Changing the World: All-New Tales of Valdemar

He shoved his anger aside. Not that what he remembered was untrue, but he’d always had better control over himself than this. He glanced at Tomar, at the odd expression on the Herald’s face. Maybe that came from the blow to his head, or something else entirely.

“And why’d you decide to attack that particular caravan?” Jergen asked, staring at Ferrin. “Five men guarded it. You be the one who always said we only go after forces much smaller’n us. Six ain’t all that much of an advantage.”

“Greedy,” Chardo muttered. “Always wantin’ more and more and more.”

Ferrin’s eyes nearly popped from his head. “Shut your mouth, you useless piece of—”

“Call me a useless piece—”

“Hey, Ferrin, ’member the time you left me behind in our last raid?” Vomehl’s chin jutted out. “Oh, you’ll be all right, you said. Got that damned bow of yours.”

“And what ’bout you, Chardo?” Jergen growled. “Always runnin’ your mouth. Nearly got us in trouble last village we stopped in.”

“Who elected you captain?” Chardo’s hand drifted to the hilt of his dagger. “You be more insultin’ than Ferrin betimes.”

“Insultin’?” Ferrin stood. “I’ll show you insultin’, Chardo.” He glared at the men around the fire. “Only reason I put up with you is we be stronger together than alone. I be better’n the whole lot of you. Smarter, faster, and —”

Chardo jumped to his feet. “Think you be so tough, Ferrin? I could take you down and not breathe hard after. You treat me like I be stupid or somethin’!”

“Stupid? You be more’n that! Twice stupid, most like!”

Doron buried his head in his hands. Everyone seemed to be losing control. He glanced up in time to see Ferrin and Chardo stalking each other, knees slightly bent, circling the fire. The dagger in Chardo’s hand glittered in the firelight.

Jergen turned to Vomehl. “And keep your hands off that bow. Don’t want to end up with an arrow in my gut.”

“S’pose I ain’t thought of that many a time?” Vomehl snapped. “You act like you be the only voice of reason in the whole wide world. Like none of us got sense the God gave a goat to figure things out.”

Doron felt sweat start on his forehead. A fight between Ferrin and Chardo could leave one of them wounded or dead. The anger he sensed between Jergen and Vomehl could also spark into violence in no time at all. He needed to do something, but he was afraid of what he could do. His witch-powers gave him a solution, but he was half afraid of using them.

Chardo struck out, nearly knifing Ferrin in the side. That settled it. Doron stood, backed off into the darkness, clamped his jaw tight, and concentrated.

The grove suddenly filled with the sound of neighing horses—many horses. Their own mounts snorted and shifted nervously. Vomehl and Jergen glanced around, their faces gone tight in fear. Distant shapes appeared off in the gloom, eyes gleaming in the darkness.

“Hell-horses!” Jergen shouted. “They be comin’ for us!”

Ferrin’s hand snaked out and grabbed Chardo’s knife hand. “Stop, you idiot! That damned horse gone and got himself friends!”

Jergen and Vomehl scrambled to their feet.

“I ain’t waitin’ around to find out!” Jergen yelled. “Stay here if’n you want!”

“Too many to shoot! Run for it!”

Chardo looked off into the night. “Oh, crap!” He sheathed his dagger and crashed off into the brush and trees, following Jergen and Vomehl.

For a long moment, Ferrin stood rooted by the fire. The sound of the approaching horses grew even louder. He aimed a kick at the bound Herald, missed, and sprinted off after Chardo.

Hidden in the brush, Doron sought to keep the illusion as real as he could possibly make it. When he could no longer hear his outlaw companions, he crept forward, circling around so he approached Tomar from behind. He drew his dagger and began sawing at the ropes binding Tomar fast.

“Your horse be waiting for you somewhere close,” he said. “You ain’t got much time. Now get out of here, Tomar. They’ll be back soon as I lower the illusion.”

The Herald’s eyes grew round as an owl’s.

“Go, dammit! I can’t keep this up forever!”

Tomar struggled to a kneeling position, sensation flooding back into his arms as the ropes fell away. The face of the man before him settled at last into recognizable features. He blinked in the firelight, not trusting what he was seeing.

“Doron?” he said, his voice cracking. “Cousin? Is that really you?”

“It be me.”

:Keesha!:

:I’m here, Chosen.:

Tomar glanced over his shoulder as his Companion edged into the clearing. Dried blood stained the utter whiteness of her neck, but aside from that she appeared untouched. He looked at Doron, who slowly backed away, unease in every move he made.

“Keesha won’t hurt you,” Tomar said. “In fact, she’s fallen in love with you.”

“What?”

“You saved me, and she thinks you’re wonderful.”

“I won’t be if’n you don’t get on that horse and leave! Ferrin and the rest of ’em won’t stay off in the woods ’til morning. And I can’t maintain my illusion forever.”

Sure enough, the sound of uncanny creatures shrilling their anger still filled the grove, only now seeming to follow the fleeing outlaws.

“But how did you escape the Fires?” Tomar asked, scrambling to his feet. He rubbed his stiff arms and ankles to get the circulation flowing again.

“Came late to my witch- powers. And managed to avoid the priests.”

Tomar threw both arms around Keesha’s neck in a brief hug, then gently traced the bloody track the arrow had left behind. “Come back to Valdemar with me, Doron. You’ll be safe there.”

Doron shook his head.

“Can’t.”

:Don’t force what cannot be,: Keesha said, her Mind-speech tinged with regret. :It’s his decision, Chosen. Maybe in the future . . . .:

Tomar retrieved his sword and dagger from where Ferrin had dropped them. He met and held Doron’s eyes.

“Aunt Chalva? Uncle Lomis? Where are they?”

His parents? Doron winced slightly. “Dead. Winter flux. Nearly died myself. Uncle Branno and Aunt Savia took me in. Tried to keep the farm goin’. Couldn’t, so they sold it. Left me with next to nothin’. Joined Ferrin and the rest when I was starvin’.” He spread his hands. “Don’t you see, Tomar? They be all I got. They be my family now. Can’t leave ’em.” He licked his lips. “Not yet, least wise.”

“But—”

“Tomar . . . please! Get out of here. I be losing my hold on the illusion. Can’t keep it going much longer!”

:He’s right,: Keesha interposed. :I’m amazed he can divide his attention like this, but his strength is weakening. You don’t want to throw away the help he’s given you, do you?:

A flood of sorrow washed over Tomar. He reached out and clasped hands with the cousin he had set off to visit in a world he had erected in his own mind, a world that could never be save in memory.

“All right. But remember this, Doron. There’s a place in Valdemar waiting for you. And for what you did . . . I can’t find enough words to thank you.” He set foot in stirrup and mounted Keesha. “If you ever tire of life as a bandit, come to Valdemar. When you get there, ask for me. They’ll find me, and I’ll do anything to get you settled in a new home.”

“Go, Tomar!”