accident or Changedanimalsas longas possible. If we do that, they won‘t actually be looking for traps for a while.
Eventually  Snowfire began.
Oh, eventually, atrap will looklikeatrap, of course,sheadmitted. But it would be very useful to have them thinking that fate - or the Forest has suddenlyturned against them.
Andtherrre isss, of courrrssse, myssself,Kelput in gravely, sounding quitecalm - but the pinning of his eyes gave away his excitement. His wings were extended a little, as if he wanted badly to be in the air at this very moment.
“Not ifthey have bows, Snowfirereplied sternly. You arehardly arrow-proof. And in the air you are a very largetarget, especially in the day. So was Skandranon.
Kel‘sonly reply was a snort, but it was obviousthat Snowfirewas goingto standfirm. I amthe scoutleader, andyou aretacitly working under my command, Kel,heremindedthe gryphon. He didn‘t add anything else, but Kel sighed.
Very well,the gryphon said, giving in.Commanderrr.
Wehave an advantage, Snowfire continued.Many of us are Master-level mages; we can help create these traps with magic at a low enough levelthat working this magic will not immediately attract the attention of the enemy, especially if we shield what we are doing. So we can work quickly, much more quickly than if we didthiswith hands alone.
Darian studied his crudemap.I wish we could getthem all with a single deadfallhere,he muttered, and looked up hopefully. Couldyou bring downthat much rock?
Snowfire sighed. Beforethe Storms, it would havebeen possible, with a waiting crack-spell, which would create a split at an angle that would cause a slide, when it was triggered. Now - no. That kind of spell, onthat scale, wouldn‘t remain stablelong enough with theway mage-energy is in flux it depends upon tension through its length. We will probably be able to catch the tailmost rank with what crackspells we can set, but no more.NowtheHawkbrother joined Darian in close examination of themap. It might even be worthwhileto do nothingmore than block their way. As Daystorm pointed out, so long as they think the fall of rock is accidental, they will simply carry on with their original mission, and worryabout findinganewway back whenthey‘veobtained what they were sent after. Wedon‘t want them swimmingtheriver, of course, but otherthanthat, we could leave them alone for a while. We could lead them quite a merry chase before we start eliminating them with trapsandtricks.
Kel laughed, a deep, rumble. In fact, my frrriendsss, we could let them marrrch unhinderrred and make a night-camp - and rrremove theirrr sssentrrriesss one by one. Sssilently, if posssible. He examined his talons critically,andheldthem up, shiningredly inthefirelight. Think ofthe consssterrrnation when the next watch came up, but the onesss to be rrrelieved werrre poof! Gone!
Snowfire looked up at him sharply, with one browraised.You,hesaid severely, arean evil creature.
:I like it,: Tyrsell countered. :That would be a place where we could be useful. It is no difficult thing for one of us to come upon a man silently and unseen.:
I like it, too, seconded Ayshen. Wemight beableto help there, if we aren‘t too tired from swimming.Threeor four of uscould swarm a sentry, andhe‘dnever hear or see us coming.
If we didthat,Windshadowpointedout. If wetriggeredthe deadfall, set up thetraps, and left the harrying to our hertasi and dyheli allies, we could go in that same night and get the villagers out. Even if thebarbarianshavea wayto get messages back andforth, it won‘t dothem any good. The leader in the village is going to be preoccupied with clearing the blockage, not watching his back, an d the leader in the expedition is going to be busy with shadowfiendspicking off hismen one by one.
That would also be dividingour forces,Snowfireobjected,then sighed, and scratchedhishead. No, it wouldn‘t really,he corrected himself. The hertasi would be of limited use in a raid on the village, and the dyheliwould serveonly astargets.
:True, and I would refuse that assignment if you were to give it to me,: Tyrsell replied calmly. :This plan plays to all our strengths. Perhaps Kel could come with us?:
I can go along as well, Nightwind offered. Tyrselloughtto commandthe group, but I‘m not bad with a bow, youknow. KelandI could work together.
Snowfire lookedas if he wasthinking about theproposition very hard, andfinally nodded. It‘s the best division of labor,he agreed. Andthebest useofthelimitednumber of fighters we have. Dar‘ian can tell us and showus what to do, andoncethetraps are all in place, we can set the plan in motion.As Darian looked up at him anxiously, Snowfirepattedhis shoulder reassuringly. That will takeno morethan half a week. Surely your friends can holdout for afewdays, can‘tthey?I know they werebeingmistreated, but they weren‘t in any danger of beinghandled brutally, werethey? Darian wasn‘t certain, but henodded anyway. It wontdo anygood to rush in therebefore we „re ready, he reminded himself.A fewmorebeatingsarentgoing tomake that much of a difference. Even if it doesmake a difference this is better than their alternatives.
It‘s settled, then.Snowfire said decisively, then shook hishead.I wish there wereanother way, buttheredoesn‘t seem to be.Hepointedto Wintersky andWindshadow. Youtwo go scout with your birds and make us some good maps of the area tomorrow; figure the best direction to herd the barbarians, and whereto get them to makea camp, after we blocktheir path behindthem.
The Hawkbrothers nodded, andSnowfireturnedhis attention back to Darian.Now,he said. About thosetraps. . . .
Hours later, hands still smudged with charcoal, Darian stumbled back to the ekele, thinking longingly of bed. He stopped just long enough to wash his hands and face before stripping off clothing that still smelled of horse, getting into a clean set of night clothes, and lying down on the pallet. He was keyed up enough that hedidn‘t really think he‘d beableto fall asleep quickly, but he was either better at relaxingor much moretiredthan hethought, becausehe didn‘t even remember closing his eyes.
He woke as Snowfire and Wintersky came in, whispering about something, and propped himself up on oneelbowto blink atthem. I‘m awake,he called softly. AnythingI shouldknowabout?
Wejust workedouttentativeplacingfor your traps, and waysfor the hertasito trigger them, Snowfiretoldhim, raisinghisvoiceto amorenormallevel. I didn‘t expect youto beawake, but I‘m glad you are. You made allthe right choicestoday, andyou deservecredit for doing so.
Right choices?Darian repeated, puzzled.
Oh, you could have gonecharging right intothevillage, thinkingyou couldfreeyour friends, but you didn‘t, Snowfiresaid, hisvoicemuffled inthefoldsof his shirt as he pulled it over his head. You stayed long enoughto makedetailedobservations, then youcame straight back here. You didn‘t wastetime with accusations and carryingon when you got here, you simply told us what you knew and then offered constructivesuggestions. In short, Dar‘ian, you behaved in every way asa man and a warrior, and I am very proud of you.We allare.
Darian felt hisneck heating up and avertedhis eyes. Ah,he stammered,thank you. I I don‘t want anything bad to happen to anybody, and  He gulped, and decidedto tellthe rest of thetruth. Thehorse brought meout on thetop of thebluff, not down atthe edgeofthevillage. If I‘d been closer, I probably would have done something stupid. But there was no direct way down from there, and, well that‘sprobably why I stoppedto think.
You stillmadethe right choices. Snowfire sat down on hispallet, blinking at him with eyes that looked as large and dark as Hweel‘s. That is an important thing for youto know.
Heyla it‘sgoingto be an early day tomorrow, andthenight isonly getting shorter for allyour talking,Wintersky pointedout, a little crossly. We do not allfly owls, here. He was already lying on his sleeping pad, and he glared pointedly at the magelight above Snowfire‘s head.
Snowfire chuckled, andthelight blinked out.Good night, Wintersky,he said. And good night, Dar‘ian.
Hmph,Wintersky replied, mollified. Goodnight.
Goodnight, Darian said softly. Helowered himself back down onto his pillow, and the next thing he knew, Wintersky was shaking his shoulder, and it was morning.
The day wore on, filled with explanations and examples of trap placement and construction. Around him, there were the sounds of wood being chopped, branches split, and snippets of conversation in Tayledras. Darian caught himself feeling like he was playing, once, while he bent and notched saplings for lashing-traps. He felt a pang of guilt, since after all he was engaged in acts of war, to cause pain and even death to those who had done the sameto his village.
My village? I suppose theyare, when all iscounted up. Theywerent thepeopleI would have chosen to be with, but they were better than alternatives.
Yet, making traps was at least something familiar, from a better time in his childhood. It brought back wistful memories of his parents.
He sighed, thinking about them while he tied off his fourth or fifth lasher, then hacked away steadily at a branch as thick as his upper arm. Things would have been so much better if they were here with him now. His mother always seemed to knowthe right things to say, or how to touch in just the perfect way to put him at ease. His father was always so strong and capable, with a quick smile.
Dar‘ian?atimidvoice asked from below a bush. T wo small, pebble-scaled hands held out a cup of water from under the cover, and nothing else of the hertasi could be seen. He wiped his brow and murmured a thanks to his largely-unseen benefactor, then drank the cup dry. In a blink, after setting the cup down, it was gone, and a second hertasi voice spoke from behind another bush.
Dar‘ian, thestakesyourequested are stackedon theeast sideofthe red boulder.Wehopethey will be enough. Wego nowto preparethevines.
Then there was the slightest rustle of leaves and the sound of scuttling through underbrush, and Darian was alone again.Well, Id better seehowmanytheymanaged to getdone.
Im getting nowhereon thisbranch, and myarmshurt. Ifwe canthaveenough ofthese traps ready to stop the soldiers, we might only wind up injuring them enough to enrage them, not discourage them. Darian sheathed his knife and started off toward the place the hertasi had told him of. Hertasi were amazing to him - shy ghosts with astonishing speed and industriousness. What were their parents like? He found it hard to imagine them having families like his, or the Tayledras. And what about the. . . ?
At that moment, a large shape detached itself from the shadows of the thicket surrounding the red boulder. Darian froze in place and then relaxed, exhaling sharply when he sawthe shape resolve itself into golden-tipped feathers, the hook of an aquiline beak, and the flip and flash of a huge wing refolding against a feathered body. The gryphon stalked out, looking directly at Darian. He seemed impossibly huge even at this distance, yet Darian knew that was only a trick of the mind.
He caught himself blushing, wondering howlonghe‘d been underthe creature‘s scrutiny. Kelvren looked down, picked from several clear spots for the most comfortable, and sat down, waitingfor Darianto approach. The gryphon‘s chest rose and fell quickly ashe apparently recovered from some physical effort or other, and his gaze appeared to soften the closer Darian came to him.
Grrreetingsss, Darrr‘ian,Kelvren rumbled ashedippedhis beak in anod. I havejussst completed brrringing the ssstakesss the herrrtasssIhavemade. They arrre behindtherrred blouderrr.
Darian nodded selfconsciously.I heard. I mean, oneof the hertasitoldmethat‘s wherethey were I didn‘t knowyou‘d brought them,though. I hopethere‘s enough ofthem.
Kelvren‘seyessparkled and amoment later he wryly said, I thinktherrrewill be enough. Then he raised his head, flicking atufted ear, and blinked a fewtimes before opening his beak. Kelvren paused, rousedhis feathers, and bluntly asked Darian, Whattrrroublesss you?
Darian frowned. Was it obvious?
Kelvren clucked. If you werrre not trrroubled, I would sssussspect you of not being human. But youarrretrrroubled, ssso, Changechild you arrrenot. Ssspeak.
All right. Do youhaveparents? Darian askedthegryphon.
Chah!Kelvren barked. No, I wasss borrrn ssspon-taneousssly of an arrrtissst‘sss drrream and a villain‘sss nightmarrre.
Darian blushed.I‘m sorry. It was astupid question. Of courseyouhadparents.
Kelvren raised his beak upto point atthe sky,then looked back to Darian.If you mean, do I know my parrrentsss and rrressspect them? Yesss. Verrry much ssso. And do I misss them now? Yesss. Verrry much ssso.Hetook a step towardthered boulder, and Darian followed. One doesss not out-grrrowthe feelingsss of fledging, jussst the intensssity of the feelingsss. It isss the way of thingsss.
Darian was incredulous, and stopped in histracks. You?Youmissyour mama andpapa?
Thegryphon walkedon without pauseandrumbledonly,Don‘t you?
Darian caught up. Well, yes, but you‘re agryphon 
And you arrre a human, and we werrre crrreated by humansss, and live with humansss, and learrrn frrrom hu-mansss, and we arrre farrr morrre like you than you know. Why ssshould humansss have exsssclusssiverightsssto any anxsssiety?
Darian had to laugh atthat. I guess you‘reright. You probably shareyour gryphon anxieties with ushumans,too!
Thegryphon nodded firmly and winked, stoppeda fewstepsafter reachingthe boulder. It isss only fairrr, afterrr all. Hepointedhis beak, ana Darian was astonished at what he saw.
Stacked in bound bundles of twenty or more were sharpened stakes, in different thicknesses, piled as high as he was tall. There must have been hundreds of them, if not thousands.
Maybethis plan would work after all.
Snowfire had always considered himself to be in fine shape, but the need to favor his wounded arm was throwing everything off a little, including his balance, and as a result, he ached with unaccustomed strain. A full day of work on man-traps had been more than enough to show him that he probably ought to be in better condition than he was. He was stretching and twisting his good arm as heapproached Starfall‘s clearing and ekele, hoping to ease some of the aches.
Hweel was already ahead of him, waitingon aspareperch beside Starfall‘scooperihawk. Snowfire carried a rough meal of cold sliced meat, flatbread, and wild berries wrapped in a napkin. Ayshen was not cooking today, for he was needed to help set thetraps, and although he would not have complained had he been asked to cook a supper as well, no one wanted to place that double burden on his too-willing shoulders.
Nevertheless, they all had to eat; it would be cold meat, greens, and flatbread for as long as those lasted, and after that, each of them would be in charge of his own food. That was not exactly a hardship for a Hawkbrother; rabbits and tree-hares were plentiful and the birds more than willing to share a catch with a bondmate. Snowfire had already decided that he would see that Starfall ate and drank; if Starfall‘syoung bird failedto make akillout of inexperience, Hweelwas such afinehunter that he could have supplied the needs of six people, not just three.
