Read Online Finding the Way and Other Tales of Valdemar by Mercedes Lackey - Free Book Online Page A

himself to drift as he stumbled along beside Rhoses. In the last several years, he’d learned the art of sleeping anywhere at any time, and he knew he desperately needed rest. He opened his eyes to the smell of wood smoke. He’d expected Rhoses to lead him to Tallese, not to a camp.
    There was a man sitting beside a small fire. The sight of him surprised Hedion; he’d heard no one’s thoughts. The man was burly and unkempt, his skin lined and weathered in the way of one who has spent most of his life outdoors. His hair was streaked with gray, and had bits of twig in it. He looked up at Rhoses’ approach, and his face transformed into fury.
    “You! Go away!” He picked up a clod of earth and threw it, but his target wasn’t Hedion, Hedion realized as he reflexively ducked.
    It was Rhoses.
    “Go away, damn you!” the man shouted. “Why won’t you leave me alone?” Hedion covered his ears and moaned.
    More missiles followed the first: clods of earth, tufts of grass. Most of them struck their target. Rhoses bounded forward and took the front of the man’s ragged tunic in his teeth, shaking him until he dropped his handful of earth. :Stop it, Garaune! Stop it! Oh, I wish you could hear me, foolish headblind Herald! Hedion needs help! Garaune! Garaune!:
    Rhoses might as well have been shoving an icepick into Hedion’s temple by shouting in Mindspeech, and Gaurane’s roaring was like being kicked on the side of the head he wasn’t being stabbed on. Hedion felt a rush of hot bile in his throat, and the jarring impact of the earth against his knees . . .
    And then he felt nothing.
    It was a very long time before Hedion awoke again. He opened his eyes warily. His head always hurt these days; the only difference was between the bright shattering pain that immediately followed the use of his Gift and the bruised sort of tenderness he felt after he’d gotten a little rest. This pain was the bruised sort, and he realized he was staring up at a little shelter made of sticks and string and a blanket, constructed to shield his face from the sun.
    The sun.
    It was morning, and Hedion sat up so quickly he brought the entire fragile structure down. He flailed at it for a few seconds before Gaurane pulled it off.
    “Thought you were going to sleep forever,” Gaurane grunted.
    He moved away before Hedion could form a coherent reply, only to return a moment later to push a cup into Hedion’s hands.
    “Drink this. You look like a man whose head hurts.”
    “My head always hurts,” Hedion muttered. He sipped. Willowbark tea, its bitterness disguised by a stunning amount of honey and a generous splash of brandy.
    “You should see a Healer,” Gaurane said blandly. “I’m Gaurane. You?”
    “Hedion,” Hedion answered. “And I am a Healer.”
    Gaurane gave a bark of laughter. “If that’s true, the world’s in worse shape than I ever suspected.” He took Hedion’s cup and got to his feet. A moment later he was back. This time the cup smelled of meat and herbs, and Gaurane held a cup of his own. “Thanks for the wine, by the way,” he said unapologetically. “I was almost out of brandy.”
    “You went through my pack,” Hedion said slowly. He looked around. Tallese was there, unsaddled, his halter-rope tied to a log, and so was Rhoses. The Companion gazed at him worriedly. Hedion frowned, remembering how he’d come to the campsite, and what had happened here. Why hadn’t Rhoses told Gaurane who he was? Was Gaurane a new Chosen? It was possible . . .
    “Had to find out if you were a Karsite spy. Vicious bastards, Karsites,” Gaurane said without heat. He tipped back his mug, drinking deeply.
    :Tell him he has to come with me. Tell him we should go back to Haven: Rhoses said pleadingly.
    Hedion winced reflexively at the Mindspeech, but it didn’t seem to hurt as much as it had before. He glanced at Gaurane. He acted as if he hadn’t heard anything. Automatically Hedion reached out to listen, to see why Gaurane