Sword of Ice and Other Tales of Valdemar

Feeling he had nothing to lose anyway, and now wanting to sleep more than he ever had in his life, Treyon crawled over to the grass mats and was soon curled up, breathing rhythmically in slumber.

The stranger stood, stretched, and walked to the wall near the small opening. He looked back to ensure that the boy was sleeping soundly. Satisfied, he walked straight through the trees, his body encountering no resistance from the wood. Once outside, he looked up through a break in the trees at a small patch of night sky.

'Over thirty years in the forest now, and I'm still finding boys in trouble.'

Treyon awoke to dappled sunlight streaming in through the small gaps in the trees. He blinked several times, unsure if he was awake or still dreaming. When no coarse shouts or heavy kicks jerked him out of bed, he relaxed a bit, remembering where he was.

Breathing deeply, Treyon felt the bite of the crisp morning air on his face. The rest of his body, however, was comfortably warm, mostly because of the gray woolen cloak covering him. Throwing it aside, Treyon got up and stretched, trying to get moving before the cold could soak into his bones. He walked toward the opening to the small tree-shelter and crawled out, freezing in place as soon as he was outside.

Directly in front of him, the white horse was grazing contentedly. Even though Treyon thought he hadn't made a sound, the horse raised its head and looked at him. Caught in its gaze as he had been the day before, Treyon felt like the animal was reading his mind. He didn't move a muscle, content to hold its eyes with his own steady stare. He felt proud that he wasn't compelled to look away in fear or submission. It was almost as if the horse were evaluating him, and apparently liking what it saw.

The horse looked beyond him for a moment, then neighed, wheeled around, and cantered off through the woods again, only this time with no bandits in pursuit.

A noise behind him made Treyon whirl in a defensive crouch before he could stop himself. The silver-haired man held his hand up in a calm gesture. 'Good morning.'

Straightening, Treyon mentally cursed his reflexes. 'Hello.'

The man gestured toward the horse's retreating back. 'What do you think of her?'

Treyon turned to look at the horse again. 'She's beautiful. Yours?'

'Not exactly. We're very good friends, though.'

'I'd give anything to ride something like that.'

'Well, I don't know. You'd have to ask her. Her name's Yfandes.'

Treyon looked up at the man who had come up beside him, and was now watching him without a trace of humor on his face, as if talking to horses was something he did every day. Not knowing quite how to respond, Treyon kept silent. There was a not-quite-awkward silence for a few seconds until the man spoke again, 'Are you hungry? I'm afraid all I can offer is more of the same as last night, if you don't mind.'

The memory of the savory vegetable stew brought a smile to Treyon's face, 'Fine, if you have enough.'

'Always.' The man started to go inside, then paused, 'I'm sorry. I've fed and sheltered you and I don't even know your name.'

Treyon paused before heading back into the shelter. 'It's Treyon.'

The man nodded. 'And you can call me Van.'

Treyon's head snapped up. 'As in Vanyel Demons-bane?'

The man smiled as if he heard that question a lot.

'The name is similar, but the Herald-Mage Vanyel has been dead for over thirty years. He died around here, as a matter of fact.'

'You know of him?'

Van grinned. 'Bits and pieces I've heard here and there. After all, I haven't lived my whole life here. Come inside and I'll tell you more over a hot meal.'

Treyon hurriedly scooted through the break in the trees. Van started to follow, but stopped for a moment as a familiar voice carried clearly in his mind.

•.Don't embellish too much while telling your 'bits and pieces' now.:

:'Fandes, I'm shocked you would even accuse me doing something like that. If he wanted embellishment, he should talk to Stefen. But I do think he should get his information straight from the 'legend's' mouth, don't you?:

:As long as I get to correct you on parts you may be a bit fuzzy on. Deal?:

Van smiled. :Deal. Except I wish I had his gift with children. He's much better with them than I am.:

:Well, dear, if wishes were Companions, then everybody would have one. You'll just have to make do.:

:Yes, yes, but... I have the feeling that this boy is a harbinger of something evil to come. You sensed him, didn't you?:

:Of course. Why do you think I went after him?:

-.All right, all right, Van grinned again, Pardon me for trying to figure out your mind.:

Van could almost see Yfandes' smile. :Over five decades together and you're still learning, dear. Are you going in? That boy needs to talk:

•.Right away. Keep watch for anything unusual, particularly from the North. This may take a while.:

Understood.:

'. . . and that was how Vanyel earned the name 'Shadow-Stalker.' Van leaned back against the wood of the shelter, watching Treyon finish the last of his meal.

'Boy, it sure must have been exciting.' Treyon said after he had swallowed the last mouthful. 'Riding all over Valdemar, protecting those who needed help, battling evil wherever it appeared.'

A wry grin appeared on Van's face. 'I don't know. I doubt it was all adventure and romance. I mean, you're from around here, right?' Treyon nodded. 'So you know how cold it gets at night, how hard the winters are. I'm sure Vanyel spent many days cold, hungry, and tired while he was protecting those who needed him.'

'Yeah, but he was the most powerful magician of all. He leveled armies, battled hundreds of demons at once, cut through mountains like they were soft butter. He could do anything. Why would he be cold and tired when he didn't have to be?'

.-Funny, that's what his Companion said more than once.: Yfandes Mindspoke, along with a gentle laugh. Shaking his head at both of them, Van continued.

'Treyon, it wasn't, and still isn't, that easy. Often times Vanyel was probably battling other mages, with power as strong, or even stronger, than his. Sure, he could have used magic to keep himself warm and fed, but that would have been just like sending a signal to the other mages, telling them where he was, like a torch on a dark night.'

'Oh. You seem to know a lot about magic.' The statement was meant as just that, but Van inferred something more behind it, as did Yfandes, who commented, :The boy's quick.:

'Well, before I settled down here, I picked up some training in it. But times changed, and I ended up here, where I've been ever since.'

'Oh.' Treyon stared into the fire for a time, then said quietly, 'It's too bad Vanyel isn't still around. But that's just wishful thinking, I guess. I mean, why would a legend concern himself with one person?'

Since Treyon was still looking at the fire, he didn't notice Van stiffen at his tone, or the pained expression on his face as he replied.

'Well,. Treyon, I'm sure if Vanyel was still alive, he would still be helping those who needed him.'

At those words Treyon looked at the older man sharply. Seizing the moment, Van continued, 'Treyon, why were you in the forest?'

After a long silence. 'I was running away.'

'From whom?'

'Bandits. I was sold to them a long time ago, I don't even know who my mother and father are.' Under Van's level gaze, Treyon felt compelled to tell him as much as he could.

'So you didn't want to be a bandit?'

'No, of course not. Running and hiding all the time, never sure where your next meal is coming from, always