He found Starfall sitting cross-legged in the center of a containment shield in the clearing beneath the willowbranches. TheAdept‘s eyeswere closed, but he sensed Snowfire‘spresence as soon asthe scout arrived, for he motioned to his visitor to sit and wait without ever taking his attention off what occupied him. Obediently, Snowfire did just that, taking weary pleasure in watching the way the light filtering down through the branches changed from pure gold, to reddish gold, to dark red, and finally to the blue of dusk. The clearing could have been in the heart of the deep Forest, it was so quiet and peaceful here, and Snowfire was content merely to rest both mind and body while he waited for the Adept to complete his current task.
He did not even conjure a magelight;hedidn‘t want to disturb either Starfall‘s concentration or the delicate balances of power within the containment shield. So the ball of blue light that appeared abovehis head wasthe Adept‘s, not his, and was Starfall‘sway oftelling him thatthe work wasover for now. There was no outward change to the figure within the shield, but a fewmoments later the shield dropped away and Starfall stood up, stretching.
Here, Snowfiresaid, handinghimthemeal. Ayshen saidI was responsiblefor making sure you eat. So what sort of progresshaveyou made?
The enemy mage istryingto consolidatepower for himself, andhe‘stryingto work his way through allof thelocksI put on thelines,Starfallconfirmed. Fromthe way he‘s working, tryingto bludgeon his way through, I think he‘s under theimpression that it‘s crude work, possibly doneby that master of youngDar‘ian. I don‘t think herealizesthatthereis stillan active worker about, andI knowhe isn‘t awareof me.
As long ashekeepsthinkingthat, I‘llbe pleased, Snowfire replied, helping himself to some of the berries.
I havethebarehint of apower-point out alongthe river,Starfallcontinued, laying asliceof meat neatly on a slice of bread, and roiling them up rogeiner. I strengthen it gradually, as you are setting upthetraps;he‘llnotice, but it won‘t beenoughtotempt him. But oncethetrapsare done, I‘ll remove it and put it on a dyheli;then I‘llpour enough energy into it that it will look tasty, andI‘ll have the dyheli move it farther down theriver alongtheriver path. Atthe sametime, I‘llbuild an illusion around it of a heavily armed caravan moving away. I want to create the impression that the river has uncovered atalisman or artifact, andthat someonefound it and iscarrying it off.
Even if that isn‘t what hethinks, he‘ll stillassumethe caravan has somethingtasty and sendhis fighters. Snowfirenodded with satisfaction. It‘sa good ruse. Just makesureyour illusion won‘t be broken.
It shouldn‘t be;I‘vegotten a dyheli doe tovolunteer to carry it. Starfallappliedhimselftothe food. I‘m linkingthepower-pointto her onceshe gets into position, but not before. I don‘t want to have a moving powerpointto attract hisattention untilthen. Andonce we‘re done, of course, I‘ll gather it back in and use it asthecoreof the Heartstone.
Snowfire swallowed, andraisedhis eyebrows. So you aregoingto makeaHeartstonehere?
A smallone,Starfallconfirmed, as he finishedhis first meat roll and built a second. Not powerful enough for a Clan Vale, and at any rate, it will take a long time before it has accumulated enough energy to be useful. It will be four or five years before anyone could use it to create even a small Vale.
Snowfire was not at all sure he liked the idea. He‘dthought of severalobjectionswhen Starfall broachedtheplan, andthoseobjectionshadn‘t changed. Still. A Heartstoneout here?Why?And who areyou goingto link into it, besides yourself?
Why?Why not? Starfall responded, apparently surprised that Snowfire would object at all. Sooner or later thek‘Valdemar will produceamagethat can usea Heartstone - or we will want an outpost here. You have all complained at one point or another about the lack of civilizing amenities here; well, a Heartstone will makethosethingspossible, eventually.
Snowfire grimaced. Andmeanwhile?Wouldn‘t it attract unwanted attention?
Starfall shook his head and took on a little of that arrogance that seemed to come with being an Adept.Oh, do trust meto know my business, Snowfire; by thetime I am finished with concealing it, only anotherTayledras Adept who knewthat it wasthere would be ableto findit.
I hopeyou‘reright, Snowfirereplied. Never mind; what more can youtellme about this enemy mage?
He‘scertainly strong enough to bean Adept, or whateverthese barbarians call such athing. Starfall folded and refoldedthenapkin pensively. If it cameto afight, he‘snot amatch for me, but he would exhaust a great deal ofmy resources in defeating him. I don‘t want to haveto dothat, andto keep from coming into direct conflict, I will haveto be subtle. Subtlety requires time and concentration, rather than power. He‘spowerful enough that it is goingto takeallmy attention to keep him from breaking the illusion, finding our encampment, and tapping into the newmatrix of ley lines andnodes.
Which means when wemove against thevillage, you stay here. Snowfirenodded. I rather thought you‘d say that. I can leave someonehereon guard, if you like.
Why not Nightwind and Kel?Starfallsuggested. She‘s agood shot, andhe‘s worth five fighters in intimidation alone.
And it would keep him out of closecombat;nowthat is agood idea. Snowfirefelt a bit more cheered. He‘d beentryingtothink of a wayto keepthe gryphon from flinginghimself into situations wherehe‘d be atarget rather than an asset, andthis was perfect.Put him inthe air and Nightwind at the valley entrance - put a couple of hertasi and dyheli in thevalley right here, around Starfall‘s ekele, acting as bodyguards - that would work very well. No matter how clever enemy fighters were, they wouldn‘t get past thecombined sensesof a gryphon, hertasi, and dyheli. If somehow there was a concerted attack by a formidable group instead of an incursion of one or two fighters, Starfall would have warning, covering fire, and time to escape.
And Kel would rightly see this as a trust and an important assignment - which it was - rather than an attempt to keep him out of combat - which it also was.
Howarethetraps coming? Starfallasked, asSnowfireranthrough hismentalroster of hertasi and dyheli and made some tentative selections.
Not so badly that anyone is getting frustrated, and not so wellthat anyone is nervous, thinking that things are going too well. The hertasiareapproaching it with their usual zeal, andthey‘ve been makingenough trap partsthat Kel‘shadto struggleto keep up with carrying, even with dyheli helping, Snowfiretoldhim, andpicked up a smalltwigto drawinthe dirt with. Here‘s wherethe main deadfall will be, along the river. We got that done first, before sunrisethis morning. We found a place where a flood undermined the sandstone of the bluff and cut under it a little f arther; if there wasn‘t amagicalprop holding it up now, it would be down in an instant. Thereis goingto bemore than enough stoneblockingthepath that they aren‘t goingto want to go back that way. This morning, we cut a path and aged it, then made things so difficult on either sidethat they aren‘t goingto want to leaveit.Hesketched inthepath, leadingaway fromthe river. Weput in alog bridgeoverthis ravine herethat isgoingto fallapart as soon as anyoneputs afoot on it. They‘ll either have to rebuild the bridgeormake astrenuous climb down and back up;in either case, they‘ll betired, and it‘llbe dusk by thetimethey reachthisclearing. Hemadea circleandtapped it with thetwig.
Thenthat is wherethey‘ll stop, Starfall eyed it with interest. Andthat is when the hertasi and dyheli begin removing sentries and other woodswanderers?
And while someof them are doingthat, therest ofthe hertasi will be setting the traps we set up today along thetrailthey came up from the river on. Snowfiregrinnedat Starfall‘s look of surprise. Exactly. No matter which waythey try to go inthemorning, they‘ll run into man-traps. I didn‘t see any reason to givethem an unhinderedpath in any direction. By thattime,they‘ll already know they‘re under attack, so there‘sno point in putting a lot of effort into makingtrapsthat will look like accidents. When they trigger thesetraps, they‘llknowit‘s something left forthem by an enemy.
Good so far,Starfallmused.But you can‘t get allof them withtraps. So?
So theman-traps themselves form a channeling-trap. Tomorrow when we set everything up, we‘ll be leaving oneeasier direction here.Hedrewa sweeping arrowtowardapatch of green moss.They‘ll comeout intothe clear, with no placeto go for cover and a ravine at their back. It ought to be no difficult thing for the hertasito pick them off with bows.
And at any rate, by thetimethe survivorsstruggle backto thevillage,the rescue should be long over. I likeit. Starfall nodded decisively.
Even if themage atthevillage can communicatewith thefightersout here, they won‘t beable to get back intimeto do him any good. It‘ll bethemiddleofthenight, andthewoods will befull of hertasi with knives and traps just waitingto besprung. Snowfirenodded, feeling very pleased with himself.Andto avoid leavingatrail back hereto theencampment, we‘re goingto try to getthe villagersacrossthebridge andtakethem downrivertothat Kelmskeep place Dar‘ian told us of. I think if anyone follows us, it will be that way, and I hope there will be a force to meet us from the Valdemarans.
I have sent amessageto Lord Breon of Kelmskeep, that reachedtheplacetoday, Starfall confirmed, butthen frowned.Thething is, I do not know if it will be heeded or even seen by the man himself.
Howdid you send it?Snowfireasked.
A written message, delivered by raven to thegatekeeper this morning; Raindance sawit through the bird‘s eyes. Shesaidhe seemed startled. Starfall shrugged. Ittook the birdthis longto reach Kelmskeep;thebest we can hopefor, Ithink, isthat an escorting forcemeet youontheway.
Snowfire sighed, well awarethat the Adept was right. Best to count on what they had, not what they hoped they would have.
Well, I leaveallthemagic doings in your capablehands,hesaid.
AndI will leavethe rest in yours. Starfall stood up and stretched, and walked back into the center of the clearing, where hetook his seat again and closed his eyes. A moment later, the containment shield had sprung up around him. Snowfire whistled to Hweel, who was still gossiping with the cooperi, and the great owl launched himself into the air to follow him back to the main encampment.
:What were you two chattering about?: he asked his bird.:You dontusuallyhavethatmuch to say to the day birds.:
:Mates,: Hweel said shortly, then elaborated. :He may be young, but he has a mate. He has two fledges this year, now flying strong.:
Snowfire sensed that there was more. :And?: he persisted.
:They come, all five. His mate, mine, three fledges.:Hweel‘smind-voice was tentative, as if he was afraid that Snowfire would object to the arrival of his mate and young.
That wasthelast thing on Snowfire‘smind. Although he wasn‘t bondedto Hweel‘smate Huur, she worked with Hweel so effectively when she wasn‘t tendingyoungstersthat hemight just as well have been. And having aclumsy fledgling around wasn‘t a badthingas long asyou could keepthe youngster closeto the camp.
:Illbe glad to see them,:hereplied, and sensedthe relief in Hweel‘smind. :lt was clever of you to have his mate come with yours; the fledges will have protection by day and night on the journey.:

Hweel huured, a contented little sound of pleasure from which his mate got her name. He liked being praised, and he had greatly missed his mate, so knowing that Snowfire would welcome her arrival made him doubly happy.

It would be no bad thing to have a couple of unbonded birds along with the expedition either. They would make excellent camp guards, and if the unthinkable happened and someone lost a bird, there would be possible replacements at hand.

Enough; concentrate on the immediate problem, he reminded himself. He needed to collect Darian and some paper and a charcoal stick; it was time to make a detailed plan of howto get into and out of the village.

He‘d left Darian about to takehisturn inthe bathingpool;by nowtheboy should be clean and ready for something to eat. Snowfire was terribly proud of him, for Darian had worked as hard as any of them, and had masteredhisfrustration admirably when someone didn‘t quiteunderstand what it was he wanted for a trap. The boy had matured a great deal in the last week, t hough it was clear every so often that he was still a boy.

When this is over he needs some time to play and be young, Snowfire concluded to himself. But right now, well, none of them could afford to be anything other than mature and responsible.
He collected more meat and bread from the stores;the berries were gone, but when Ayshen heard who this next meal was going to, he pulled Snowfire aside and passed him a honeycake surreptitiously. Thehatchling didn‘t get enoughthe last time I madethem,Ayshen said, as if daring him to challenge the statement. Since Snowfire had seen Darian stuffing himself with the coveted sweets, and knew Ayshen knew he had, it was clear that the hertasi had taken very strongly to the boy.
I‘llmakesureheknows who sent it, Snowfirereplied, andcarriedthetreasureoff. He‘d seen Ayshen watching the boy out of the corner of his long eye; evidently this was thehertasis way of rewarding hard work.
Hemet Darian on thepath, hair damp, dressed in fresh clothing.Here, I brought you something to eat,Snowfiresaid, holdingthenapkin out to him. There‘sahoneycakeintherefrom Ayshen.
Thereis?Darian looked aspleased as if it had been a lump of amber. I love Ayshen‘s honeycakes! Where can we go so I can eat, and help you with those maps of the village you wanted at the sametime?
Let‘stry thecouncilclearing, Snowfire suggested.There‘s a gameplacetherethat no one is goingto be usingtonight. We‘llhave adrawing surfacethere.
Darian nodded, his mouth already full of bread and meat. He followed Snowfire to the clearing and at the far side Snowfiretook over the game place, a flat sheet of rock balanced on a stump that served as atable, and two more stumps, one on either side of it. He took the taller of the two, and Darian tookthe shorter, ashespreadout thefirst sheet of paper andtook out a scribingrod.All right,he said, making a diagonal linefor thebank ofthe river. Here istheriverbank. Let‘s start there.
Put oneedge of theforest here, andonehere, Darian suggested, pointing with asticky finger. Andthebridge would be here. He devouredthe last crumbof his cakeandlicked hisfingersclean while Snowfiresketched. Right, nowput the back edge of theforest there.Theroad goes from the bridge to thecenter of town, and stopsthere. Here‘sthemill, with the waterwheelthere. There‘sthe forge.
