'How long you been seein' it?'
'Three nights now.'
'And you're sure it's a horse?'
Andy clamped his mouth closed on an imprudent reply. 'Yes, Sarge.'
'Hm. Garet Barns thought he saw somethin' white to the east last night as well.'
'Garet?'
'Yeah. Your fightin' partner's been on the south wall these last three nights now.' He stood. 'Well, there's nothin' for it. I'd better go see for myself. You're sure it's not a mountain cat this time?'
Andy snapped his teeth together. 'No, Sarge.'
* * *
That night the sergeant stood watch beside him as the white horse flashed between the trees.
Finally it crested the hill again, pawing the air in agitation before disappearing once again.
'It`s so fast,' Andy whispered in awe. 'I've never seen anything move so fast.'
'Hm. Funny how the enemy hasn't spotted it,' the older man mused.
'You don't figure it's really a ghost horse, do you, Sarge?' Andy asked, trying to mask the uneasiness in his voice.
'No.'
'So, it wouldn't be there to...' He trailed off.
'To what?'
'Well...my da, he died in the mountains. Maybe it...you know.'
'Maybe it's come to take you off to join him?'
'Maybe.'
'No.' The sergeant gave him what amounted to a reassuring show of teeth. 'Your da was a good man and a brave soldier, but he'd have rather faced that lot down there single-handed than get up on the back of a horse, ghost or otherwise. And he sure wouldn't have sent one for you. No, that there's something else altogether.'
'What?'
'Well, that remains to be seen.' He turned. 'Keep your eyes on the enemy,' he ordered tersely.
'They're a lot more dangerous than...whatever that is out there. You understand?'
'Yes, Sarge.'
His jaw tight, the sergeant headed for the south ramparts.
* * *
By the next morning everyone wanted to hear about 'Andy's latest mountain cat.' Finally he'd taken a swing at Mac Rellden and they'd backed off a little. Leaving him in the tender care of Norma and Ernie, Phen took their bowls to the chow line.
* * *
'So, what's this slop s'posed to be?'
Norma's brother Ham glared at his bowl. The garrison cook shot him a resentful look back.
'It's beans, mister, and you should be glad to get 'em. Stores are running low. Pretty soon you'll be looking at yer boots and wondering how to I can cook 'em up.'
Phen laughed. 'That would break the siege double quick. We all die from the fumes.'
Ham glared at him as everyone about them laughed.
'Hey, heads up, the Commander.'
There was a hushed silence over the chow line as Commander Dravin strode across the parade ground. Those seated made to stand, but he waved them down again.
A tall man in his late twenties, Dravin had been the late Commander Beckwin's lieutenant for four years before an infected tooth had taken the old man to his reward. He was not an imposing officer, but rather one who carried an air of practical confidence that inspired the same confidence in others. Today his eyes were shadowed with fine worry lines, but he smiled easily as Phen and Harn saluted.
'How's the food?'
'The same, sir,' Phen replied. 'Have some?'
'No thank you, Mister Royn, I've already eaten. The last of the turnips I'm afraid, privilege of rank.
But ask me again tomorrow.'
'No sign of relief column yet, sir?' Ham asked bluntly.
'None as yet, Corporal, but Bess Taws got through. King Valdemar will be here any day now.
And then there'll be roast lamb and fresh bread instead of beans and turnips,' he said loudly his voice pitched to take in the gathered soldiers. They grinned back at him, raising their spoons in salute. 'Have you seen Ander Harrow?' he asked in a quieter tone.
Phen nodded. 'Yes, sir. Andy!'
When the youth came forward, the commander indicated the north wall with a turn of his head.
'Walk with me.'
* * *
'It's a Companion.'
'Sir?'
'A Companion, Mister Harrow. One of the Saviors of Valdemar who came in answer to the prayers of the King himself.'
Andy squinted up at his commander. 'I've heard stories of 'em, sir, but don't they always travel with Heralds?'
'They do.'
'I didn't see no Herald, sir.'
'No.'
'Do you think...they killed its Herald?'
'No. If its Herald had been killed, it wouldn't be pacing the garrison. It would have returned to the Companion's Field if it hadn't died as well. No, I believe it's here to choose a Herald, Mister Harrow. It just can't get close enough to do it.' The Commander stared into space for a moment. 'Did you get any kind of feeling when you first saw it?' he asked finally.
'Sir?'
'A feeling, like it was calling to you or trying to draw you away from the garrison?'
Andy glanced up at him in alarm. 'No, sir.'
'No sense of familiarity or purpose?'
'No, sir.'
'Hm.' His gray eyes cleared. 'Never mind. I'm sure we'll find out who it's come for soon enough.
Thank you, Mister Harrow.'
'Sir.'
'Well, if it's come to choose a Herald out of this garrison its got bloody poor timing,' Norma pronounced a few minutes later.
'And bloody poor taste if it wants Andy here,' Phen added with a laugh.
'No one said it wanted me,' Andy snapped back with unusual vehemence. 'It could want anyone.'
'They usually Choose the young,' Ham answered thoughtfully, digging a grubby bit of wood from behind his ear. After a moment's scrutiny, he began to pick his back teeth with it. 'And you're the youngest we've got,' he finished.
'There's Garet. He's even seen it. And Tara's only two years older'n him.'
'None of them have your sparkling personality, though.'
'Shut up, Phen.'
'Hey, really. It'll look into your eyes, then carry you away from all of this to Haven with its soft beds and clean sheets and you'll forget all about us.'
'I said, shut up!'
Ernie shot him a curious glance but Norma just shook her head. 'Don't you wanna be a Herald, boy?'
Andy jerked to his feet. 'Want's got nuthin' to do with it,' he almost shouted. 'It's not me, all right!'
Norma made to answer, but Ernie laid his hand on her arm.
