Changing the World: All-New Tales of Valdemar

Doladan opened his mouth to reply, and Navar feared that his next words would be a request for a “Companion” of his own. Already Navar’s heart was troubled enough, for it seemed to him that he had never seen Lord Beltran, as Baron’s Seneschal or King’s Chancellor, look so much at his ease, as if a great burden had been lifted from him. He spoke up quickly, saying they had kept Lord Beltran from his duties long enough and would be on their way.

“You all but dragged me out of there by the hair,” Doladan complained, once they were in the open air once more.

Navar looked about himself. Several of the white horses were in sight, but none close enough to hear. “I wonder how it is you lived to grow up,” he said with a sigh. “The king surrounds himself with an outlandish court—Lord Beltran tells a tale of otherworldly guardians in horse shape who come in answer the king’s prayers and that can speak into the minds of the folk? It is but a small step from speaking to overshadowing—and we have but Lord Beltran’s word that these beasts are good and wise.”

“But—King Valdemar is a great mage!” Doladan sputtered, nearly skipping in his agitation and his need to keep up with Navar’s long strides.

“There is no mage so great that he may not meet a greater one,” Navar said grimly.

The barracks had been half built even before they’d left, as dormitory buildings were the quickest and most efficient way of getting Haven’s population out of tents and under roofs, but they weren’t the cheeriest lodgings to be had. Navar was spared that this night, for on his way back there—Doladan at his heels—he spied proof that Haven had become a city in truth: a tavern.

There was not yet a royal mint established, or any coin circulated, but the tavernkeeper was willing to take Navar’s signed chit in payment. The “Journey’s End” had all they might have found elsewhere, and one thing more.

Gossip.

This was not the only tavern in Haven—Navar was surprised to discover there were four—but it was the oldest by three moonturns, and the largest, and the nearest to the new palace. Men and women came here to drink beer and cider, to get a hot meal, and to exchange the news of the day.

That news was as grim as the news that Lord Beltran had relayed. Word of these “Companions” were on everyone’s lips, from those who wished to be Chosen themselves to those who simply wished to give thanks that King Valdemar’s prayers had been answered. None had anything less than full praise to deliver for these Companions’ supposed wisdom and goodness, which merely raised Navar’s suspicions further. One hallmark of life, learned through painful lessons: There was naught so good that someone would not despise it. For none to speak ill of these Companions spoke less of the quality of Valdemar’s prayers and more to Navar’s worst fears.

Doladan sought to discuss what they had learned, but Navar bade him hold his tongue, for he had already decided. This Haven had turned to nightmare, and Navar would not remain to be overshadowed in turn. They would leave at first light, he and Doladan, and make their way up the river Terilee until they could find a suitable place to winter, where they would be sheltered from forest’s dangers. Come spring, they would continue pressing west, or perhaps south, until they found another settlement—one that bent knee to neither Iron Throne nor white spirit-horses.

He outlined his plans to Doladan in a quiet voice, masked by the sound of revelry in the tavern as drunken men grew more drunken, and Doladan looked as though he held back protest. Navar kept his eyes moving around them, looking for any signs that someone was paying more attention to them than he should. “I’ll slip out after we’ve retired and find a storehouse to provision us,” Navar said, while trying to decide if the barmaid was showing too much interest in their bowed-head conference.

:I do so wish you wouldn’t.:

“It’s the only way we can be sure to have sufficient supplies for a winter,” Navar said, trying to bite back his anger that Doladan would question him. Hadn’t he proven his ability to plan and execute a long journey already? “We don’t know how harsh the winters of this land will be.”

Doladan ducked his head. “Can’t we stay here and see what will happen? What if these—these Companions aren’t a sign of something bad? What if they’re exactly what people say they are?”

“You never suffered beneath the boot of the Iron Throne.” Navar dropped his voice even further. “I have seen what power drives men to do, and I tell you: Freedom is sweet. I will not fall beneath a madman’s subjugation a second time.”