Read Online Finding the Way and Other Tales of Valdemar by Mercedes Lackey - Free Book Online
Authors: Mercedes Lackey
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her mind shouted out the message she was terrified of forgetting. It struck Hedion with the force of a blow, and he tightened his grip on the back of the chair. To show her how weak he was would only frighten her more. For the same reason, he let her gabble out her message, interspersed with directions and advice he didn’t need.
“I’m on my way.” It would have been nice if Yvendan could use the signal mirrors to let Stone Tower know he was coming, but no one was quite sure whether or not the Karsites had broken their signal codes. It wasn’t worth the risk.
“I’ll—” Esclinet began.
“You’ll stay here and rest,” Hedion said. His weariness gave his voice a rasp that sounded like anger. “Follow when you’ve recovered. I know the way.”
Every step his horse took was agony. The aftermath of a Healing should be treated in the same way as woundshock: blankets and hot sweet tea and rest. The thought even of a cup of wine made Hedion’s stomach roil with nausea, and there was no time to rest. Stone Tower was three days away—and only if he didn’t have to detour to avoid Karsite raiding parties. At least the Nightstalkers—those elite Sunsguard regiments that traveled with red-robed Sunpriests and their demons—never crossed the border. Small mercies.
He reached the bottom of the ridge and the eastward road that would lead him to Stone Tower. Hedion knew he presented a pitiful sight: hunched over, eyes squinted nearly shut, alternately gripping at his temples and clutching the pommel of the saddle. At least if he was set upon by bandits, he didn’t have anything of value worth stealing. Everything he valued had been taken from him long ago.
The pain in his head pulsed implacably in time with the beating of his heart. He should stop soon and force himself to drink a little wine before going on. He had to go on. They needed him at Stone Tower.
:Wake up. You need to wake up now. You can’t stay here.:
“—can—” Hedion mumbled. The sound of his own voice propelled him further toward wakefulness. He rolled onto his back, and the sudden realization that he was supposed to be on his horse—that the last thing he remembered was being on his horse—jolted him the rest of the way awake. He sat up quickly, and the sudden jolt of pain and nausea caused him to curl forward, clutching at his head and groaning.
:You can’t stay here.: someone repeated.
Hedion forced his eyes open. The Companion stared back. It wore no harness—not the blue with silver bells that marked a Herald riding Circuit, nor the slightly more circumspect and bell-less harness the Companions wore when their Herald meant to cross over the Border into Karse. For one utterly horrified moment Hedion thought the Companion was here because he’d been Chosen, but it shook its head, much as a horse would, and radiated negation. He’d always been able to Hear the Companions, just as he could Hear human minds.
:My name is Rhoses. I am here for you, Hedion, but not in that way.: Rhoses’ mental “voice” held both amusement and anxiety. :You fell from your horse. I found you. You can’t stay here. Come. Get up. You can hold on to me.:
He didn’t think Rhoses would ask him to get up if it wasn’t important, and Hedion was pretty sure Rhoses wouldn’t go away until he did what he asked. Besides, he really couldn’t stay here. He was lying on the side of a hill, and it was getting on toward sunset.
He forced himself to his feet—gasping with weakness and pain—and clutched at Rhoses’ mane as Rhoses wanted him to. He clenched his fingers tightly in the silky strands and let Rhoses drag him back up the hillside.
“My horse . . . ?” he croaked, when they reached the top. Tallese was a good animal, and if he’d fallen from his back, as he obviously had, should have stayed nearby.
:Come.: Rhoses repeated, and Hedion tightened his grip on the white mane and stumbled along beside the Companion.
Hedion allowed
“I’m on my way.” It would have been nice if Yvendan could use the signal mirrors to let Stone Tower know he was coming, but no one was quite sure whether or not the Karsites had broken their signal codes. It wasn’t worth the risk.
“I’ll—” Esclinet began.
“You’ll stay here and rest,” Hedion said. His weariness gave his voice a rasp that sounded like anger. “Follow when you’ve recovered. I know the way.”
Every step his horse took was agony. The aftermath of a Healing should be treated in the same way as woundshock: blankets and hot sweet tea and rest. The thought even of a cup of wine made Hedion’s stomach roil with nausea, and there was no time to rest. Stone Tower was three days away—and only if he didn’t have to detour to avoid Karsite raiding parties. At least the Nightstalkers—those elite Sunsguard regiments that traveled with red-robed Sunpriests and their demons—never crossed the border. Small mercies.
He reached the bottom of the ridge and the eastward road that would lead him to Stone Tower. Hedion knew he presented a pitiful sight: hunched over, eyes squinted nearly shut, alternately gripping at his temples and clutching the pommel of the saddle. At least if he was set upon by bandits, he didn’t have anything of value worth stealing. Everything he valued had been taken from him long ago.
The pain in his head pulsed implacably in time with the beating of his heart. He should stop soon and force himself to drink a little wine before going on. He had to go on. They needed him at Stone Tower.
:Wake up. You need to wake up now. You can’t stay here.:
“—can—” Hedion mumbled. The sound of his own voice propelled him further toward wakefulness. He rolled onto his back, and the sudden realization that he was supposed to be on his horse—that the last thing he remembered was being on his horse—jolted him the rest of the way awake. He sat up quickly, and the sudden jolt of pain and nausea caused him to curl forward, clutching at his head and groaning.
:You can’t stay here.: someone repeated.
Hedion forced his eyes open. The Companion stared back. It wore no harness—not the blue with silver bells that marked a Herald riding Circuit, nor the slightly more circumspect and bell-less harness the Companions wore when their Herald meant to cross over the Border into Karse. For one utterly horrified moment Hedion thought the Companion was here because he’d been Chosen, but it shook its head, much as a horse would, and radiated negation. He’d always been able to Hear the Companions, just as he could Hear human minds.
:My name is Rhoses. I am here for you, Hedion, but not in that way.: Rhoses’ mental “voice” held both amusement and anxiety. :You fell from your horse. I found you. You can’t stay here. Come. Get up. You can hold on to me.:
He didn’t think Rhoses would ask him to get up if it wasn’t important, and Hedion was pretty sure Rhoses wouldn’t go away until he did what he asked. Besides, he really couldn’t stay here. He was lying on the side of a hill, and it was getting on toward sunset.
He forced himself to his feet—gasping with weakness and pain—and clutched at Rhoses’ mane as Rhoses wanted him to. He clenched his fingers tightly in the silky strands and let Rhoses drag him back up the hillside.
“My horse . . . ?” he croaked, when they reached the top. Tallese was a good animal, and if he’d fallen from his back, as he obviously had, should have stayed nearby.
:Come.: Rhoses repeated, and Hedion tightened his grip on the white mane and stumbled along beside the Companion.
Hedion allowed
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