Мерседес Лэки - Passages

Rinton sat upright, and Linx gathered his legs beneath him and stood, tossing his head and stamping his silvery hooves, tail twitching as accumulated water droplets flew around them. Mirideh giggled at the sight of a usually dignified Companion behaving like a soaked dog, then leaned over to help Rinton to his own feet. The Herald placed one hand on Linx’s withers for balance and support while Mirideh hoisted the saddle back into place and fastened the girth.

“Skinny you may be, but I still couldn’t lift you . . .” she began, but Linx forestalled her words by bending his forelegs to go down to his knees, so she only needed to help balance the Herald as he swung one leg over the Companion’s back. Once he was in the saddle, Linx carefully rose, and Rinton worked his feet into the stirrups. Mirideh stared in amazement.

“It’s something all Heralds and Companions practice,” Rinton said when he noticed her reaction. “Far easier with a Companion than a horse. If I can get into the saddle, I can practically sleep here, and Linx can keep me upright.” He settled his oiled cloak over his shoulders while Miri eyed the sorrel mare. There was no chance of getting her horse to cooperate in a trick like that.

“She’s sweet and biddable enough, but it’s a good thing I’m in better shape than you right now.” Grasping reins and pommel in one hand, she hooked one foot into the stirrup and hauled herself into the saddle. Securing her own cloak, she gave one last glance around to make sure they had left few traces of their presence under the sheltering tree.

Linx tossed his white head, and the four of them moved back out into the rain, Kiyan flapping along overhead.

As they traveled, Miri hid a smile. Even though Linx had seemed restored, several times she found herself reining in her mare to a slower pace to keep from crowding up behind the Companion. Rinton occasionally swayed in the saddle, but even to her concerned eye seemed in no danger of falling off of Linx’s back.

Twilight had settled in by the time they arrived at the Waystation, and Miri leaped from her horse to help Rinton dismount. He stood, leaning most of his weight against his Companion, while she fumigated the tiny shelter with the aromatics all traveling Heralds carried with them. There was only one bedbox, so she put Rinton’s bedroll there and guided him to sit while she tended to Linx and the mare. Only when their mounts were settled did she set about lighting a fire, sweeping out the building and gathering what they would need for the night.

Rinton sat staring at the fire, head resting on one hand, slowly sipping another cup of restorative herbs while she moved around him. Unbidden, memories arose of her first night in a Waystation, the second night she had spent on Valdemaran soil. Then, she had sat in anxious confusion, watching while a Herald, whom she had always been told to fear, had tended to all of her needs. This time, it was she who had taken charge of him.

“If some of the folks back in Karse could see me now, taking care of one of the Demon-Riders . . .” She let the words trail off. Some of the villagers she had encountered when visiting her grandmother had been less than enthusiastic about the alliance with Valdemar, and viewed her return with some suspicion. “They wouldn’t know what to make of me.”

:You are not as you were, and nor is he.:

Mirideh snorted lightly, and Rinton looked up at her in question. “Your Companion is eavesdropping from outside and has chosen to share his opinions with me.”

As if I needed proof that I am not who I was. Not only have I spent years among the Demon-Riders, learning to use proscribed Gifts, one of the White Demons has even talked in my head. Thank Vkandis that Grandmother Fidesa never taught her people to hate, like so many of His priests did. I don’t think I could have overcome that.

Rinton glanced at the still-open door, out into the deepening darkness where Linx and the mare munched on the grain Miri had given them. His face took on the “listening” expression common among Heralds.

“Linx says that there has been some magical . . . something . . . that has happened in Haven, which involved a great deal of magical power. It doesn’t make any sense to me. But all the Companions and Heralds were affected, especially those closer to Haven, and those who have Mage Gifts.” He glanced downward, seeming embarrassed. “He says I’m one of the ones with Mage Gifts. I don’t even know what that really means, other than Linx says I have a lot to learn.”

“That makes a bit of sense to me,” Miri said. “Your mind felt as though it had been singed, as if a lightning bolt had gone through it. It was far more severe than the usual effects of overuse of Gifts. If there was some sort of strong . . . overflow? . . . in your mind, if you were sensitive to it because of that unknown Gift, everything would be left raw.”

Rinton nodded. “Raw is a good word for it.” He yawned widely, then glanced around. “Waystations are not known for comfort . . .”

“I’ve been in them before, remember? This time I’ll be the one to sleep on the floor. It’s no worse than taking foal watch or staying up all night with a patient in the House of Healing. Better, in fact, because I can really sleep, and Linx can wake me if he senses anything wrong with you.” She took the empty cup from him. “Now, sleep. The morning is time enough to think on this more.”

The Herald was asleep before she had finished rinsing his cup. Mirideh moved to the doorway, standing and looking out into the darkness. A lighter shape loomed at her side, the firelight from the Waystation drawn to highlight Linx’s form.

:Well done, Healer Mirideh.:

Miri gaped at the title.

“How could a Companion determine that? I’ve barely finished my classes at Healers’ Collegium, and there are still more tests, I’m sure.” Some days, it seemed that all her time in the Houses of Healing was an examination of some sort or another.

:This Companion believes that the name is right, and earned. I do not think you will be in Trainee Greens after our return.:

She blinked, considering, her thoughts drifting over the day, her decisions and actions related to Rinton’s care. In a way, the whole day had been a test of a different type, one that Linx clearly believed she had passed. She slowly nodded, and a subtle warmth and pride spread in her heart.

“Thank you,” she murmured to the luminous figure beside her, then closed the Waystation door.

Banking the fire, she curled up on her bedroll, facing the low bedbox where Rinton gently snored. Tomorrow, they would return home, to Haven, and to whatever faced them there.

To Lady Cera of Sandbriar, in the Kingdom of Valdemar,

Greetings,

Please accept the thanks of the Healers’ Collegium and The Crown for the supply of wild kandace. It arrived safely and is deeply appreciated. Once again, Master Jebren has demonstrated his gifts to us.

The Crown has given leave that the funds we would normally remit to you be instead applied as a credit to Sandbriar’s future taxes. Please also be assured that the Collegium is more than willing to enter into this arrangement for the next two years. The Wars sadly depleted our supplies, and our harvest will be some time in recovering.

On a personal note, I was wondering how Master Xenos is getting along. I understand that the Healing of the injured Herald is proceeding well, but, to be honest, milady, it’s just that I’ve had a request . . . more like a demand . . . to recall him to the Collegium.

In any event, please accept our grateful thanks for all of your assistance.