Snowfire was agreeably surprised atthe lad‘sclear andprecise ability to remember andplace everything in the village, but there just weren‘t enough adequateareas of coverto sneak anumber of people in without getting caught.
. . . andhere‘s wherethe aqueduct starts,Darian was saying, andthe words brought him out of his thoughts with a jolt.
Aqueduct?he said, suddenly interested. What aqueduct?
Weuse it to bringriver water to thefields in summer,Darian explained. See, it goesaround through the middle of the planted fields, then to the cistern house and the watering trough in the center oftown.
And where does it stop?Snowfire demanded.What‘sit madeof?
It stopsat theriver, I guess, Darian said, confused by the sudden barrageof urgent questions. There‘s awater-lifting wheel besidethemill that brings water up to the aqueduct and that brings the water out oftheriver down to thefields because it‘s always sloping down from where it starts. Asfor what it‘smadeof hollowtreetrunk, mostly. It‘scoveredto keep trash out of it.
Is it big enough for aman to crawl in?Snowfirepersisted.
Oh, certainly and I see what you wantto do! Suddenly Darian was allsmiles. It‘sabsolutely big enough for aman to crawl inside. What‘smore, even though we use it all summer, I doubt that anyone‘stendingto it now. I can‘t imaginea bunch of barbariansthinking to irrigate the fields, and I doubt that anyone in thevillageis inclinedto helpthem by tellingthem thatthe fields need water.
So it startsat theriver? Snowfireasked.Where, precisely?
NowDarian‘sfacefell. I don‘t exactly know, he confessed.It‘s allovergrownthere;I know it‘s somewherenear themill, but not exactly. At least, I don‘t knowwhattheplacelooks like at night. It‘srealtall, though, becauseotherwise it wouldn‘t beableto slopedown to thefields.
But if we can find it, we can get right into theheart ofthevillage undetected.This was exactly the sort of thing Snowfirewas lookingfor. Dar‘ian, your memory is so good, surely you can remember wheretheaqueduct starts!
But Darian shook hishead unhappily. I knowwhat it looks like, but I can‘t tellyou whereto find it,heconfessed. I only remember that it‘snear themill, not in it. Helooked up at Snowfire hopefully.I could guide you,though.
Snowfirefrowned. I don‘t want you anywherenear possible fighting,heobjected.
But if you won‘t let meguide you, howdo you expect to convincepeopleyouaren‘t adifferent kindof enemy?Darian asked shrewdly. Noneof them have ever seen a Hawkbrother, andthey‘ll probably befrightenedof you!
That wassomethingelse Snowfirehadn‘t thought of, and hehatedto admit it, butthe boy was probably right. Still, it went against the grain to permit someone as young as Darian anywhere near combat.
He argued with the boy for some time, and in the end Darian had more good, sound reasons why he should go than Snowfire had counters for them.
All right,Snowfire sighed.You can guide us. But just to aplaceof safety, mind! You aren‘t to rush in andtry to help if there‘sfighting. You‘ll only get in the way, and you might make someone lose his concentration and his life.
I promise!Darian agreed, his eyes shining.
Snowfire only hoped that both of them - and ultimately, the village and the Hawkbrothers would not regret this decision.
Seven
Now, in some ways, came the worst part. All of thetraps were constructed and set, and now camethe waiting. Daystorm hadher birds over thevillage, whileStarfallcreatedhisbait, andthe nagging question was, would their foe take it?

If he closed his own eyes, Snowfire could picturethe scene as clearly as if he himself werethere. A flock of five crows perched in atreeabovetherooftopsof Errold‘s Grove, an unusually silent gathering, but no one in the village seemed to notice either their presence or their silence. Through their eyes, Daystorm watched the activity in the village below. T wo of the crows were bonded to her, the rest werethe offspring of her original pair, but all were willing to lend her their eyes and wings, especially when the activity at hand promised to be entertaining. Snowfire occasionally envied the Tayledras who bonded to crows and ravens; the birds had tremendous senses of humor, and as a matter of course, when the original bird took a mate, the mate also became his or her bondbird. Sometimes Hweel‘ssober dignity was a little wearing, andhewould have welcomedtheraucous hooliganism of a band of crows; he would also have welcomed having both halves of a pair as his bondbirds. He sometimes worried that having an unbonded mate gave Hweel divided loyalties.

Last night the dyheli doePyreen had taken her place upriver, carrying the double burden of an illusion of a heavily guarded caravan and the newly-strengthened power-point. She had remained stationary until daybreak, then moved slowly southward, mimicking the plodding pace of heavilyladen mules. By then Daystorm‘s birds had already been in placeto see if themagesomewhere below would take the bait. Tentative experiments had proven that either the mage could not sense anything different about the bondbirds, or that there was enough magical energy in the form of his own Changedfightersto mask themagicof the birdsandtheir linkstotheir bondmates.To Snowfire‘s mind, that only confirmed his impression that it had been Kelvren that thewatchdogshad reacted to, and not Hweel.

Daystorm was simply sitting quietly with her back braced against a tree at the side of the Council circle, with an eager audience waiting around her. Shetook it all in stride, including the audience; there was very little that rattled this experienced scout. She sat so quietly that she could have been a painted statue, for her chest rose and fell so slowly that it would be very difficult to tellthat she was breathing. Her hair, shorn short on the sides, cut into a stiff crest on thetop, and braided in a long tail down her back, never moved in the fitful breezethat came with sunrise, contributing to the statuelike illusion.

Finally she brokethesilence.There‘ssomeactivity aroundtheLutters‘ house,Daystorm announced. Someone just dashedout. Now he‘s going aroundto allthehousesof thevillage at a run. He‘spounding on thedoors and shouting something at each house. Nowtherearemen coming out of the houses, one out of each, walkingfast towardtheLutter house.

Well, that confirmed the guess that whoever was in command of this force had taken over the Lutter house, which - although it was not the largest - was definitely the finest house in the village, according to Darian. Lutter had been one of the dye-merchants, was still the only merchant in the village, and was possibly the wealthiest man in Errold‘s Grove beforetheStorms. By now, of course, his store of ready cash was used up, but his house and the contents were still the finest in the village.

So, naturally, the place would be taken by the most powerful person in the invading forces, and that person appeared to be the mage. That was good to know, but it did leave several questions unanswered. There was a quest ion of who was in absolute control - was the magethe definitive leader, or did he serve a military leader? Was there more than one mage, and if so, how powerful were the others? So far, no recognizable mage had come within view of any of the birds.

Just the usual, now, Daystorm announced. Snowfire sighed;after several daysof observation, they had a good idea of the usual daily schedule. Oncethe sun rose, the villagers were roused from sleep by the slavemasters - they had all been crammed into the threshing barn, which was the least weathertight of all of the village buildings, serving merely to keep rain and damp away from grain while it was being threshed from the stalk. Men, women, and children were all housed together, and at a rough guess, the barbarians had managed to round up and take most of the villagers prisoner. Everyone, old and young, regardless of physical condition, was expected to work in the fields or do menialtasks.Thenumbers didn‘t add up exactly, but there wereprobably afewspecial slaves in the houses, serving the barbarian leaders and elite fighters, and thus, exempt from field work.

The fighters are comingout to practice.Every morningthefightershad limbering andpractice sessions before they ate. The fighters were most ly housed in the barns, though some of them had taken overthehousesthat thoseof higher rank didn‘t want, crammingtwo andthreetimesasmany people into each dwelling as the houses had been intended to hold. But, from all Snowfire knew of their way of life, they were used to cramming themselvestogether like wolves in a winter den, and probably didn‘t thinkthey were suffering from overcrowding. Afterthepracticesessions wereover, and the morning meal distributed and eaten, the leaders would pick out men for hunting parties and fishing parties, and the rest would be drilled in formation-combat. That was quite unlike the barbarians Snowfire knew of, who fought as individuals rather than groups. This signified a new and disturbing development, and something that would haveto be looked into when he had thetime.
If I ever have the time.Well, he‘d madenoteson allof this, and if everything went wrong, Starfall would take those notes with him as he escaped to safety.
Daystorm collected more of an audience as the morning passed; after all the preparations, the Tayledras were on edge and eager to get into action. Ayshen had somehow found the timeto bake more flatbread, and hertasi were passing around rounds of the stuff wrapped around bits of honeycomb.Snowfiretook oneandmunched it without evertakinghis eyesoff Daystorm‘s face.

She took one without ever opening her eyes, but then, she had always had an extra sense where sweets wereconcerned. They‘re callingthefighters in to eat. Stillnothing fromthe Lutter house.
I wish we dared send a bird down to theroofto seeif it could overhear anything,Wintersky muttered to him. Snowfire nodded agreement; he would have given a great deal for a set of ears in or on - that house.
In no way would he have ever endangered a bird by putting one there, however. Some of the barbarians knew what T ayledras birds looked like, for there had been conflict along the northern ranges with barbarians beforethis. Even if it somehow escaped notice that the bird in question was much larger than normal, well, bored barbarians with bows tended to make targets out of anything that moved.
Including each other - they seemed to find it howlingly funny to shoot blunted arrows at each other, with the intended target trying to dodge and the bowman trying to hit in an embarrassing and potentially excruciatingly painful place. Snowfire had spent a great deal of time in the past few days, watchingtheir anticsthrough Hweel‘seyes.
He had noted that they seemed to have done a pretty thorough job of looting the village, not that there was much to take. Clothingthat didn‘t fit orthat was for achildor afemalewas either cut up or putto other purposes. Toolsthat weren‘t neededfor immediatefield work hadalready goneto the forge, presumably to be remade into weapons. Food and drink were gone, of course, and there were rapid inroads being made on the ripe stuff in the fields; any objects of metal had been melted down, either to be made into ingots or into arrowheads. Livestock had either been eaten or would be soon, except for horses, which had been taken for the mounted fighters. Anything valuable was presumably in thehands of theleadersby now. There wouldn‘t be agreat dealfor thevillagersto salvage when this was over. Hopefully they would be grateful just to escape with their lives.
Ah! We‘regetting some activity!Daystorm exclaimed. The leadersarecomingout of the house nowthey‘reheading forthe fighters. They‘reshoutingorders. Most of thefighters are running back to thebarns, except for a couple who are goingto thehouses. Oh, they‘re coming back with theleaders‘ armor, andherecometherest of thefighters withtheirs. Everyone is getting into armor. No,that‘snot quiteright. Everyone exceptthemounted fighters is getting into armor they‘re getting ready to sendout araiding force. I think it‘s working, Snowfire. He‘stakingthe bait.
Soundsto methat sinceyour illusion only shows pack-animals, he‘skeepinghismounted troopsbehind,Rainwindobserved shrewdly to Snowfire, leaning over and speaking in a low voice to avoid disturbing Daystorm.
That would make sense,Snowfire agreed. It would be best not to risk them on this. Heknows that his foot troops can easily overtake a pack-train, and why take the chance of losing a mounted fighter who ismuch more expensiveto replacethan a foot soldier?It‘swhat I‘d do.
Right, they‘reall getting into formation, strapping on their armor,Daystorm reported. And packs. They‘retaking light overnight packs. So the mage has a pretty good idea of how far thetarget is likely to get beforethey reach it.
Snowfirenodded with satisfaction.That was good; it meantthat themagewouldn‘t think anythingof it when histroopsdidn‘t makeit back by nightfall.
Daystorm continued to report on preparations, and then finally said the words he had been waitingfor.This is it. They‘removingout, andthey‘retakingtheriver road, exactly as we wanted them to.
Excellent! heexclaimed. It wastime for thenext stage, but hedidn‘t haveto telltheothers that. Daystorm would leaveher crows standing sentry at thevillage, butWintersky‘s bird would pick up the departing troops as they reached the river. Hweel had already p assed word of the departure to Sunstone(or rather, Sunstone‘sfalcon);Sunstonewas stationedat the bluff and would trigger the avalanche blocking the road. Wintersky would count them and pass the number on to Sunstone. Sunstone would wait untilthe last ranks were in view, then let the stone bluff fall. They had agreed that, although it would be a fine thing if they actually caught some of the enemy under the rock -fall, they wouldn‘t actually try for anything more complicated than blocking the path behind them all. It would be a disaster to have even one of the enemy fighters left on the village side of the blockage, for he would return to get help, and the mage would detect thetelltale traces of magic in the fallen stone.
So, the rock would fall, the enemy force would be whittled down. They would soon find that the riverside path that had been so easy to follow deteriorated into a hellish nightmare of washouts, slippery rockslides, and narrow ledges where only one man at a time could pass. The river itself was swift and deep there, and anyone who fell in would fall prey to Ayshen and his friends. Nor would bodies bob to the surface with obvious knife wounds, for Ayshen had weighted ropes to keep them on the river bottom. Allthat anyone above would know was that those who fell or jumped in were pulled under and never reappeared. That should thoroughly discourage would-be swimmers.
When a path leading inland appeared, it would be welcomed with relief, and the steep ravine with its derelict bridge would seem no great obstacle until the men tried to cross it. Only then would they learn that the sides of the ravine were crumbling clay and gravel, and the bottom was a morass of sticky muck as deep asaman wastall, or perhapseven deeper. It hadn‘t always been that way, but ever since Snowfire opened up a spring at the bottom, it was. As difficult as it was to climb down, it was even harder to climb up. They probably wouldn‘t loseany mentothe climb, but they‘d be wet, filthy, and exhausted before it was over.
Meanwhile, the rest of the hertasi and the dyheli were all in place, waiting for the exhausted and demoralized enemy troops to get to the spot chosen for the ambush. The hertasi were making the place look very attractive without making it look like a trap. Signs of old campfires and just enough deadfall wood piled up would leavethe impression -that others - perhaps the very caravan they were following - had camped here before. There was a clear, cold spring near enough to the campsite that someone should stumble over it, and between that ready source of water and the wood already at hand, the situation should be too tempting to resist.
