Gail Martin - The summoner

"What in the hell is going on?" a rough voice said from behind him. Tris wheeled to find Vahanian standing on the other side of the well, his hands planted on his hips, his face a mixture of anger, disbelief and uncertainty.

Tris swallowed hard and turned toward his bucket. "I came for some water," he said, hoping his voice sounded steady. The implications of what just transpired made his head swim.

"That's not what I meant," Vahanian grated. "You're standing out here in the dark, talking to ghosts. Your friend was telling the truth, wasn't he? You are a mage," he pressed, the last word clearly an indictment.

Tris squared his shoulders and turned toward the mercenary. "I don't know what I am," he snapped. "I'm a prince without a kingdom, a son without a family, a fugitive and a beggar. Why do you care?"

"Like I said, I'm either in on everything, or I walk away," Vahanian replied, his voice icy. "I'm not going to ask again, but I may pound it out of you. What the hell did you do?"

Tris licked his lips nervously. "I'm… not really sure," he admitted. "I've always been able to see ghosts, talk to them, not just on Haunts, but all the time. Even ghosts that nobody else sees." He

shrugged. "Just lucky, I guess. But I never saw them outside of the palace. Now, since the… murders," he forced himself to go on, "I see the ghosts outside Shekerishet just as easily as I saw the palace ghosts."

"There hasn't been a Summoner since the sorceress in Margolan died," Vahanian replied, chewing on his lip. "That's been five, maybe six years ago. No one to lay them to rest, nobody but the seers and frauds to pass a message over to the other side, no way for anyone to get their blessing and know for sure it was real." He looked thoughtfully at Tris. "If you're as good as Harrtuck thinks, you really are the deadliest thing in Margolan. I imagine Arontala and that new king would love to get their hands on you."

Before Tris could reply, Vahanian snatched up the bucket. "Tomorrow, we'll talk about not making a target of yourself," the mercenary grated, striding off toward the camp so that Tris had to hurry to follow. "I doubt your uncle will pay me if you're dead."

At dinner around their campfire, Vahanian gave his report to the others. "We're in luck. Linton's caravan is coming this way, bound north-right where we want to go."

Soterius bolted down his food and went to check on the horses, making an obvious effort to stay out of Vahanian's way. Tris sat quietly on the other side of the fire, in no hurry to answer more of the mercenary's questions, or think about the implications of what had happened at the well.

Vahanian didn't seem to notice. He looked back down the slope toward the quiet town. It was just after dusk, and the villagers were gathering in their herds, securing their flocks for the night. The glow of cooking fires warmed each of the small houses as whisps of smoke rose from the chimneys and on the still night air, they could smell roasting meat.

"We should have no problem being hired on as extra guards," Vahanian reported. "There's been 'trouble' in the north, although no one would say exactly what. Bandits, for sure, that's part of it." He shook his head, pausing to bite into the rabbit Tris offered him. "But there's something more. Wouldn't be surprised if there was border trouble. There are some pretty wild clans out beyond the northern ridge who have always been hard to keep at bay."

He paused and stared at the fire. Harrtuck looked at him skeptically. "There's more you're not saying," the other soldier prodded. Vahanian shrugged.

"Just a funny feeling about what they did say," Vahanian admitted finally. "People are afraid, and some of the people in the tavern weren't the type who scare easily. I had the feeling there's some dark magic involved, or at least," he added, "people suspect it."

"That's just great," Soterius replied as he returned from the horses. "Bandits you can fight. We're not going to be any protection against magic."

Tris shifted uncomfortably as Vahanian gave him a pointed glance.

"If the tavern information was right," Vahanian continued, "the caravan's heading our way. We can wait for them to catch up to us," he said, "but our rations are running a little thin. Or," he added, "we can ride toward them. We'll backtrack, but once we find them we won't have to forage for provisions." He paused. "We'll just have to watch for guardsmen."

"Since I always vote with my stomach," Carroway said, "I say go looking for them."

Tris grinned at his friend's quick analysis. "It sounds reasonable."

"I'm glad you said that," Vahanian replied as Harrtuck chuckled. "Because riding suits me better than sitting around. We'll leave in the morning."

Late that night, when the fire burned down to embers, Tris wrapped his cloak closer around himself, ready for his turn on watch. It was unseasonably cold, and frost covered the leaves, chilling him to the bone. Despite the late hour and his aching muscles, Tris was wide awake as he awaited Vahanian's return from walking the camp perimeter. Finally, he came into view and Tris mustered his nerve as he rose to meet the mercenary.

"Goddess take anyone fool enough to be out on a night like this," Vahanian cursed, stomping wet leaves from his boots. His breath fogged in the chill air. "I don't envy you the next turn." "You look like you were in a fight." Vahanian shrugged. "There was someone out there. Tackled him once but he got loose, damn his soul." Vahanian shook his head. "Might have just been a bandit, but then again, could be a spy." He looked pointedly at Tris. "Keep your eyes open. He might be back."

"There's something I need to ask you, Jonmarc," Tris said as Vahanian turned back toward the camp.

"How about tomorrow, huh? I doubt I can get warm tonight, but I'd at least like to lie down."

"Teach me to fight."

Vahanian looked up at him, then paused a moment before answering. "Yeah, sure. You're going to have to learn if we're gonna earn our keep with a caravan."

"That's not what I mean. I need your help. Harrtuck says you're the best."

"Does he, now?" Vahanian chuckled. "Don't believe everything you hear." He paused. "Although, in this case, Harrtuck is right."

"Then you'll do it?"

Vahanian laughed harshly. "This isn't some high-priced salle and I'm not your fencing instructor. If I weren't this good, I'd have been dead a long time ago. I learned what I know one fight at a time. I can't teach that, and you can't learn it any other way."

"I want to kill the man who killed my family," Tris said, surprised how flat the words sounded when he actually brought himself to say them.

"And that will bring them back, right? Forget it. Nothing brings them back. Forget it and move on." "I can't bring them back, but I can stop Jared, make him pay for what he's done."

"All by yourself," Vahanian mocked. "Kill the beast, save the princess, be a real hero."

"That's not what I said."

"I've known a lot of heroes," Vahanian returned. "Buried them myself."

"I'd like a fighting chance. If you're so good, you could give me that."

"I don't give anything," Vahanian replied, turning away. "I'm paid. Well."

"Then I'll pay you. Double."

"Double?"

"Yeah, double. As soon as we get to Dhasson."

"Dhasson's a long way away," Vahanian replied skeptically. "You could be dead by then."

"So could you. Guess we'll both have to take our chances."

Vahanian smiled coldly. "Then you have a teacher. Be ready at dawn. Miss one day and the deal's off."

Tris nodded, feeling his stomach tighten.

"Good enough."

"Now let me get some sleep, will you?" Vahanian grumbled, heading toward the bed of pine branches he had fashioned earlier. "I've had enough for one day."

Tris watched him go, then drew a deep breath and headed out on his own patrol. He had the uneasy sensation that things were starting to come together, like being swept up in a swift current. Oh Kait, he thought. I'm sorry I let you down. He reached out in his mind in the darkness and felt a tingle of her familiar spirit, far away. Kait's spirit blurred, as if something powerful were holding it back. He felt a glimmer of her presence, and sensed her terror. The image was gone as quickly as it came, like a heavy door sealing out the light. Tris opened his eyes, shaking at the contact.