Crossroads and Other Tales of Valdemar

“The boy seemed to master that empathy thing about the time they closed with us. He fought like a Karsite demon after that. That was mostly why we weren’t overrun. Then right after the King died, when we all somehow knew he’d been killed, I was filled with grief and rage like I’d never known. That’s when I saw the boy go down. He wasn’t struck down, just dropped like he was dead. There wasn’t time to check on him then. We were all too busy trying to rip out the Tedrels’ throats with our teeth. At least that’s what it felt like. It was as if the boy’s demons burned him out and jumped to all of us.”

Erek knelt and laid a hand on Rury’s forehead as if checking for a fever. Deanara snorted gently and drew nearer, and Erek reached back and laid his free hand on her velvety nose. He drew breath sharply after a moment, removed his hands from Rury and Dee, and stood up.

“Find something?” said the Sergeant, frowning. Erek sighed.

“Dee thinks he was something like a conduit for what you and I and everyone else felt. I agree. When the King was killed, when he and his bodyguard and their Companions and the other mounts were being cut down, the Companions knew it. Those directly involved felt their Chosen pierced and dying, felt the pain and panic and death of their fellows. They put out a combined mind-scream that must have hit Rury like a thunderbolt. My guess is he threw it back out over the army, probably translated somehow so that even the least sensitive Valdemaran could understand it.” Erek stood stiffly.

“We can’t find any trace now of his Empathic talents. I think you’re righter than you know when you say his demons burned him out. What he did was an instinctive reaction, but that’s how we all felt the King’s death at the same instant. Whether or not he meant to do it, it helped turn the tide of the battle.”

Krandal stroked Rury’s head like a concerned mother. The boy’s breathing evened out.

“Will he recover?”

“We need to get him to the Healers. You, too, for that matter. He’ll certainly be affected, but no youngster goes through a war unchanged. With help and time, I think he’ll be well enough.” Erek paused and frowned. “We’d best keep this to ourselves, at least for now. The Companions will know, and some of the Heralds, but they won’t gossip about it. I’ll pass it on to those in the Guard with a need to know.” Erek stopped abruptly as Rury opened his eyes and raised himself up on an elbow.

“How do you feel, Rury?” said Erek.

“My . . . head hurts.” Rury replied. “But not like before.”

Sergeant Krandal let out a long breath.

“At least you’re alive, lad.”

“I heard what you said,” said Rury to Erek. “I didn’t mean to send those feelings back out to everyone. It was like catching a red-hot iron. You just want to throw it back.”

“I’m sorry you had to bear that, Rury,” said Erek.

“I’m glad it happened, I guess.” replied Rury. “I don’t think I liked what I was feeling before that. Or maybe I liked it too much. When it hit me, it was like a basin of iced water in my face when I was having a nightmare.” He paused and closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. “And you’re right, I can’t sense other people’s feelings now.” Another thoughtful pause. “Is it true the King is dead?”

“It’s true,” said Erek soberly. He raised an arm and pointed to where a small group of riders picked their way down to where King Sendar lay fallen. At their head rode Princess, no, now Queen Selenay. “King Sendar’s dead, but his kingdom still lives, and the Princess; thanks to you and all of us who fought today.”

“I don’t want to fight anymore,” said Rury from where he lay. “And I don’t want to kill. I just want to go home.”

Erek smiled sadly. “That’s all any of us wanted, Rury. Perhaps when you sent out that cry we all truly realized what the Tedrel would take from us. Maybe that’s why we won out in the end.”

“Well,” grunted Sergeant Krandal, “right now none of us look like we won.” He reached up a hand and grimaced as Erek hauled him to his feet. “I’m getting too old for this.” He tried his injured leg, winced, and balanced on his good one while Erek helped Rury up.

In the distance a body wrapped in the King’s banner was borne and carried up the hill by Heralds and officers, followed by a young, new Queen. None noticed three ragged men and a Companion, upon whom the tide of battle may have turned, limping slowly away.

Years passed, and old veterans remembered their own golden valor, a heroic king and a brave, beautiful girl made queen. The memory of a searing cry piercing the thunder of war faded, until it was less than the distant calling of crows on a battlefield far from home.

STRENGTH AND HONOR

by Ben Ohlander