But that would be for later tonight. Now it would be another long wait until the enemy troops marched past Sunstone, late this afternoon.
Nowthat everyone knew the enemy was on the move, the group waiting around Daystorm broke up. Snowfire looked up to find Darian at his elbow, waiting patiently for the scout to notice him.
What is it, little brother? Snowfireasked.Do you wish to changetheplan for tonight?
No!Darian exclaimed. No - I mean, I - I amafraid. I‘m scared, but I don‘t wantto back out or anything. I just I just need somethingto do.
Snowfire understoodonly too welltheneedto havesomethingto do before aplanned engagement, but he was at a losstothink of anything. Finally hehad an inspiration. Please - practice thoseexercises in magicI have shown you,he said earnestly, andtry to think of ways in which they could be used tonight. We will need every weapon at our disposal; remember what I said about the way that a smallapplication of magiccan be usedto a great effect.
Darian grimaced a little, but nodded and trailed off to find a quiet place in which to practice.
Hweel, Hweel‘smate Huur, and their young fledgling watched him move off with unblinking gazes. Then Huur yawned hugely, her youngster did the same a moment later, and both of them shut their eyes and hunched their heads down to sleep. They had arrived last night, and were pro bably exhausted. They had certainly eaten hugely of the bounty that an excited Hweel had provided for them.
Hweel practically radiated contentment as he sat beside his mate and their bumbling youngster. Huur was considerably larger than Hweel, as was usually the case with birds of prey, and Snowfire paused to consider whether he really wanted Huur to bond with him. After all, Hweel was quite a burden; Huur would be worse.
Well, it wasn‘t within hispowerto decideone way or another. It was thebird‘s decision, not his. And meanwhile, Hweel was overjoyed to have her beside him and that was no bad thing.
Snowfire had his own ritual of preparation to begin. He had things timed to a nicety, so that his hours would be occupied and his mind would not be idle to make up scenarios of disaster.
First, heran through hisown magicpractice, though he didn‘t haveto think of ways in which smallmagics would be usefulintonight‘s raid, for hehadplenty of experiencealongthoselines. All the while he practiced, he sat across from Daystorm, with one ear cocked in case she said anything about activity in the village. He put himself through his paces, pushing to speed up the time it took for him to work a particular piece of magic, by even a fraction of a breath. That was always what he worked toward; it would be useless to try for more power, for he had reached the limits of his ability there - but it was always possible to try for more speed.
By thetimehewas done, it was about noon;heleft Daystorm‘s side just long enough to collect food for himself, Daystorm, and Starfall. He left Starfall‘sration just outsidethecontainment shield, though Starfall was so deep in concentration that the Adept never noticed he was there. That was all right; the food was covered andwouldkeep, and Starfall‘s bird would keep pests from carrying it off. Then hetook Daystorm‘sration to her, andthe scout accepted it with thanks.
There‘snothing unusual goingon at all, shesaid, tearing off a strip of driedmeat with her strong, whiteteeth. She looked very much like a fox when she did that, and Snowfire wondered if she knewit. Theonly thing going on isthat themountedfighters areallpracticing, mostly on each other. I think they‘repleasedthat thefoot soldiersaregone; it givesthem more spaceto practice in.
That‘sprobablytrue,heagreed, and grinned.Let‘shopethey forget it‘spractice andtakeout a fewof their own.
She laughed, and he turned his attention to his bondbird. :How close are they to the trap?: he asked Hweel, who was in contact with all of the bondbirds.
;Close,:Hweeltoldhim, and showed him what Rainwind‘sfalcon sawfrom high above, so high that the men below her would not see even a speck in the sky overhead. It would not be long now untilthe first of the troops reached the undermined section of bluff.
They‘regetting close,hesaid aloudto Daystorm. Keep aclose eyeon theLutter house; if this magehasany way of communicating withtheother troops, we‘llfind out about it soon.
He held to the vision of the river road as seen through the eyes of the circling falcon, watching as the antlike, foreshortened figures crept along at a maddeningly slowpace. The falcon knew exactly where the fall was to take place, and centered her circle on that part of the bluff. There was no way to communicate with Sunstone, but part of Snowfire ached with tension, hoping he would not drop the rockfall too soon. The tiny figures crawled onward, completely unaware of what waited for them. Half of them were past t he bluff now, with most of the rest beneath the area wherethe rock would come down. Most of the rest
Not yet, Sunstone, not yet. Let them pass
Nowthey were either past the fall area, or within it, but there was always the chance that the rock would not fall as they thought, letting one or two escape.
Not yet, not yet
There! The last of them was past the halfway point!
A little puff of dust at the base of the bluff was all the warning Snowfire had; Sunstone had released the fall.
It began slowly, as thesethings always did; a trickle of rock from thetop, a rumbling sound, then the first signs of the slide. Most of the enemy fighters reacted immediately; they looked up, and ran downriver, away from the village. Three hesitated, started to run toward the village as Snowfire bit off a curse. Suddenly, as a few rocks hit the trail in front of them, they paused, and reversed themselves. But that hesitation was fatal; in the next instant, they were buried beneath a cascade of dirt and rock that ran out into the river. A huge cloud of dust rose and obscured everything, even for a falcon‘s sharp eyes, and Snowfire waited impatiently for it to clear.
Finally the strong breeze from upriver cleared it away, and he sawthat there would be no passage back across that fall for anyone. They had managed to drop far more than he had estimated across the roadway; until it all settled, it would be insaneto try and climb it. The enemy fighters milled around the edge, as if wondering whether they should make some attempt to rescue their three companions. Evidently they decided against it, or their leaders did, for after a bit more confused meandering, they formed back up into ranks, and moved out along the river again.
Snowfire broke contact with the falcon with a feeling of fiercepleasure. Thefirst stage worked perfectly!hetold Daystorm.Any sign from themagethat heknows what happened?
She shook her head. Nothing at allout of theordinary,shereported.Youought to check with Starfall, though. Hemight havenoticed something.
That was an excellent idea, and he was not at all loath to follow it. He brushed the dust off his trews and loped up thetrailto Starfall‘s ekele, hoping that the Adept was not too lost in his work to speak to him.
As it happened, Starfall was just finishing the last of his rations, and greeted Snowfire with a wave of hishand. We‘ve droppedthe bluff;it workedperfectly, andthey lostthreeintherockfall, Snowfirereported. Haveyou noticed anything from themage?
Only that he‘stryingharder than beforeto takecontrolof thelines and nodesfrom me,Starfall replied. He‘s getting aggressive;I think he‘s getting extra energy from his fighters. Arethey doing anything unusual?
Only themounted onesareleft;Daystorm saysthey‘repracticing against each other, andthat‘s unusual, becausethere isn‘t a lot of room for them to practiceordinarily.Snowfirecockedhis head to the side.From what I saw, themounted fighters arethe least disciplined. Would that be enough to generate extra energy for him?
Probably; it isn‘t a lot, butthese days, when there isn‘t a lot of energy to behad, amage would grasp at anything. Starfall blinked, and rubbed hiseyes. At least he isn‘t practicing blood- sacrifice.
I‘llsaythismuch for the barbarians; so far asI know, they don‘ttendto stooptothat. They‘ll use thepower generated by slaughter on a battlefield, but they won‘t practice blood-sacrifice. Or at least, not of humans. He grimaced.Let‘shopethis lot runstrueto form.
Dar‘ian would never forgiveus if anything likethat happened, Starfallmuttered, and shook his head.Well, he‘s duefor another try, andI needto beon guard;keep meinformed if you can.
Starfall raised the containment shield again, and sank back into histrance. Snowfire left him with his falcon standing watch and returned to Daystorm.
I think you can drop theclosewatch on thevillage,hetoldher. Starfallsaysthemagehasn‘t reactedto what we did at all.
She sighedwith relief. Oh, good. If I don‘t get myself stretched out, I won‘t be any usefor the raid. I‘ll leavethehooligans in place;I don‘t needthem here, andthey‘llcallme if something catches their attention.
Goodplan,hesaid approvingly, and went to check on the others.
Wintersky had taken charge of building their packs; each of them would carry an identical load of climbing staff, short bow, arrows, and throwing darts. The idea was notto get into combat, if they could avoid it;the idea was to free the slaves and guard their backtrail. Snowfire wished he had some other sort of magic than thetype he had; it would have been so useful to be able to turn water into drugged brandywine and arrange for the remaining barbarians to find it!
Seventeen Tayledras and one adopted boy would be the whole of their army; Nightwind and Kel would remain behind to guard Starfall, with five dyheli and three of the most timid of the hertasi. Wintersky had finished seven of the packs, with ten more to go; he was checking each and every weapon with utmost care as he packed it, and there was a small pile of rejected arrows beside him. Snowfire didn‘t interrupt;hehadthe job well in hand.
Seventeen against how many? We must be mad. Yet if they could just avoid rousing anything or anyone, theodds of pullingthis off were good. Or at least, they weren‘t insurmountable.
Time to check on someone whose optimism more than equals my pessimism. He left Wintersky and took the path that led to the pools and Kelvren.
The only quiet place to practice was beside the bathing pools, and Darian was morethan tired of repeating histiny magics over and over when Kelvren provided a welcome interruption.
What passsesss, brrrancherrr?the gryphon called, asheflewlowoverthepool, craning his neck to the side to keep his eyes on Darian. When Darian waved at him, the gryphon executed a slow and graceful gliding turn, then backwinged to a perfect one-claw landing on the rock edge of the pool beside Darian. Darian had to duck his head and shield his eyes against the dust storm kicked up by the gryphon‘s wing-beats, but he grinned a greeting anyway.
Nothing much passesexcepttime, andthat‘spassingtoo slowly!he complained, asthe gryphon settled himself with a couple of crisp wing-flicks. He noticed that Kel had a bundle in his right fronttalon, which heplacedonthe ground behindtherocks, just out of sight. I wantto do something, not just sit here!
I agrrree,Kelrespondedreadily. But I happento have sssomethingyou can do. Do you sssuppossse you could give me a hand with grrrrooming? Nightwind isss bussy prrepar-ring herrr weaponsss, the herrrtasssI arrre all gone orrrr busssy, and I am no grrryfalcon, to have handsss that holdtoolsss well.
Help Kelvren? In a heartbeat! Darian was absolutely thrilled to be asked, and jumped to his feet, preparedto do anythingthat Kel requested.Do I needto get anything special?he asked anxiously. The feather-oilor anything?
Not featherrr-oilsss,thegryphon replied,I haveever-rrything we‘llneed.Thisss will be battle preparrrationsss.
With his foreclawthe gryphon picked up the bag which he put down in front of Darian. He opened it and spread out the contents on the ground. It contained the usual brushes and combs, but also held files, a thin and flexible chest protector that was clearly made to fit over the chestplate on Kel‘sharness, and a set of sharp metal claw-sheaths.Thesssefit overrrthetalonssss, Kelsaid, indicatingthemetalsheaths.You‘llhaveto filemytalonsss to fit; they arrre a bit longerrr than they werrre when I wasss fitted with thessse.
Darian picked up the set of three files and the right-side set of sheaths and went to work, as Kel advised and corrected what he was doing. He found that if he sat just under thegryphon‘s chin with his back against Kel‘schest, they wereboth ableto see what was going on clearly and weremore comfortable. It was very pleasant, sitting there with his back against the feathery warmth of his friend, working diligently with the files on the shining black talons. He could almost forget why they were makingthesepreparations. He couldn‘t help thinking what theother boys Of Errold‘sGrove would say if they saw what he was doing now.Wouldnttheir eyes just pop! They wouldn„tbelieve whatthey wereseeing! Imagine, me, helping take careofa real, livegryphon! Why, next thing, Illbe helping trap a snow-drake or something.
Thetalon-sheaths fit over each claw and were held in place with a glovelike web of fine, strong leather straps. The workmanship was really ingenious, and the articulation was perfect. The sheaths didn‘t really extendthe length of thetalonsallthat much, so Kel would still beableto walk, land, and pick things up. When Darian finished fitting the whole contraptionto Kel‘sright leg, the gryphon had what was effectively a set of four single-edged knives on the end of his leg. Not only did each sheath taper to a point as sharp as a needle, but the first third of each had a real sharpened edge for slash ing.
Kel flexed his foot, and looked at it with a mixture of pride and chagrin, his huge golden eyes blinking slowly asheadmiredthe shiningmetalnowcoveringeach talon.Harrrdto walk in,thessse, becaussse of allthedamage. You don‘t want me anywherrre nearrr a tent, forrr insssstancsse. Sssstill. They prrrotect my rrrealtalonsss; metal won‘t brrreak the way atalon can. Andobviousssly, - a weapon can‘t chop oneoff.
Darian nodded soberly, and set to work on the left -side set.Id hate to see how awful it would be if a talon did get chopped off. He could bleed to death! Much better to have the sheaths, even if they were a bit awkward to wear. When he finished, Kelvren reared up on his hindquarters and made a few experimental slashes inthe air. Perrrfect!hesaid with agleeful sparkle in his eyes.Youmay be mytrrrondiirrrn any time!
Oh, I don‘t knowaboutthat,Darian replied, blushing with awkwardpleasure. I don‘t knowa fraction of what Nightwind knows, and anyway, any of the hertasi could have helped you just as well. Let‘s get this chest thing on you, allright?
Sssurrrely, Kel agreed, dropping back downto allfours. It goesss onto theharnessss - ssssee the bucklesss? Then the neckpiecssse wrrrapsss arrrround thethrrroat.
