Read Online Finding the Way and Other Tales of Valdemar by Mercedes Lackey - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mercedes Lackey
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would ignore his Chosen—
—and heard nothing.
“I’m a Healer,” he heard himself say, desperation and fear in his voice. “A Mindhealer. I hear . . . ”
“I don’t,” Gaurane said bluntly. “Not any more. Look, why don’t you have some wine? It helps.”
“Rhoses says you should go back to Haven,” Hedion said.
Gaurane froze in the act of getting to his feet again. “You can Hear him?”
“I can Hear everyone,” Hedion said, setting the half-full cup aside to rub his aching eyes. He cringed inwardly at the misery in his voice, but it had been a very long time since he’d thought of his Gifts as a blessing. “Everyone but you.”
“Ah, well, you can thank Vikandis for that. And as for you, you can go back to Haven—without me—and find someone who actually gives a damn.”
This last was obviously addressed to Rhoses. :You are my Chosen, Herald Gaurane. I will not leave you.: Rhoses looked at Hedion, obviously expecting him to convey the message.
“He says no,” Hedion said.
Gaurane made a grumbling sound and threw a stone at Rhoses. The Companion calmly took a step to the side, letting the stone fly by. “I’m not drunk enough. My aim’s off,” he said, getting to his feet.
Hedion rubbed his temples. Time to get up. Time to go. They needed him in Stone Tower. He flung back the blankets—it was his own bedroll; he spent enough time in the hills and following the army that he couldn’t always be certain of finding an inn or a bed—and started to get to his feet.
“Hold—hold—hold—” Gaurane said, rushing back and thrusting his full cup into Hedion’s hands even as he eased him back down to the blankets. “A man who’s lain like the dead these three days can’t just leap up and go running off.”
“ Three days? ” Hedion said in horror. He should have been there already—he should be riding up to the keep right now, offering them encouragement and hope. He slitted his eyes against sun that had suddenly grown intolerably bright and clenched his fists. His palms were wet and his hands were shaking, and he could feel the chill trembling all through his body that was the forerunner of a spectacularly bad headache.
“Drink this.” Gaurane took several deep swallows from his mug and then held it to Hedion’s lips.
Hedion drank—his mouth felt dry and tasted metallic—and ran a hand through his hair. “I have to go. They need me at Stone Tower.”
“Yes, yes, yes, of course they do. And I’m sure you’d get a good two miles down the road before you fell off your horse again.”
“ I have to go. ” Something like panic tightened his chest. “I’m a Mindhealer—they—they’ll kill innocent men—it looks like demon-possession, but it isn’t—”
“Couldn’t be, this side of the border.” Gaurane was calmly unimpressed. “And you won’t make it, and if you do, you’ll be in no shape to Heal anyone.”
Hedion sank back to his bedroll with a moan. The ground seemed to be rocking beneath him, and he shuddered with chills. Healing took a toll. The Healer had to pay back to his own body what it spent to Heal others. He hadn’t done that for a long time. He’d thought he could go on stealing from himself for longer.
“Please,” he whispered. “Please. They know I’m coming. Please. Send word. Tell them I’ll be there as soon as . . . Please.” Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. Hedion no longer knew whether they came from pain or weakness or the knowledge of his own failure.
Gaurane patted his shoulder. “I’ll write them a letter and tie it all up with a pretty blue ribbon. That jumped-up circus pony has to be good for something—if he shows up with a message they’ll have to take it seriously.”
:Do not fear.: Rhoses said. :I will carry your message to Stone Tower.:
“Thank you,” Hedion mumbled.
It was as if a hidden part of his mind, realizing it had found help and allies, surrendered utterly. Hedion slept. Each time he
—and heard nothing.
“I’m a Healer,” he heard himself say, desperation and fear in his voice. “A Mindhealer. I hear . . . ”
“I don’t,” Gaurane said bluntly. “Not any more. Look, why don’t you have some wine? It helps.”
“Rhoses says you should go back to Haven,” Hedion said.
Gaurane froze in the act of getting to his feet again. “You can Hear him?”
“I can Hear everyone,” Hedion said, setting the half-full cup aside to rub his aching eyes. He cringed inwardly at the misery in his voice, but it had been a very long time since he’d thought of his Gifts as a blessing. “Everyone but you.”
“Ah, well, you can thank Vikandis for that. And as for you, you can go back to Haven—without me—and find someone who actually gives a damn.”
This last was obviously addressed to Rhoses. :You are my Chosen, Herald Gaurane. I will not leave you.: Rhoses looked at Hedion, obviously expecting him to convey the message.
“He says no,” Hedion said.
Gaurane made a grumbling sound and threw a stone at Rhoses. The Companion calmly took a step to the side, letting the stone fly by. “I’m not drunk enough. My aim’s off,” he said, getting to his feet.
Hedion rubbed his temples. Time to get up. Time to go. They needed him in Stone Tower. He flung back the blankets—it was his own bedroll; he spent enough time in the hills and following the army that he couldn’t always be certain of finding an inn or a bed—and started to get to his feet.
“Hold—hold—hold—” Gaurane said, rushing back and thrusting his full cup into Hedion’s hands even as he eased him back down to the blankets. “A man who’s lain like the dead these three days can’t just leap up and go running off.”
“ Three days? ” Hedion said in horror. He should have been there already—he should be riding up to the keep right now, offering them encouragement and hope. He slitted his eyes against sun that had suddenly grown intolerably bright and clenched his fists. His palms were wet and his hands were shaking, and he could feel the chill trembling all through his body that was the forerunner of a spectacularly bad headache.
“Drink this.” Gaurane took several deep swallows from his mug and then held it to Hedion’s lips.
Hedion drank—his mouth felt dry and tasted metallic—and ran a hand through his hair. “I have to go. They need me at Stone Tower.”
“Yes, yes, yes, of course they do. And I’m sure you’d get a good two miles down the road before you fell off your horse again.”
“ I have to go. ” Something like panic tightened his chest. “I’m a Mindhealer—they—they’ll kill innocent men—it looks like demon-possession, but it isn’t—”
“Couldn’t be, this side of the border.” Gaurane was calmly unimpressed. “And you won’t make it, and if you do, you’ll be in no shape to Heal anyone.”
Hedion sank back to his bedroll with a moan. The ground seemed to be rocking beneath him, and he shuddered with chills. Healing took a toll. The Healer had to pay back to his own body what it spent to Heal others. He hadn’t done that for a long time. He’d thought he could go on stealing from himself for longer.
“Please,” he whispered. “Please. They know I’m coming. Please. Send word. Tell them I’ll be there as soon as . . . Please.” Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. Hedion no longer knew whether they came from pain or weakness or the knowledge of his own failure.
Gaurane patted his shoulder. “I’ll write them a letter and tie it all up with a pretty blue ribbon. That jumped-up circus pony has to be good for something—if he shows up with a message they’ll have to take it seriously.”
:Do not fear.: Rhoses said. :I will carry your message to Stone Tower.:
“Thank you,” Hedion mumbled.
It was as if a hidden part of his mind, realizing it had found help and allies, surrendered utterly. Hedion slept. Each time he
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