Crossroads and Other Tales of Valdemar

“You know I have confidence in you and Najan. And it’s not that the children will be too close to the border of Valdemar. Neither Karse nor Valdemar seems too concerned with what goes on in that territory.” He sighed. “What I’ve not told you, is this: the priest who’s coming to Two Trees is Chardan.”

For a moment his sister’s face went totally blank. Suddenly, sadness replaced the emptiness of her features, a sadness that spoke more than anything she could have said.

“Yes,” he said softly. “Chardan. My friend from my earliest days of study in Sunhame. The one I swore an oath to, promising there would never be anything between us. I’ll have to lie to him, Selenna, about those children. Lie! And in doing that, I’ll have to break my oath to him.”

To say nothing of what might happen if Chardan detected the lie.

“But what happened to Durban?”

Durban, the Red-robe priest who had become a Black-robe, who had come year after year to Two Trees and who, despite his talents as a demon summoner, had seemingly possessed a soft spot in his heart for the inhabitants of this small village. Durban had never pressed too hard and, Pytor suspected, had consciously overlooked those children who might be growing into their talents.

“Durban died a few months past,” Pytor said. “I didn’t want to tell you because I knew—”

“I’d worry ’bout the upcoming Feast,” she finished his dying sentence. She stirred the greens on her plate, her face gone still and thoughtful. “But it wouldn’t have changed things, Pytor. I always worry ’bout the Feast.”

He glanced up at the ceiling. “What am I to do? How can I lie to Chardan?”

:There’s nothing wrong in doing such a thing if it’s done for Vkandis and for the love of his children,: that voice whispered in his head. :Don’t take more upon yourself than you ought.:

If he had not known better, he would have sworn his sister had heard the same voice. “Which be worse?” she asked. “Lying to an old friend and betraying a childhood oath, or doing what you know be best for the children of this village?”

“Oh, you’re clever,” he said, “throwing my own words back at me. Yes, Selenna, there’s a higher power to answer to here than a childhood oath. But if he doesn’t believe me . . . what if he tries to go into my mind—”

“Now why would he do that? He be your friend,” she stated. “You been tested, time and again. Not once, ever, did you show a hint of any so-called witch powers.”

“But times are different now, and that difference can turn friend against friend. Remember what happened with Zarvash and Tomasio?”

“Never did think Zarvash worthy of much more than pig slop,” Selenna responded bluntly. “He be an evil, grasping man. He’d betray his own mother if it meant a few more gold pieces in his pouch.”

“That’s true, but he did report Tomasio to the priesthood, and Tomasio went to the Fires.”

:There are worse things than going to the Fires,: the voice in Pytor’s head murmured. :The Sunlord sees all and rewards accordingly.:

Pytor rubbed his forehead, attempting to dispel that inner voice. “Well,” he said, sitting up straighter in his chair. “I guess there’s nothing to be done for it now. We’ve cast our fates to the Sunlord’s mercy. You and the children will be leaving at first light tomorrow. Vkandis willing, you’ll be over the border before Chardan is close to Two Trees.”

“And I’ll be back, Pytor,” she said, squeezing his hand in hers. “Don’t worry ’bout that. I can take care of myself. And Najan . . . Oh, don’t look so horrified. He’s always been a free spirit, a trader and tinker by nature. He comes, he goes. No one knows where he’s been, or that he lives’cross the border. But I can find him.”

Pytor knew that for truth. Though a woman wasn’t supposed to travel unless accompanied by a male relative, those rules weren’t strictly enforced out here in the back of beyond. A woman could make a trip by herself, if she thought the need was great.

After Selenna had returned to the house she and her husband had shared, Pytor was left alone with his own misgivings. Now that his plan had been set into motion, he could foresee a hundred ways it might go wrong. Not for one moment did he believe the new thinking emanating from the Son of the Sun. Once an eagerly anticipated ceremony, the Feast of the Children was turning into a day every family dreaded. In years past, it had stood as a marker of the passage from childhood to adulthood; the child making that passage tossed some valued possession of theirs into a fire to signify entry into a new phase of life. Now they, themselves, could be thrown to the Fires.

Unless, of course, they could be suborned by the priests into becoming one of the newly powerful Black- robes, those summoners of demons and possessors of a magic Pytor suspected did not flow from the hands of the Sunlord. He wore his own robes of red proudly; the last thing he wanted was to be seen as a figure that inspired fear, not love.

He stepped outside to retrieve the cats’ plate. Tom was gone, and Puss and Patches were stalking something in the grass over by the bushes. Only Sunshine remained, cleaning his whiskers. When Pytor picked up the plate, the cat looked up, a satisfied expression on his face. Pytor reached down and stroked the cat behind his ears, the simple act settling his emotions.

“Where did you come from?” he asked conversationally. “Who’s missing you? You were far too well cared for to be homeless.”

Sunshine’s response was a throaty purr.

“I hope I’m doing the right thing,” Pytor continued, finding nothing odd in holding a conversation with a cat. “I can’t see Jovani, Chelsah, Bhobar, Lispah or the twins go to the Fires. And I know they would.” His heart gave a sad little jump in his chest. Chardan wouldn’t hesitate a moment to make the decision to rid the world of those children. As much as he cared for his old friend, Chardan was no Durban.

The admission pained him. Oh, Sunlord, how it pained him. But he had seen the change come over Chardan years ago, as Chardan had become intent on ascending through the ranks of the priesthood and assuring himself a position of power in the future. Pytor simply could not understand what had happened to his childhood friend. The world was far too much with Chardan, and the dark side of that world seemed to be winning.

And that fact made Pytor’s decision to shield the children even more important.

:The Sunlord requires much of us,: his inner voice said, warmth present in its tone, :but not more than we can give. There’s no limit to his love for us. He only wishes us to love him in return and share that love with all his children.:

And, as a priest, he should know that better than most. Pytor smiled. His sister was right. He must place his trust in Vkandis, certain he had made the correct decision.

If things went wrong . . . well, there were more terrible things than death.

The following day passed in a blur. Selenna and the children had left for the north, but not as early as planned. A sudden summer storm had boiled up during the night and drenched the countryside, delaying a morning departure. Normally, the villagers would have hailed this storm as beneficial, but with travel held to narrow country roads, most merely lanes, rain seemed a bad omen. Choosing not to see it so, at the morning service Pytor had blessed the rain as a gift to the surrounding fields. He further assured the children’s parents that Vkandis had given everyone a bit more time to say farewells.

It had been extraordinarily difficult to stand at the edge of the village and watch Selenna and the six children set off to the north, though his sister, ever the practical and enterprising one, led the small caravan.

The families of the departing children had seemed lost now that their children had gone. He had said comforting words, made comforting gestures, but had no comforting thoughts for himself. And now, of course, he must rehearse his explanations—if such were ever needed—as to the absence of the six children. Two Trees was hardly a large village, and the yearly census would show there were fewer children to be found if anyone came looking.

And that was exactly what Chardan would be doing.

Chardan.

Pytor bowed his head. What could he say to Chardan? The ready responses he and Selenna had concocted had seemed more than sufficient at the time, but would they hold up under Chardan’s questioning? The fact all six children were cousins could explain why they had set off to visit a dying grandmother before the God took her. Such an event could preclude mandatory presence at the Feast of Children. The children’s parents had agreed to journey