The protective armor would never withstand the blows of a sword or ax, but it would protect against arrows; it was made of overlapping articulated plates of a light, strong metaltotally unfamiliar to Darian, backed with athin leather that was the toughest such substance Darian had ever seen. Unlike thetalons, which were a satin finished, highly-polished silver, the chest protector was a matte black and would not betray Kel by reflecting light. The wholething didn‘t even weigh asmuch asa single ordinary breastplate for a smallish human - but then, it would haveto be light if Kel was going to fly while wearing it.
When Darian finished buckling it onto the harness, Kel gave himself atremendous shake to settle it, and had him tighten two or three straps, then shook himself again.
Urrrr,hesaid, clickinghis beak meditatively. Not themossst comforrrtablethingto wearrr. But then, I havehearrrdthehuman Sssilverrrsss sssay the sssameof theirrr arrrmorrr.
It could be worse, youcouldhaveahelmet and astomach plate andthings,Darian pointedout. Kel shook his head comically.
I think not!the gryphon exclaimed.I would not beableto walk, much lessss fly! Thisss isss bad enough, and I would not wearrr it had Nightwind not insssisssted. I fearrr it looksss rrridiculousss.
Well! You looktremendously warliketo me, Darian toldhim, stepping backto admirehim from a little distance.Very impressive. Terrifying, in fact.
Oh, do I? Kelexclaimed, ingenuously pleased. Terrri-fying?Trrruly?
Truly,Dariantold him.If I weretheenemy, I‘dtakeone look at you and run, I wouldn‘t stick aroundto findout what youcould doto me.
And the gryphon did make a daunting sight, with the metal breastplate and neck guard forming what appeared to be a seamless black shell over his chest and neck, one claw upraised, and the metal talons gleaming wickedly in the sun. It was no exaggeration to say that Kel would probably have frightenedany of theErrold‘s Grovemilitiamembers into scuttling back to the village, metaphorical tail between his legs.
But would he have the same effect on the barbarians? The plain truth was, virtually anything the militiathought of as amonsterhad sent them scuttling back to the safety ofthevillage. What did he knowabout fighting? Only what he‘dheard and read in books.
I just hope we never find out, Darian thought, keeping his doubts to himself.Id rathernotknow than have those barbarians turn up here.
I think if I was Starfall, I would feelcompletely securewith youon watch,he said aloud. I wouldn‘t need anybody else.
Rrreally? Kel archedhisneck, andhis eyespinned with excitement. Youarrretoo kind. I am only averrry juniorrr Sssilverrr.
I agree with him, Nightwind said, emergingfromthe shadows of thepath.You look quite formidable, Kel. Starfall will feel quite secure with youon guard, and rightly so. You‘re goingto do a finejob.
Kel‘sneck archeda littlemore, andhepractically purred.Thank you,he said.I hopeyourrr confidencssse is jussstified.
Nightwind smiled. I‘m a trondiim, remember?I‘veserved quite afewgryphonsinthepast. I haveno doubt of it.
In Darian‘sopinion, Nightwind herself looked just as formidable asthe gryphon;shehad a breastplate made much like his, with gauntletsto match, a light helm, and a bow that Darian would never dream of beingableto string, much less draw. Hecouldn‘t seethe business-end of the arrows she carried in a quiver at her belt, but he had no doubt that they were more of the nasty, man-killing type that theT ayledras were using tonight.
Her hair had been braided back tightly into a no-nonsense knot at the nape of her neck, and there wasn‘t a singleextraneous bead or feather on her spare, uniformlike costume. Like Kel, her breastplate had a badge embossed on it, and he peered at it curiously.
She noted wherehis eyes went, and smiled.This isthebadge of the Silver Gryphons, shetold him, thefingersof onehand lightly caressingtheedge of theemblem.Keland I are both Silvers, the only ones in the group. I don‘tthink they quiterealizeyet what that means.
Why isn‘t anyoneelse?heasked.
She chuckled. Becausewe aretheonly two Kaled‘a‘in here, shetold him. Wearen‘t Tayledras at all - or rather, the Tayledras used tobe Kaled‘a‘in, but 
Thegryphon waved aclaw, interruptingher. Youarrreconfusssing him,Kelchided. Darrr‘ian, it isss sssimple. Longago therrre wasss onepeople,the Kaled‘a‘in. Whenthe Cataclyssssm wasss overrr, that people wasss sssunderrred. The Kaled‘a‘in Clan k‘Lessshya wasss farrr separrrated frrrom the otherrrsss, and thossse within it did not even know if the rrresst had ssssurrrvived, sssso they went to sssaferrr landsss, wessst and sssouth, and becamethe allliesss of the Black Kingsss. Forrr the otherrrr Clansss it was differrrent. Theirrr homelandsss werrre dessstrrroyed, ssso they found when they went to look. The otherrrsss quarrrelled overrr the ussse of magic - thossse who wanted to continue the ussse of it becamethe Tayledrrrasss, and thossse who wissshed to ssshun it becamethe Sssshin‘a‘in.
But becauseyour people weren‘t fightingover whether or not to usemagic, you stayed Kaled‘a‘in?Darian asked, scratchinghishead.But if your people went so far away, why are you here?
Because we decidedthat themoment was right to come back north and see what timehad made of thelands we left, Nightwindtold him, and smiledruefully. Littledid we guess that we‘dend up being here at the beginning of another Cataclysm! At least some of us managed to prevent this one, anyway. Kel‘s version is a veryabbreviatedone, and at somepoint, you‘llhaveto hear thewhole story.
Prrrobably frrrom oneofthe kyrrree hissstorrry-keeperrrs, Kel said, meditatively examining his steelsheathedtalons. Becaussse asss sssoon asssthey learrrn you do not knowthe tale, you will haveno choicsse butto hearrr it!
Nightwind burst out laughing as if Kel had said something terribly funny. Darian couldn‘t make out just what the joke was, but laughed politely anyway.
Well, thepoint isthat onlythe Kaled‘a‘in havethe Silver Gryphons, Nightwind continued, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.They serve alot of thesame functionsthat your Heralds do; peacekeepers, border guards, and asthe Kaled‘a‘in militia. Some day I‘lltellyou whythings turned out that way, but the fact isthat of all the people on this expedition, Kel and I are the only true warriors. Mind you, some of the others, Snowfire in particular, have seen combat but we‘retheonly ones actually trained as warriors. Onecorner of her mouth quirked in an ironic smile.To tellyou thetruth, I don‘t think Snowfire quite realizesthat about me. He stillthinks I‘m just an Empath and Kel‘s attendant.Wehaven‘t hadto get our battlegear out beforethis.
Notthat it matterrrsss,Keladded. Thisss isss what weprrrrobably would havevolunteerrred forrr if hehadn‘t asssked usss. I am a bit larrrgeto hide in awaterrrr-courrrse.
And we arethebest sort of guards hecould haveon Starfall,Nightwindfinished.That‘sone of thethings we‘retrained for;thereis alwaysa set of gryphons acting as bodyguardsto our chief ally amongtheBlack Kings.
But a new set of dazzlingpossibilitieshadopened upto Darian. Could I be a Silver some day? he asked breathlessly.
Nowthat isan interestingthought,Nightwind replied, looking at him with surprise. I never consideredthat possibility. Yes, I supposeyou could; you‘re far too young right now, but onceyou‘re atthe age wherewe accept candidates, you could train asa Silver, if you stillwant to beone.
Being amage would be an advantage,Keladded, his eartuftsprickedforward with interest. Magessss inthe Sssilverrsss learrrn combat-magicsss; verrry ssspecializssed ssstuff. It would mean anotherrr ssseverrral yearrrs of ssschooling.
Nowthat was a daunting thought. More training? But it might be worth it.
You certainly don‘t haveto make up your mindright now, Nightwind said, before he could even beginto consider theramificationsoftheoffer. Let‘sget through this, then finish up this expedition. By thetime we get backtoTayledrasterritory, you‘llhavea better ideaof what you want to do. And if that includes joining the Silvers, Kel and I will see that you get a chanceto apply and train.
He stammered his thanks, and helped Nightwind pack up the grooming utensils, aware in a dazzled fashion that he had gone in the past few days from having no choice in his future life to having a bewildering array of choices.
He did not remain dazzled for long. First we have to get through this. Then I have to make sure thatno one in ErroldsGrove thinkshe stillhasany claimson me. Then then I have to learn how to be a mage and a Hawkbrother. The enormity of thetasks still ahead of him sobered him quickly.
He glanced up at the sun, and judged that someone would probably come looking for him shortly. I ought to go find Snowfire,he began,
Snowfirehasalready foundyou, Nightwind chuckled, and pointedover his shoulder. He turned and sawthe senior scout coming out into the sunlight by the side of the pool.
The Hawkbrother eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Kel and Nightwind, though his lips curved in a slowsmile.Welladay!he said, with appreciation in hisvoice. I findallthreeofthe folk I neededto gather, and allin onespot. Very efficient.
Pure coincidence, Nightwind pointedout. But asyou can see, weareready to takeour posts.
Whenever you‘reready, Snowfiretoldher, with a little salute. Unlessyou can think of anythingyouneedto know, I‘llleaveyouto handlethe businessof guarding Starfall asyou seefit.
Darian had the feeling that Snowfire had intended to give Kel and Nightwind some careful instructions, and on being confronted by a pair of properly equipped professionals, had quickly revised his plans.
Thank you for your confidence, Snowfire, Nightwind said, without ahint of her usual irony. I hope we will prove worthyof it. Now, I takeit that you have cometo fetch‘ your guide?
I have,he said, andturned hisattention to Darian. I hopeyou areready, little brother, because we needto set off soon if weareto be in placeafter dark.
Darian nodded, unable to trust his voice, for he knewthat the fear rising within him would make it shake. Even if he wasn‘t brave, he didn‘t want Snowfireto guess. I have to go through with this. I let Justyn down; Imnotgoing to do that to Snowfire.
Come, then,theHawkbrother said.Nightwind, Kelvren, windto thy wings.
Goodhunting, Kel said, as Nightwind sketched a saluteto both ofthem, with a sly winkto Darian. That made him feel a little better; he managed to get out a proper farewell and followed in Snowfire‘swake to wherethe rest of the Hawkbrothers were gathered. His heart was in his mouth, and he felt queasy, but what needed to be done would be done.
For themost part, the journey was a blur to Darian; the Hawkbrothers set a pace he would never have been able to match if he had not been riding the horse stolen from the barbarians. He could not for a moment imagine howthey managed to keep up that steady lope for furlong after furlong. With Hweel andHuur providingeyesahead,they kept up the gruelingtrek long after sunset, and finally cameto a halt somewhere in the deep woods after full darkness fell.
Dar‘ian, you must get off thehorsenow, whisperedWintersky, who had been holdingthe beast by a lead rope to prevent it from bolting off the way it had the last time. We willturn the beast loose here, for we arenowgoing down to theriver.
Darian dismounted stiffly;thehorse‘strot hadnot been acomfortable gait, especially not for someone who never had been much of a rider. Wintersky untied the ropefrom thehorse‘s bridle, and used it to flick the beast on the flank. With an indignant squeal, it trotted off into the darkness, leaving them all standing beside one of the enormous trees. Beneath the whisper of wind in the leaves above, Darian heard thesoundofthe river; it couldn‘t betoo far off, then. They werevery neartheir goal, the end of the aqueduct that carried water to the village.
Come,Snowfire whispered; somehowhehad replacedWintersky at Darian‘s side.Do not fear to keep up; we must go slowly now, avoidingthe sentries.
As gruelingly swift as the pace had been before, it was now just as agonizingly slow. The Hawkbrothers moved from cover to cover, slipping in and out of the shadows like silent shadows themselves, and far quieter than Darian was. Darian winced every time he stepped on a rock or a twig, for the sounds hemade sounded as loud as shouts in the relative peace of the Forest.
But there were other things making sounds out here; he was amazed to realize how loud deer were, asthey came across apair of doesanda fawn, feeding. He‘d alwaysthought that deer moved silently, but they tramped through the sparse underbrush as noisily as he.
At last they reached the river itself, with no signs of sentries that Darian could see. But then, what did he know? Hweel, Huur, and Snowfire were probably the only ones who would know where sentries were, and the point was to avoid them.
The brush along the rocky riverbank was much thicker than under the heavy shade of the great trees; they had more cover to hide in, but there were more branchesto snap, leaves to rustle, and rocks to trip over. Wintersky found a gametrailthat wound in and out of the bushes, often requiring that they go on all foursto keep their heads belowthe covering undergrowth; Darian discovered that he had his hands full just following in his wake without making too terrible a noise. The river here did not make enough sound to mask their passage; though swift and deep, there were no rocks or deep bends to cause even a ripple along its tranquil surface. A chilling, damp breeze rose from its surface, penetratingDarian‘s clothing.
It seemed to Darian that they had been moving so long that it must surely be dawn, and yet by the stars it could not possibly have been much later than midnight when he felt Snowfire stop and crouch under the shadowof a bush. He stopped as well, then felt Snowfire‘shand reach back andtug at his shoulder. Obedient to the signal, he crept forward to peer out at whatever it was that Snowfire was looking at.
Isthistheplace?thescout breathed into his ear. He squinted, and peered out into the darkness, straining his ears as well as his eyes when the dark bulk ahead of him failed to resolve into anything he recognized.
It was his earsthat told him they had reached their goal; a rhythmic splashing, the creaking of wet wood, the steady trickle of water. They had reached the aqueduct, and the water wheel that fed it.
Heput hismouthto Snowfire‘s ear.This istheplace,he whispered.
Snowfire nodded, and motioned to him to be silent. He froze where he was, and tried to ignore the three or four insectsthat decided to negotiate the new piece of territ ory - his legs - that had suddenly appeared in front of them. He was just glad that Snowfire had given him a handful of aromatic herbs to rub all over himself beforethey left, for most of the insects had left him alone tonight.
