Changing the World: All-New Tales of Valdemar

Now who sounds like a moron? “I wasn’t aware that ‘no, thank you’ required explanation. I appreciate your generous offer, but I decline it. While you are an inarguably beautiful animal with clear, amazing abilities, I have no wish to ride to Valdemar, to attend a Collegium, nor to become a Herald.”

Carthea planted all four feet in the mud left by the spring-melted snow. :You can’t refuse. I’ve Chosen you.:

Lubonne waved and started to turn. “I’ll forget it, if you will. Just go and choose someone else. Who will be the wiser?”

:It doesn’t work that way.:

Lubonne sighed and reluctantly looked back. Real or dream, he hated to disappoint what seemed like a wonderful and decent animal. “Listen, Carthea. My answer is ‘no,’ and I won’t change my mind. I have the perfect life here. I’m the third son of wealthy parents. My older brothers inherit the land and the responsibilities that go with it. I get money and no duties, free to spend it as I please. I’m engaged to an exquisite woman. My life is happy, and I have no intention of changing it.” With that, he turned on his heel and left, intending to walk out of Carthea’s life forever.

Lubonne never looked behind him as he strode toward the village, the wooden sword tucked rakishly into his belt. His route took him from forest to beaten path to cobbles; and it was not until he reached the latter that he heard the steady clop of hoofbeats behind him. He stepped to the side and stopped, making room for the rider to pass him. But, the instant he went still, the noise ceased as well. I’ve got horses on the mind. Lubonne continued on his way. With his first new step, the hollow, unmistakable sound of hoof on stone resumed.

Lubonne whirled to find himself nose to nose with Carthea. She studied him curiously through one eye, neck gracefully arched, head tipped. “Perhaps I didn’t make myself entirely clear—”

Carthea raised her well-muscled neck and snorted. :You did.:

Lubonne glanced around to make certain no one could hear him talking to a horse. Seeing no one all the way to the edge of the village, he continued, “Then why are you still with me?”

:Because you are mine, Chosen One. And I am yours. We are a team, bonded until—:

“No!” Lubonne waved his hands in broad gestures. “We are not a team. We are . . . barely nodding acquaintances.”

:Ride me.:

The temptation was great. Lubonne had known how to ride a horse as long as he could remember, most often bareback and on boyish whim. He suspected he had molded the shape of his buttocks from Old Rinny’s back. He knew a great animal when he saw one, and Carthea’s conformation impressed him mightily. He could imagine the powerful legs bunching beneath him, the silky mane stroking his face, the thrill of its wild gallop, the closest thing to human flight. “I certainly will not ride you. You’ve already told me you’d carry me off to Valdemar.”

:Yes!:

“Well, I’m not going to Valdemar. Or anywhere. I’m happy here. It’s home.”

:Home is where your heart is. And, I, Dear One, am your heart.:

Lubonne rolled his eyes, sighing. “No, ma’am. I’m pretty sure my heart is that familiar beating thing lodged firmly in my chest.” He started back down the road toward his parents’ mansion. “Please. The sooner you leave me be, the sooner you find your rightful partner.” Without another glance, deliberately deaf to the drum of hoofbeats, he headed toward home.

And Carthea followed.

A nudge awakened Lubonne with an abruptness that sent him leaping from his bed. Blankets tangled around his legs. His foot mired on a misplaced bedsheet, and he tumbled to the wooden floor. The familiar sights and smells of his bedroom surrounded him, but those seemed to disappear as he focused on the one oddity: a furry white head shoved through his only window. Carthea stared at him, head cocked, twin puffs of breath smoking in the cold air.

“What the hell are you doing?” Lubonne scrambled to his feet and attempted to wrap the blankets around himself. In the process, he wrenched a corner from directly under his foot and wound up sprawled on the floor a second time.

:I’m sorry,: Carthea sent. :Did I wake you?:

In a whirl of surprise, anger, and uncertainty; feeling awkward as a toddler, Lubonne resorted to sarcasm. “No, no. I’m still asleep. I’m thoroughly accustomed to massive animal heads popping through the window to shove me onto the floor.” He rose more carefully and twisted the blankets around his half- naked body. He could barely comprehend the discomfort he felt beneath her stare. Surely a mare, even one intelligent enough to speak, had no intention of judging or worrying about a human’s exposed privates.