Exile's Honor

that more of a hero, while at the same time it kept Alberich's Gift a secret among the very few that he knew could be trusted with it. If he'd thought of it himself, it was exactly what he'd have asked her to say. Since she thought of it, he could not have been more proud of her.

'We have lost a great King this day,' she said, when the murmurs of wonder had died away. 'We have lost a King who cared so deeply for the lives of his people that he flung his own down to save them; we have lost a wise and compassionate leader, and a great-hearted man as well. And I have lost, not only a father, but my best and truest friend.'

Her voice caught on a sob, but she stopped for a moment, wiped her eyes, and went on. 'But Valdemar lives, and I live, and together, we will make certain to be worthy of his sacrifice. There is much to do now, and much that will need to be done in the future, but we have proved today that together there is no foe that can stand against us, and no matter the odds, we will prevail!'

A great roar went up as she dismounted and gave Caryo into the willing hands of waiting aides. Keren and Ylsa were a fraction of a moment behind her, flanking her as she walked into the command tent.

Alberich did not so much dismount as fall out of the saddle, and he had to cling to it for a moment before his head cleared. Kantor swiveled his head to peer at him, but before the Companion could say anything, more aides came to take Kantor away with the other three Companions. Alberich set his jaw, swayed for a moment, and followed Selenay into the tent, intending to stay discreetly on the sidelines. That gray haze clouded his vision, but he had fought it away before, and he would fight it away now.

That was his intention, anyway—

What happened was that he got three paces inside the door flap, that grayness turned to blackness, and he passed out cold at Selenay's feet.

«»

He came awake all at once, and blinked up at white, sun-washed canvas.

'It's about time,' Myste said dryly, as he realized he was not alone and this was not his tent. 'Layabout. Come on, get up and get out of that cot; they need it for someone who's really hurt.'

He sat up; it was a big tent, and it was full of more cots like his. He had been put in one right beside the tent wall; his nearest neighbor was—

'Jadus—' he said.

The lean Herald turned to face them without raising his head from the pillow, and grimaced. 'In the flesh, most of it. They had to take the leg.'

Jadus' eyes had that half-focused look of someone powerfully drugged; Alberich was surprised he could speak at all. 'The saying should be, better the leg than the life.'

He shouldn't have said that; he knew it as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Too late. 'Better mine than his,' Jadus replied, voice thick with sorrow. 'But I didn't get to make a choice.'

'Seldom does anyone.' Alberich reached across and put one hand on Jadus' arm. He didn't have the words of comfort he wanted, not even in his own language, but Jadus seemed to understand that he meant to offer whatever support he had without words.

'Thank you,' Jadus told him, in a tone that said he meant the words. 'You know—they just dosed me. I believe I need to sleep... now....'

His eyelids dropped, and in a moment, he was asleep.

'Poor man. I hope we can find something he can teach at the Collegium—' Myste began, but Alberich interrupted her.

'Bah! A sad day indeed it will be, the day a Herald needs two legs to do his duty!' He would not hear of it, a healthy man, certainly no older than the late King, being given make-work, just because he lacked half a limb. 'And of legs speaking—'

He looked down at hers; one of them was in a rather odd boot. A very thick boot. 'I note that you manage, having not quite a whole leg. Unless a phalanx of slave boys you have, to carry you a litter upon.'

She smiled faintly. 'Yes, I broke my ankle. No, I'm not letting it stop me, though let me tell you, it still hurts like seven hells, and it's only because the Healers are very good that I'm not screaming now. Between their off-and-on magics and some truly vile concoctions, even if it hurts, I tend not to care, if that makes sense. And this plaster boot they've granted me lets me get around.' She looked wistful for a moment. 'Though, come to think of it, I wouldn't mind a squad of litter-carrying slave boys... ah, never mind. I'm supposed to tell you that Selenay sent me for you.'

'Me?' He stared at her; he wasn't certain he'd heard her correctly. One of his last thoughts before he passed