Finally, after what seemed far too long a time, Snowfire motioned him forward, and slipped out into the open himself.
Now, for the first time in days, Darian found himself on totally familiar ground. The wooden aqueduct hung abovetheir heads, dripping fairly steadily; he followed the sounds of dripping until his outstretched hands encountered the ladder that led to the first clean-out door up above.
Hetook a chancethat oneword wouldn‘t betraythem.
Here!hewhisperedharshly, and was suddenly surrounded by seventeen Hawkbrothers.
He scrambled up the ladder and felt for the catch that releasedthe door. The aqueduct wouldn‘t have worked for a week if it hadn‘t been coveredto keep leaves andtrash out;nevertheless, things did manage to get in, and moss and algae grew in the trough. Hatches had to be made to permit occasional cleaners - usually older, more responsible children - to scrub thetroughs. To avoid accidents with overcurious or adventurous younger children, the catches were reasonably tricky. Darian had already served one stint as a cleaner; that was howhe knew where the catches were and howto open them.
He had a moment of panic when the mechanism jammed and refused to open, but after some desperate prying and jiggling, it broke loose and let him lift the hatch up. With a sigh of relief, he lifted the heavy hatch off to the side. Darian listened for a moment to the cold water running inside, and permitting himself a shiver, climbed in.
He was immediately soaked to mid-calf in very cold water, but he knewthat before they reached thevillage, he‘d besoakedclear through. He droppedto hishands and knees and crawled into the tunnel formed by the trough of the aqueduct and the arch of the roof above it. As he crawled forward into the darkness, he felt someone immediately behind him.
Nowthey were all relying on him to pick the right branching. The right one would bring them out in the village, to the village cistern house right beside the horse trough. The wrong one would send them out into the fields somewhere.
None of the left-hand branchings, he reminded himself. Those all go out to the fields. As he crawled, hetriednottothink about hissurroundings. It was so dark in herethat he couldn‘t seeeven a glimmer of light. It was cold, there was water up to his chest and the roof of the aqueduct pressing intothe back of hishead. And someonehadn‘t donehis job, becausethefloor was slimy with algae. He tried to remind himself that it could have been worsethings, but as he started to shiver, that thought wasn‘t at all comforting.
Its the second right-hand branching. Im sureof it. But the longer he crawled, the less sure he became. Wasit thesecond?He‘d been crawling an awfully longtime, andhe‘donly cometo one place where the aqueduct opened up to the right. Whatif he‘d missed it?What if he‘d gonetoo far? What if they were already crawling off over the fields of barley and turnips?
Then, just as he was beginning to panic and thinking about trying to get everyoneto crawl backward so he could recheck wherethey‘d been, his hand encountered emptiness and water where the wooden wall had been. He stopped, and reached back with hisfoot to signalthat they‘d cometo the turning.
He felt a hand grab his foot and squeeze; he moved into the right branch, and continued t he crawl forward.
Here, at least, the cleaners had done their job. Slime gave way to clean wood under his palms, and he sighed with relief. This must be the correct branch; it was the only one that got scoured religiously, for it not only fed the horsetrough but was the main water supply for the whole village.
But nowhe had new worries. He froze; suddenly they were no longer alone.
He heard the guards before he saw signs of them; heard their voices echoing toward him down the hollow wooden tube. He froze in place, afraid that they had already caught the sounds of hands and knees shuffling through the water abovetheir heads. In another moment, he saw little flickering bits of light reflected in the water, coming through cracks and crevices in the aqueduct cover.Theyre going to hear us. They have some magic, or another Yip Dog, that will sense the Hawkbrothers. They have a real dog that will smell us up here! It was all he could do to keep from shouting in panic as the lights drew nearer, as he felt the walls pressing in on him. He began to shiver even harder, and clenched his teeth tightly to keep them from chattering.
Then, miraculously, the lights and voices passed right on by.
He hardly believed it at first, and only a sharp prod from behind got him going again. T wice more, lights and voices approached and passed, and twice more they all froze in place, waiting, shivering in the cold water.
At long last, his hand encountered the end of the aqueduct. They were in the cistern house, where the aqueduct spilled into a storage cistern which in turn led to the horse trough outside the cistern house. He hung onto the end of the trough, and lowered himself down into the cistern, being careful not to make more of a splash than the water pouring into the cistern already made.
One by one, the rest of the Hawkbrothers followed, first into the cistern, then, shivering and chilled, onto the floor of the cistern house beside him.
I want youto stay here,Snowfire said in his ear.Keep out of sight. You‘ve doneallyou need to.
Henodded, histeeth clenchedto keep them from chattering. Hecouldn‘t havereplied if he‘d wanted to, for he was shivering too hard, and not just with cold.
He shouldn‘t stay here,hissed someone else. There‘sno placeto hide and only one way in or out, and if anyonecomes in hereafter water, they‘re goingto findhim!
Snowfire growled, but reluctantly agreed.Let mehaveHweel check thestable.
Silence then, except for the sound of falling water and occasional voices out side the cistern house. Darian was in a constant state of terror lest some drunkard stumbleto douse his head and find them allthere. At long last, Snowfire spoke again.
Dar‘ian, go to the stable,heordered.Hweel saysthatthereareno humans quartered in there, nothing but horses. You should be safe enough atthistimeof night, and it‘shalfway between the threshing barn andhere. Wecan get youon our way out of thevillage.
Darian just nodded, and waited while the others slipped out, two and three at a time, his gut clenched tight all the while.
How am I going to get out of here? he asked himself, once the last of them were gone.I cant move and hide like they can! Somebody is going to see me for sure!
As if to underscore that fear, he heard precisely what he had feared most to hear - the sound of three or four drunken men approaching the cistern house, talking loudly in some foreign babble.
Were they coming here?Where could he hide? Could he get inside the cistern?Would they see him if he did? As he felt blindly about for the edge of the cistern, his hand encountered a bucket that had been left behind, and suddenly a plan burst in on his mind in a blaze of illumination. Quickly, he grabbed the bucket, filled it at the cistern, and just as the men reached the door, he opened it, trudging openly out into the square with his heavy, sloshing bucket.
Exactly as he had hoped, the men ignored him. He was just another slave, and a child at that, insignificant and unworthy of amoment‘sthought. They shoved past him, and as he trudged away, he heard them splashing and choking in the water, trying to sober themselves up.
Ugh. Itsa good thing thatfrom there, thewater goesto thehorse trough. But ifI wasa horse, I wouldn„t want to drinkitafter theyd had their dirty heads in it.
He continued to trudge toward the stable, carrying the bucket -handle in both hands, hoping that no onewould noticehis long knife at hisside, theonly weapon hehad with him. Snowfirewouldn‘t let him have anything else, and at the time he had thought it a pitiful excuse for a weapon, but he rather doubted that these people allowed their slavesto have anything as dangerous as a knife.
At last he reached the shelter of the stable. He put down the bucket, opened the door, pick ed the bucket back up and slipped inside. Just in case Hweel had been mistaken, he wanted an excuse to be here, and a bucket of water was a perfectly good excuse.
But it was black in there, without even a night-lamp. That meant that there was nothing, and no one waiting, except for horses.
He waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark, listening to them stamping and blowing, breathing in the scent of horse sweat and hay. Once he could see a little, he walked up to the nearest stall. Each of the stalls had an outside half-door, so that the upper half could be left open for ventilation, and in this weather the upper doors were left open all night so the horses got air. The beast on the other side of the stall door seemed far too largefor the stallhe‘d been put in. Darian stared at him in awe; he was huge, bigger than any horsehe‘dever seen before, and atrue war-horse. Every stall in the small stable was full, and it was quite clear why the barbarians had put their beasts here instead of using the placeto quarter more fighters. These horses must easily have been worth a small fortune apiece. They were certainly worth more than a simple foot soldier, or even a squad of them.
Darian put his bucket down and closed the door, then felt for the ladder built into the wall beside him and climbed up into the loft where the hay was stored, moving carefully and feeling for each rung to keep from making any noise. He would have a good vantage point and a comfortable place to wait as well.
Both loft doors were open to the night air, and he,: got down on his stomach and wormed his way over to the onethat pointed in the direction of thethreshing barn. Loose hay covered the floor to the depth of his knees in the middle, and his neck on either side. Mice skittered about in the hay; in the silence he heard two of them fighting, voicing their anger in tiny squeaks.
He settled in with his nose barely poking up above the sill of the door, and strained eyes and ears, trying to penetrate the night. The plan called for the Hawkbrothers to get to the threshing barn, remove any guards that were there, and free the villagers. Wintersky and Raindance would lead them through the village, across the bridge to the road on the other side of the river, and upriver to Kelmskeep; Snowfire and the others would form a rear guard to deal with pursuit.
Nothing in the plan called for actually attacking the barbarians, except in the person of the guards watching the captives. At the time, Darian had been disappointed, but nowhe was relieved. Trapped inside the cistern house, he had suddenly become awarethat he was one young boy surrounded by many, many, strange, hostile men who would not think twice about killing him. Once again, he felt his insides go to water, felt the fear he had experienced when the barbarian army attacked. This was notthe time or place for a confrontation, and now he was glad that Snowfire had already made up his mind about that.
I justwish someonecould have told theenemy so we„d be sure thatthey would leaveusalone
Suddenly, the peaceful night was split by flashes of red, orange, and green light and a roar as deafeningasthe worstthunderstorm he‘dever livedthrough. Darian stifled ayelp and winced away from the door, but immediately reversed himself and peeked back over the top of the sill. Something awful must have happened out there
It was all coming from the direction of thethreshing barn, and he knew with a thrill of dread that the enemy had not gone along with the plan of avoiding confrontation.
More brilliant flashes of light lit the village below, followed by moretfiundering noises, and men boiled out of the nearby houses like so many angry hornets streaming from a disturbed hive.
His heart pounded, and there was a metallictaste in the back of his mouth. He began to sweat, and had to clench his hands on the sill to keep from jumping up and running out there. What do I do? Where do I go? Nothing in the plan told him what to do now
Dontpanic. Thinkof something! He didn‘t daremovefrom wherehewas, and yet there must be something he could do! If I can stop some of these men, delay them if only I had a sling, or a rope to trip them with! What had he learned? Howto raise things - how to heat water and call fire - howto sense magic and
Wait a minute; if I can raise things, can I keep them down? Too lateto guess, he just had to try; spurred by fear and excitement, he reached out with his tiny spark of magictoward one of the barbarians running below him, and momentarily glued histoe to the ground.
The man tripped and fell heavily, taken too much by surprise to fall properly, and Darian heard something break with a dry crack though whether it was a boneor a weapon, hecouldn‘t tell.The man staggered to his feet, dazed, and stumbled off; he was clearly not in a condition to fight now, and might not be for a while.
Encouraged, Darian did it again, and once again, it worked, sending theman crashing headlong into the ground and driving all the breath from his body. This one was stunned, and only moved feebly rather than trying to get up. It took him a long time to get to his feet and lurch away.
Darian tried the trick again, and yet again, with equal or better success. It was working! He was doing something!
If only he knew what was going on out there
There was more light, real firethis time, rising above the roofs of the nearest buildings, the harsh smell of smoke, and the sounds of shouts and screams in the distance wherethe barn stood. He could not tell what was going on, except that the quiet raid had become a full-scale confrontation, and that was not good.
There were no more barbarians where Darian could see them, and he realized belatedly just how exposed his position was. He wormed his way back into the loose hay, pulling it up over himself until there was hay allaroundhimtothe depth of apitchfork‘stines;hecould stillseeout the loft door, but nowhe was peeking out from under the hay like a mouse in a burrow.
He got under cover just in time; someone with a mage-light following him ran toward the stable, and by the long robes the man was wearing, he was not one of the Hawkbrothers, nor one of the barbarian fighters.
The stable door slammed open as Darian lost sight of the man, then slammed shut again. He heard a thud, the creak of wood and a voice uttering what sounded like curses, and heavy steps on the ladder. He was shudderingly grateful for the cover of the hay, asthe mage-light popped over the side of the loft, and the entire loft lit up as brightly as day.
Moreheavy steps, a shadowpassed over Dalian‘shidingplace, andtheman stepped into Darian‘sline-ofsight. He blocked about half of Darian‘sview, but Darian had avery goodviewof him. T all, a bit less muscular than the barbarian fighters, but just as shaggy and bearded, he wore an outlandish reddish-brown robe, with a design pieced into it in dark brown leather. It appeared to be the stylizedhead and forequartersof somebeast, but what, Darian couldn‘t tell. There was apendant around his neck that swung into view as heturned; a sun-disk, with the rays in metal but the disk in black. An eclipse?
All his attention was centered outside, which was a very good thing, as Darian was in plain sight from where he stood if he chose to look in that direction.
Is thisthemage? Itmustbe. Whats thatpendantmean?
Is it magic?Darian tentatively stretchedhisnewmagic-sensetowardtheman.
Andhe was allbut blinded.He shieldedhimself again, ashe‘d been taught, and lay there, dazed. I think this is the mage, all right.
And the man was doing something; he had his hands cupped in front of him, and he was muttering. And from a point just belowthem, Darian heard an ominous, deep sound of growling, and the noise of very heavy feet shuffling away.
Hes-hesgotmonsters! Hesturningmonsters loose!The Hawkbrothers had no warning of this
- bad enough that they were facing half an army, but no one had thought about facing monsters, too!
Hehadto do something. Hehadto! He couldn‘t let Snowfiredown, theway he‘d failed Justyn! Theman was stillmuttering, probably calling up another monster. Darian couldn‘t wait any longer.
With a yell, he leaped out of the hay, pulling his knife at the same time.
