Crossroads and Other Tales of Valdemar

Shafts of light erupted from the ground periodically, equidistant around the circle. Treyvan walked around each one, then drew glowing lines in midair toward the center of the circle, and subdivided them. More shafts of light shone, higher this time, where those lines crossed, and then wavered. Treyvan growled and leaped on one that was brighter than the rest, and the others became evenly brighter.

He warned loudly that no one was to enter the Changecircle for any reason, and took to the air, flew a circuit across the Changecircle, and then arced back to the convalescents’ tent, where Kelvren was awake after his trondi’irn’s drug-enforced sleep. Treyvan murmured to Pena, who dashed off after something. Hallock intercepted Treyvan.

“Kel was just giving me his opinions about this political and military situation, in case the worst should happen,” the captain said. “And I have to say, I’m impressed. You should hear this.” He looked down at the notes he’d written. “ ‘In this conflict the Guard is already beaten, because they do not want to fight their fellow Valdemarans. And this insurgent militia, brought to bear arms against the Guard and Heralds, are also beaten for the same reason. In their hearts—regardless of blades, arrows, and horse—they cancel each other out. Therefore, the battle is between the mercenaries and the callous bastards who incited this, who owe no allegience to this country and have no affection for it—and those mercenaries hired by the Crown, who do feel affection for this country, but hold no pressing regard to spare that militia or their hired counterparts. So to make this conflict collapse, the motives must be attacked, without swords and arrows piercing flesh, and thus make the mercenaries cancel each other out. Create a collapse within this insurgents’ power structure, and the mercenaries fold up. Then may Valdemarans be brothers again, and meet in taverns to give thanks and apologize to each other, rather than soak their beloved soil in the blood of their brothers.”

“Hurrrh. The Shin’a’in sssay, ‘therrre are only two powerrrsss in a warrr—the sssworrrd and the ssspirrrit, and the sspirrrit will alwaysss win out.’ If Kelvrrren wasss a warrrlorrrd, we would all sssurrrely be in trrrouble,” Treyvan said in all seriousness. “Hisss ability to find powerrr in the mossst minorrr of thingsss isss unnerrrving.”

Hallock looked back toward Kelvren. “I think he really needed to tell me all of that. It seemed very important to him, even though it exhausted him to say it.”

“He wantsss morrre than anything to feel effective,” Treyvan observed. “But, I sssuppossse, ssso do we all.” Pena arrived by his side and offered an unlatched case which Treyvan delicately reached into. He pulled out a fist-sized sphere of glass, perfect in every dimension. With a calculating look he asked Hallock, “Do you know what a Heartstone isss?”

It was dusk.

Whitebird set the last of the empty bottles and cups aside, then arose from her knees beside Kelvren. “Those should strengthen you,” she said encouragingly, “and keep you going through what’s to come. Everyone is ready.”

Kelvren stood up on all fours for the first time in days. He shook all over from the muscle strain, but he did not buckle. Whitebird folded her arms, squeezing herself in worry. Ammari shuffled close from the rear of the nowemptied tent. Kelvren pulled his shoulders back and raised his head to look her in the face. “Thisss isss a tale that tellsss itssself,” he rumbled wearily, forcing a raised-crest smile. “Pena hasss sssomething forrr yourrr ssson. If my ssstorrry endsss this night—hisss ssshall go on. I have a favorrr to assk of you, Ammarrri. Yourrr—liquid light—sssparrre a few jarrrsss for Genni Ssstaverrn. Frrrom me.” He lifted his head up to his shoulders’ height, and Ammari cupped his lower jaw in her hands and rested his beak against her bosom. She tucked her chin down and kissed him on the curve of his beak. “You’ll be all right, Kel—you will be.”

His breath was hot against her body, and he trembled as he turned aside and took his first step toward the circle. “If I am not, I ssshall fly with yourrr husssband firrrssst of all.”

Whitebird, Rivenstone, and Pena stepped in instantly to help him from the tent, but he warned them off. With wingtips dragging, Kelvren trudged to his fate on the hill.

Spectators had gathered, but guards kept them a hundred feet from the Changecircle. They parted to let him through as he approached, and several murmured encouragements to him.

All of the “gimps” were there among them.

Treyvan awaited him several horselengths from the edge of the faintly-glowing Changecircle. “It isss not too late to refussse thisss,” he said to Kelvren in Kaled’a’in. “You may ssstill live if we use the other method.”

“Live. But not fly, or rrrun even? Neverrr climb a back again? I’d rrrather die,” he chuckled weakly. “No—I must try this.”