The man turned, quick as athought, but only in time to keep from getting knocked out of the loft door. Darian hit him with a shock, his right shoulder nearly wrenched out of its socket as the man deflected it. They both went down in the hay, with Darian on top; hetried to bring up his knif e to finish things, but the man seized his wrist, and rolled to the right. Now Darian was underneath; the man tried to get the knife away from him, bashing his hand down uselessly into the soft hay, his knees digging into Darian‘s stomach. Darian squirmed, trying to break his hold and get away, and the man heldoff Darian‘sknifehand with hisright and got his left around Darian‘sthroat and began to squeeze.
He couldn‘t breathe. Histhroat was agony, his chest fek asif it were goingto burst, his blood pounded in his ears. He writhed and twisted, clawed for the man with his free hand, kicked and thrashed, while the man held him down and throttled him.
Dalian‘smouth opened, but nothing eameout;his eyesfelt as ifthey were goingto pop out of his head,hisearsandface burned, andhecouldn‘t hear anything but aroaring. Hisvision went red, then began to tunnel, untilallhecould see wastheman‘s impassive, bearded face, andthat was startingto black out.
Then, with no warning, the man let him go and flung himself backward.
Darian rolled out of the way, coughing and gasping, and looked up to see Huur attached to the man‘s scalp, flapping her wingsfuriously and digging bloody furrows alonghisforehead with her talons.
She must have come in the hayloft door she saved me!
The man was screaming at the top of his lungs and flailing at the bird with his fists; she in her turn battered him with powerful strokes of her wings, disorienting him. Belatedly, Darian realized he had to get out of there. She hadn‘t managed akillinghold, shecouldn‘t hangonto him forever, and once she let go, he was freeto go after Darian again. Darian scrambled for the ladder and slid down it, with his feet braced on the outside of the uprights and his hands slowing him. He h ad lost his knife somewhere hedidn‘t knowwhere, but right nowallhewanted wasto get away.
But the door was closed, and the bar was down across it. The mage-light dropped down into the stable, and the man stopped screaming; Huur must have let him go.
Please, please, dont letherbehurt!
The horses were all frantically stomping and neighing, upset by the commotion and wanting to taketheir agitation out on something or someone. The mage would be down there any moment
Where can I hide thathe cant find me?
There wasn‘t much room inthetiny stable - and with the horses ready to kick anything that stood in their path
The horses! Yes!
He darted along the center aisle, throwing open the doors to the stalls as he went. The horses hadn‘t been tied, and once they felt space behind them, they kicked and backed out into the aisle, then proceeded to fight with each other, milling and squealing, and providing a barrier of large and angry bodies between Darian and the ladder. Just as he openedthe last stall, hespottedthemage‘s feet on the ladder, and he saw a pitchfork leaning against the back wall. He seized it, and darted into the last stall, dangerously close to the horse that was vacating it. Fortunately, the horse was more interested in getting a piece of one of his rivals than in stomping Darian into the straw.
This stall had no half-door at the back, and neither did the one opposite it. There would be no escape that way.
As he cowered in the back of the stall, pitchfork clutched in his trembling hands, he heard the mage‘svoiceroaringoverthe squealingand buglingof thefightinghorses, andthe thud of hooves on wood. He heard the louder sound of the stable doors slamming open, and then the noise of a riding whip on flesh and the thunder of hooves receding. The mage had opened the stable doors and was driving out the horses. Soon he would come looking for Darian.
I‘ll only get one chance at this - Darian broke out into a cold sweat, shaking all over, but his mind seemed strangely sharp and clear, and as he watched the lighted space of the open stall door, he saw the last of the bulky shadows vanish, leaving only the long shadow of a man.
The magelights behind him.
He watched the shadow, and listened to the footsteps, waiting for the moment when the mage would be‘just aroundthe corner of his stall.
The man was thorough; he checked every stall, while Darian‘sheart pounded andhis gut churned.Heslooking attheoppositeones first. When hefirstgetsup here, Illhave just thatlong while he checks the other one
He sawthe shadow‘s legs, thebody silhouettedon the wall;he bracedhimself, and with the next step, the mage himself appeared framed in the stall door.
Darian charged, screaming.
This time he caught the mage entirely by surprise, driving him into the wall and pinning him there. He looked terrible, with great gouges bleeding down into his face and his robe wet with his own blood - but he was obviously far from finished. Onetine of the pitchfork held an arm pinned between it andthenext tine, onepiercedtheman‘sclothing at his side, although Darian couldn‘ttell if it had caught flesh, and one was buried in the wood of the back of the stall.
But themage wasn‘t dead andhe wasn‘t done with Darian yet.
There was an insanerageintheman‘s eyes;hefoamed atthemouth, andheclawed at Darian with his free hand. Failing to reach Darian, he grappled with the shaft of the pitchfork, and tried to wrench it away, while at the same time, he pushed away from the wall. There was blood seeping into themage‘s clothing, but this wasobviously not afatalwound.
If he could get off the wall, he could free himself.
Darian panted, bracing his feet in the dirt of the stall floor, and hung on with the strength of desperation. Why wouldn‘tthisman die?
Bit by bit, themagepushed Darian back, struggling in eerie silence. Bit by bit, Darian‘sfeet slipped, and he scrambled to reestablish his hold.
If themagegot loose, he‘dkill Darian then he‘dkillSnowfireand alltheothers. Then he‘d go after Nightwind and Starfall and Kelvren. And all because Darian had failed.
“No!”he screamed at thetop of his lungs.“Not- this time! “
With a last burst of energy, he drove the mage back, and felt a surge of elation.
But themadness left theman‘seyes for amoment, andthemage screamed something guttural. The handle of the pitchfork burst into flame, splintered, then crumbled away, leaving Darian standing with a handful of kindling and ash. The mage plucked the metaltine out, and cast it to the ground contemptuously.
Darian stared, frozen.
The mage laughed, and reached out, his fingers curling into a claw.
Darian ducked and rolled to the side. He came up running, or trying to, heading for the open stable door.
Behind him, the mage screamed something else, and the door slammed shut in his face; he hit it, unable to stop in time, and dropped to the floor.
The mage laughed again, and Darian rolled over, his back to the door, and his hand fell on the bar that hadheld it shut. He didn‘t even think;hejust grabbed it, andcame up swinging.
He caught the mage on the side of the head, once again catching him by surprise. The man reeled back, and Darian swung again.
Thistimethemagecaught the wooden bar and wrenched itout of Darian‘shands, throwing it aside.
Darian dove underneaththeman‘s graspinghands, gamblingthat the wound in hisside was too painful for him to move easily. He somersaulted and came up on his feet on the other side; the mage was between him and the door again. He looked frantically about for a weapon, any weapon.
His eye fell on the forged tines of the pitchfork as the mageturned.
Thistimehe didn‘t darefail. It didn‘t matter if hedied;hecouldn‘t failtheothers.
He snatched up the tines, braced the rounded end against his chest, and charged again, but this time with every last bit of strength, and every bit of his weight, holding back nothing.
He drove the larger man back against the closed door; felt the tines hit flesh that yielded, resisted, then gave with a wet pop. The man screamed horribly; he flailed at Darian and a terrible blowto the side of his head knocked him away, stunning him; he fell to the ground as everything went dark.
He couldn‘t move, couldn‘t see anything.
Am I blind? With a convulsive shudder, he managed to move, to get to his knees, but he still couldn‘t seeanything. Everything was dark.
Then, with a creak, one of the stable doors swung open, and vague and flickering red light outside proved that hewasn„tblind after all. It was the mage-light that was gone.
But the mage was still moving. In a moment, he might get up again. He was hurt, but by no means dead yet.
Darian‘sright hand was wet, as was his sleeve, andas hemoved it, his fingerstouchedhis abandoned bucket. He grabbed it and lurched to his feet, staggering over to the mage who stared up at him in the changing light, spittle at the corner of his mouth.
He gave the man no chanceto act; he brought the bucket down on his head as hard as he could. If theman wouldn‘t die, at least he wasn‘t goingto stay awakefor long!
He hit the mage a couple more times for good measure, then left the bucket upt urned over his faceand staggered, exhausted, out intotheopen. Hedidn‘t care who or what sawhim at thispoint. He stood in the middle of the dirt path, swaying on his feet, wondering where he should go next. The shouting had decreased; who was winning?
Then he sensed something gathering at his back; something oddly familiar. Magic - but - where and when had he sensed something like this before?
Magic like - For some reason the sensation called up a memory of Justyn, but Justyn had never had enough magic for him to sense like this
Except the day he destroyed the bridge!
Fear gavehim energy hethought hedidn‘t have;he sprintedfor shelter, any shelter, heading for the nearest building as fast as his feet would carry him. He reached it just as the stable behind him exploded into flame, the shock of the blast knocking him into the side of the cottage. He saw fireworks behind his eyes for a moment, and had allthe wind knocked out of him. He struggled to breathe, lying on his side, trying to make his lungs work again.
He didn‘t stay that way for long; when his eyescleared andhe got afewgood breaths, hepicked himself gingerly out of the remains of a flower garden. He looked around, and things were pretty much the same as they had been. With a single exception, that is. What was left of the stable blazed fiercely, as if it had been soaked in oil.
Darian went looking for Snowfireandtheothers, but didn‘t haveto go far to findthem. No sooner did he round the corner of the house than he sawthe entire cavalcade approaching - the Hawkbrothers, battered and injured, but all still alive, followed by the villagers.
Thevillagersof Errold‘s Grovewerea far different group of peoplethanthey had been ahalf moon ago. They had clearly been kept on short rations by their captors, and just as clearly had been worked to exhaustion. They were filthy, unkempt - precisely the kind of folk that they themselves would have turned away from the village as vagabonds. Clothing, dirty, torn and tattered in the course of hard labor, hadnot been changed, cleanedor mended in allthetimethey‘d been captives. Someof the men showed signs of beatings; all looked as wary and spooked as the horses running freely among the houses.
But Darian had no eyes for them; with a joyful shout, he ran to Snowfire and the others, who answered his shout and surrounded him, babbling questions, while the villagers stared at him with wide eyes. The villagers recognized him, yes, but this was not the same Darian that they had scorned and disregarded before.
Oneat atime! Snowfireordered, and someofthe babble subsided. Dar‘ian, we were surprised by a group coming to claim some of your people. We were attacked. We took shelter in the barn, and were promptly put under siege. What saved us was that the elite fighters that were left here had been drinking, and simply didn‘t fight together at all well. We were holding our own, until we were attacked by a - a bear-creature. It must have been summoned and controlled by their mage. It broke through our defenses and killed three of your people and injured several of us. We are sorry there was just nothing we could have doneto save them, though we tried. Then, the creature suddenly went berserk, as if it was no longer under control, and turned on the barbarians! They had to fight us and it at the sametime; they killed it, but seemed to lose heart and retreated - then there was a tremendous roar and flames shot into the sky, and their retreat turned into a rout! What happened here?
It wasthemage, Darian said,too tiredto feeleven aflicker of pridein hisdeed. I sawhim makingmagicand I knewI hadto do something. I think he‘s dead; Ithink he did what Justyn did at the bridge.
He told the tale as quickly as he could, in as few words as possible. He was a little afraid that Snowfire and the rest might not believe him. After all, who was he to claim to have destroyed a powerful mage? - but they accepted histale at face value. And the results werethere for all to see, so perhaps it was not as difficult to believe as he had feared.
You wereonethinghe wouldnot have been concerned about,Snowfire saidthoughtfully. He would never have believed that a single young boy could be a threat to him, not even when he had the evidence of that threat slashed into his own body. He should have known better. We all know that the smallest creaturecan become dangerous when drivento desperation.
I couldn‘t have doneit if it hadn‘t been for Huur,Darian said hastily. She isallright, isn‘t she?
Onebroken feather, andaruffledtemper, which shehas flown off to cool,Snowfire assured him, and looked around at the wide-eyed group of villagers surrounding them. He switched to stilted Valdemaran.
I believewe hold Errold‘s Grove, andneednot fearthe return of thebarbarianstonight,he said, raising hisvoice. I believeit is safeenough to stay and sleep, and in themorning, beginto rebuild. If you will go to your houses, we alliesof Valdemar will securetheplace against intruders.
Still shocked and bewildered, ready to listen to anyone who offered a voice of authority, they trailed back to their houses by twos and threes. Snowfire divided the Hawkbrothers into three groups of five, leaving out the two worst wounded, to take night -watches. Isthere anyplaceyou can go to rest?heasked Darian, with ahand resting lightly on his shoulder. Would anyone giveyou bed space? Youhave donemorethan enough for onenight!
Darian felt each and every separate bruise aching, thought longinglyof Justyn‘slittlecottage, once despised, and nodded.
Gothen, Snowfire said, givinghim a gentle shove. I will seethat youareawakened in the morning.
Already those not on the first watch were putting out the fire in the blazing stable; soon concealing darkness hid the signs of battle, leaving only the acrid scent of smoke in the air. Darian trudgedtoward Justyn‘s cottage, wondering what he would findthere.
What he found in the light of a single lantern was signs of recent occupation; the furniture was gone, probably broken up for firewood. The contents of the shelves lay piled in a corner, discarded as worthless, including all the bad paintings of famous mages, and there were bedrolls spread across every available bit of floor. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of sweat, burned food, and unwashed bedding; he took the time to throw all the bedrolls out the door and open the windows. T he fireplace hadn‘t been swept in ages, and it seemed that when the barbarians finished eating, they tended to pitch what was left into the fire, for it was littered with bones and burned crusts - hencethe odor of burned food. Darian climbed the ladder to his loft bed, and discovered it was the one corner of the housethat hadn‘t been touched, probably becausehis littlebed was too short for any of the barbarians.
With a weary sigh, he tumbled into bed, leaving the lantern to burn itself out.
It wasthe sound of horses andmen‘svoices that woke him in the gray light of dawn, and before he was even properly awake, he tumbled down out of the loft and emerged from the cottage with a poker in one hand, ready to do battle all over again.
But it wasn‘t the barbarians who hadreturned;thenoise was the arrival of a rescue expedition. Men on horsesmilled aroundthesquare, allof them wearingLord Breon‘scolors and badge; more men afoot were rounding up loose livestock and confining it in hastily-built corrals. Darian put down his poker and scratched his head, watching all the activity with a sense of bleary bemusement.
After another moment, he quietly got himself a bucket of water and used it to clean himself up, wincing as he scrubbed a body that was black and blue from neck to knee. Once clean and marginally presentable, he went back out and joined the milling people, picking up what had happened this morning by listening to fragments of conversation.
Lord Breon had gotten Starfall‘smessage and had gatheredhismen to respondto it - but on the way, he had encountered thethoroughly demoralized barbarian foot soldiers, and had fought an unequal battle with them. Then, having defeated the barbarians, he had been stopped by the rockfall, and had been forced to find a placeto ford the river t o get to the road on the other side. By this time, of course, they werecertain that they would findErrold‘sGroveoccupied by ahostileforce, and had only hoped to catch the remaining barbarians by surprise. Ready for battle, they had clattered over the bridge a little before dawn only to encounter the sentries; after learning that the town was in friendly hands, they had made enough noiseto wake up most of those who were sleeping.
When Darian wandered in, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, Lord Breon himself was in earnest consultation with Snowfire, with townsfolk standing awkwardly about, still looking dazed and bewildered, though most of them had cleaned themselves up and found more presentable clothing. They formed a sad contrast with their once-respectable selves, however, and looked rather as if they had grabbed whatever would fit with little regard for the sex or sizetheir garments were originally intended for.
Snowfire spotted him andhailed him with relief. Here! Little brother! Your command of the tongue isbetterthan mine, come andhelp me withthis!
Not at allreluctant, Darian ignoredhis bruises and aching bones, andtrottedto Snowfire‘s side, feeling flushed,with pride. When Snowfire was at a loss for words, he translated. Lord Breon, a neat and handsome gentleman of middling age and height, clothed in a businesslike suit of riveted armor, brown of hair and eyesand beard, tookthe Hawkbrothers completely in stride. But Darian‘sfellow villagers started every time any one of them moved suddenly, and kept circling warily around the birds. To Darian‘srelief, hecaught sight of Huur, Hweel, and an awkward-looking youngster dozing onthe rooftreenearest Snowfire, wherethey hadevidently been most of thenight, with Daystorm‘s bondbird corbies keeping the natives at a respectful distance.
My Lord Snowfire,Lord Breon said when they were finished, alook of profound respect in his eyes,youhavecertainly kept things well in handhere. I am surethattheQueen herself will want to thank you eventually.
Snowfire shrugged. Weare allies, are wenot?hepointedout. And if youhadnot intercepted the foot troops before they returned, we should probably have been forced to defend ourselves from them as we marched these folk toward your holding and safety. Now they need no longer seek shelter amongyour people.
Beggin‘ your pardon!Lutter spoke up, interruptinghim. But weneedto knowwhat we‘reto do now.
The man was a far cry from his former, prosperous self. He had changed his clothing, but it hung on him loosely, and his middle-aged face bore signs of both fresh and not-so-recent bruises in purple, black, green, and yellow.
What areyouto do?Lord Breon lookedat him askance.Why, pick up your lives, man, what else?
Pick up our lives?hereplied, aghast.What areyoutalking about?Howcan we pick up our lives?There‘snothing left here! The barbarianstook it all whatthey didn‘t eat, they destroyed! We‘veno crops, no food, no herds or flocks, howare weto get through thewinter?
Dorian snorted with contempt, and all eyes turned toward him. Snowfire looked at him curiously, Lord Breon with surprise, and Lutter with astonishment turning to anger at having been interrupted by the village scapegrace.
I‘lltellyou what you‘ve got!Darian said hotly, amazed attheir stupidity. You‘ve got your homes back, you‘vegot a pile of weapons and armor that ought to be worth something.You‘vegot a dozen or more real warhorses that are each worth the price of a good house,andyou‘vegot a whole lot moreregular horses, too! You‘ve got mules andtwo wagons, whatever was in those wagons, and you‘vegot the whole Peligiris Forest to hunt dye-fungus in. You can buyfood again, you don‘t have to grow it! What are you complainingabout?
Andyou‘ve gotthis.Lilly, the barmaid, came up dragging someone‘sonce-fine coverlet, made into a crude bag, across the ground. She let the comers fall, revealing a mixed pile of coins and jewelry.I couldn‘t tell whose was whose,shecontinued. So I just piledthem alltogether, but I knowthat most of this didn‘t comefrom Errold‘s Grove.
It certainly couldn‘t have, sincea great dealof the jewelry was of gold. No wonder thebundle had been too heavy to carry!
Shcar had allthis in his room, she continued. And Ithoughtthat when you get donepicking out the bits that belong to you, Lord Breon could arrange to sellthe rest and buy new stock for everybody who lost beastsandfowl.
What about the stuff you‘rewearing? asked awoman, shrilly, and only then did Darian look up to seethat Lilly was bedecked with several heavy gold bracelets, chains, and odd-looking pendants.
Lilly flushed, but looked angry. This ismine,” shereplied fiercely. I earned every bit of it!
Oh, earned it,didyou?the woman snarled. Atyour ease, in comfort, whiletherest of us sweatedout inthe fields? Earned it, did you?
For once, Lilly stood up for herself, pullingherself up talland staringthe woman down. Yes, earned it! Earned it by waiting onShkar day andnight, doingthings I don‘t even liketo think about, keeping him and his bullies looking at me and thinking about me instead of you, making sure that every time their eyes started wandering toward your pretty little daughter, Stella Harthon, that they got pulled back toward me. How did you think it happened? By magic? I fought for all our sakes with theonly weaponthat I knewwould work against them! And nowI‘m keeping what I earned from them, I‘m taking it, and I‘m goingto go and buy a real inn someplace else where nobody is going to look down her longpetty noseat meagain!
Darian flushed with anger as he saw sour and angry faces among the women still, in spite of the fact that the pile of loot in the coverlet was vastly more valuable than what Lilly wore. How greedy can they be? he wondered.
But Lutter coughed, and said to Lilly, redfaced, You‘reright, girl. You‘ve earned it. And you‘veearnedthe right to takeit andyourself someplaceelse if you want to. But if we‘re goingto get the dyetrade goingagain, we‘re goingto need areal inn 
Lilly interruptedhim, shakingher head,though her demeanor softened.No. If I go elsewhere, I‘ll beLilly, therespectable innkeeper. I can never bethat if I stay here. I‘m leaving. Besides, she chuckled weakly,when I leave, it‘ll giveyour wives abad exampleto showtheir girl-children.
I would liketo ask you some questionsabout yourtime amongthosemen,Lord Breon said with delicatetact.Youknewthenameof oneoftheleaders, for instance.
Shkar, she said, and shrugged. I didn‘t learn much of their tongue.They didn‘t needmefor language lessons, and what they wantedthey could get by pointing.
Nevertheless, youmay knowmorethan youthink you do,Lord Breon persisted. If you‘d care to come back with me, after I‘ve learned what I can from you, I‘llgladly provide an escort to wherever you choose.-
That suits me.Sheturned abruptly arid went to stand amongLord Breon‘smen, who, after a stern look from Lord Breon, did not leer or make suggestive comments but simply made a place for her.
Inthemeantime,the woman is right,theLord continued, surveyingthepile. Betweenthe loot there, and the horses, you will have morethan enough to rebuild what was lost. I‘lltradeten cattleor twenty adult hogs for each warhorse this minute, sight unseen, for instance. Or you can take them to thehorsemarket andtry your luck there.Herakedhis eyesoverthe crowd. You‘llhaveto agree on equal shares, as you all suffered equally, so far as I can see. It will take a great deal of work, but in theend, Errold‘s Grovewill be asprosperous as it was before.
There was some muttering, especially among those who had been the most well-off before the invasion, but finally everyone agreed.
Now, asfor Darian,Lord Breon began.
Snowfire interrupted him thistime. With all respect, wehavealready taken him into our clan, theTayledrassaid, and Darian‘sheart leaped. “We do not consider him a burden.
But evidently some word of what Darian had done had gotten to the villagers, for there was an immediateprotest. But he‘sour mage! We are goingto needamage! exclaimedLutter in dismay. What if someonelikethese barbarianscomes back?
Youneedatrained mage, which Dar‘ian isnot,Snowfire replied sternly. Hemust betrained, and you have no adequateteachers. Nor are you likely to get any, considering how long it took to get youthefirst one.
But hecan heal 
As I believe some of you once pointed out, any of your young people could learn to do, apprenticing for six monthswith aHealer. Snowfire‘smouthtwitchedat the dismay on certain faces;Darian hadto hidehisface lest hisown expression givehim away. I suggest you do that. Perhaps, if at some time, a generous offer is made, you may tempt another mage to come and take residence here. Untilthat time, I fear you shall have to learn to watch your own borders and defend yourselves.
But Darian felt a twinge of guilt as he looked at the real fear in the eyes of some of them. Terrible things had happened here, things that people would never speak of, but which would shadow their dreams for the rest of their lives. They would never feel truly secure again.
What is it, lad?Lord Breon asked, seeingthedoubt in his own eyes. What is itto be? Do you go with theHawkbrothers, or do you remain here?
He lookedfrom Snowfire‘scalm eyes,to Lord Breon‘s worriedones, and back again.I - I have to betrained, first,he said, echoing Snowfire‘s words. And I‘d rather it was with my friendsthan anyone else. But  Heshook hishead, andtriedto put into words theideahe‘d had. But - this place is right on the border, right on the edge of Hawkbrother lands and Valdemar, right?Shouldn‘t there be someone who was as much a Hawkbrother as a Valdemaran, right here all thetime, to make sure that therearenever any misunderstandings?
Lord Breon looked astounded, and Snowfireimpressed and pleased. Hehurried on.And Lutter isright. Errold‘s Groveis goingto need arealmage, sooner or later.ThePeligirshaven‘t gotten less strange, even after the Storms; if there was a mage here, he could look at stuff that was brought out and tell if it was good for anything besides dyeing. Other things, too. So couldn‘t I do both?He turnedpleading eyesto Snowfire.Couldn‘t I go with you, learnto be amage and oneof the Clan, then come back hereandmaybemakea littleVale whereTayledras would always be ableto come?
It would be ahard life, andoften lonely, beingneither of this world nor that, Snowfire said softly in theHawkbrother tongue. But you arecorrect, that there isaneedfor such aperson. Especially here, where there is - scope for a great deal of misunderstanding.
Thenthat‘s what I‘d like,he sighed.Then he laughed alittleand shook hishead. Hellfires, I never couldtakethe easy way with anything!
I am gladthat youmadethat choice, little brother,the scout replied, and switchedto Valdemaran.That is a good plan, and a generous one. You shall come with us and be trained, and when you are ready, you shall return here and be a living example of the Alliance. You shall make for us a haven for our kind, and a place wherethose of Valdemar will find help when it is needed.
Sighs and smilesallaround, but Snowfire wasn‘t finishedyet.And since it is aplan that shows wisdom beyond your years, I shall do as Hweel and Huur asked me, though you are not quite yet of an age for such a joy and a responsibility. He smiled. After all, usually in matters of this sort, our winged ones are far too wiseto be bound by convention.
He whistled and held up his gauntleted arm - but instead of Hweel coming in to land on it, the youngster woke up, hooted loudly, and blundered in to his fist. Before Darian had a moment to think, Wintersky grabbed his left hand and slipped a shoulder-length glove over it, then held it up. The youngster madea clumsy hop from Snowfire‘s fistto Darian‘s, and looked deeply into Darian‘s dazzled eyes as Snowfire laughed with delight at his expression.
H-hello,Darian stammered, beside himself with so much joy and excitement that heshook. What‘s your name?
:Kuari,: the bird said solemnly in his mind.:lam Ktiari. I like you. Wellbebondmates. Yes? They want it, too:Theowl didn‘t movehishead, but Darian knewthat they meant Hweel and Huur, sitting side-by-side up on the rooftree. :I like mice. I want to huntmice. Bring you some, too?:
I have the feeling that Hweel and Huur have decided that this will ensure your place within the clan, littlebrother,Snowfire said in Tayledras, with suppressed laughter in hisvoice.
Darian didn‘t care;thetrust hesensed in Kuan‘svoicewon hisheart as nothing else could have. With gentlecare, he reached up and scratchedtheyoungster‘shead at theeartufts, as hehad seen Snowfire do for Hweel.
:Oh, I like that. I like that better than mice. Do that a lot.:
Kuari closed his eyes in ecstasy, all but melting under the caress, and butted his head into Darian‘shand.
I told you,Daystorm mutteredto Snowfire, in awhisper Darian probably wasn‘t supposedto overhear. The boy‘s anatural withthe birds. He‘llbe fine.
Yes, I will be fine, he thought, his heart so brimming with joy and contentment that there was no room in it anymore for anger, resentment, or grief.Yes, I will. Ivegota family, adventure, a worthy goal. Im home. Im finallymaking myown home.
Darian looked up, and out atthevillagers, who wereconspicuously silent. One lastthing,he said boldly.I won‘t even consider returning untilthere isaportrait ofthegreatmage Justyn displayed in aplaceof honor in Errold‘s Grove.
He paused a moment, then added, just tomake sure, A goodportrait.
Then Darian, Hawkbrother of Valdemar, turnedhis fullattentionto hisnewbondmate‘ssoft feathers, and the shared bliss that came from being with each other.
Maybetheyoung owl‘sflight wasnot allthat gracefulat themoment, but in time, with support and guidance, he would be a master at whatever he tried. In time, so too would Darian, and he would be at home wherever he went.