Under the Vale and Other Tales of Valdemar (4 page)

There was a sense of shocked silence. I looked over at the other bunk, where the girl was nursing a cup of some sort of noxious medicinal tea that she’d told me how to brew. She was looking back at me. With a certain amount of approval.

“He’s right, you know,” she said aloud. “Just because you’re Companions, that doesn’t give you the right to breach Mindspeaking ethics.”

Well, that was a bit of a surprise.

“Do they often do that sort of thing?” I asked tentatively. “Rummage around at will in a stranger’s head, that is.”

She took another difficult gulp of tea before answering. “Not usually. In fact, Companions generally don’t Mindspeak to anyone but their Chosen Herald. Destin’s something of a law unto himself, though, and I can’t always predict what he’s going to decide to do.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fabulous. And this is what you have laying down the law of the land?”

“Not . . . exactly,” she said, finishing the tea. “Let me see if I can explain. Or at least, better than they did.”

Her explanation did make better sense, and I could see now why the gods of this kingdom would have figured out a way to properly answer the particular prayer they’d been petitioned with. And it did prevent some pretty awful abuses of power. I mean, I did know history, and for every good monarch, you generally get a nasty one and an entire herd of mediocre ones. This at least made for a stable form of government.

What? You don’t think I should have an interest in politics? I promise you, you would be amazed what constitutes pillow talk for some women.

Still, I don’t think I would be even remotely comfortable with something rummaging around in my head on a regular basis. A man likes to keep
some
secrets.

After that, Millissa and I started to get along a bit better. I was feeling positively brotherly toward her as we both drifted off to sleep. Or at least, I was able to feel a lot more sympathy for her. She was putting up with injuries that would have had most people incoherent with pain and was not really complaining about it. Some of that was the tea, but most was that she was either really quite brave or really quite well controlled. In either case, I admired her.

Now, I am not the sort that tends early to bed and early to rise, so the cold, wet nose shoving insistently at me at the crack of dawn came as a literal rude awakening. The kind that makes you start up out of sleep with an incoherent noise.

: Up,:
said the cross voice in my head.
:We need sleep.:

He
needed sleep?
I
needed sleep! Evidently that didn’t matter, and I knew better than to try to just turn over and attempt to ignore him. He was quite capable of hauling me out of the bed just as he had hauled me over to the cabin.

Now . . . I’ve been a little less than honest. Just because I
haven’t
done the usually lowly chores you’d need to do in and around a little cottage—well, other than the farming ones—it doesn’t mean that I can’t or that I didn’t know how. It was because as soon as I was able, I ran away to avoid those very chores, heading straight for the city, which I saw as my natural home. So my skills might have been a little rusty, but other than the cooking part, I pretty much knew what to do.

By the time that Millissa woke up, and, poor thing, needed help getting to the privy, I’d gotten things in rough order for the morning. And when I carried her back and installed her in bed again, she looked around with a raised eyebrow.

“That’s—not bad,” she said. “I—”

“Didn’t think I knew one end of a broom from the other?” I finished for her. “Oh, I know. I just don’t
like
it. I’d much rather be waited on.”

“Wouldn’t we all,” she murmured, but this time with a little, pained smile that let me know she intended for me to hear her.

“I perform a very valuable service for ladies who for one reason or another need a companion,” I told her pointedly. Her eyebrows arched, but I was not backing down. “Their husbands generally have at least one, and often several, attractive women that they go to. Why shouldn’t they have the same? I’m entertaining, I can tell a good story, I
listen,
and I mean really
listen,
rather than pretend to listen and make appropriate noises. I am absolutely faithful for as long as the lady cares to have me about. Sometimes I can even offer advice, although mostly they don’t want that, they just want sympathy. When we part ways, she’s the better for it, and so am I. She knows that she is still worthy of appreciation, which raises her spirits and gives her confidence, and I am heavier in the pockets.” I folded my arms over my chest and looked down at her. “And it doesn’t hurt that I’m a handsome devil, which makes her the envy of her friends.”

Millissa sniffed a little. “But you don’t love these women!”

“On the contrary, I do,” I said proudly. “I love women in general, and I make a point of appreciating all there is to admire in my clients.” Believe me, sometimes that was a lot of work, but it was always worth it in the end.

Millissa’s look of skepticism turned to astonishment. “You sound like you’re proud of what you do!”

I shrugged. “I am. Why shouldn’t I be? My father taught us to take pride in our work.” Though he would have seven different kinds of a fit if he knew what I was doing now.

Well, that was his fault, not mine. Maybe if he hadn’t gotten taken in by that priest and his stupid “quiverfull” notion of having your wife squeeze out baby after baby like a prize pig until you had so many children you couldn’t remember their names, and what would have been plenty for a reasonably size family got stretched so thin that no one ever had enough, and everyone was starved a little—

—especially for attention—

—then maybe I’d still be there. Or maybe not. Who’s to say? Maybe I would have run away sooner.

“But that has very little to do with the here and now,” I told her. “I’m not a Healer, but I do have some skills that will probably help you.”

Now both eyebrows shot up. “I don’t—”

“Like massage.”

She blinked. “Oh.”

“If you’ve no objection, I’ll take you out on the grass, give you a massage, and then set you so your head is hanging just over the edge of the pond and I can wash your hair.” I knew that would get her. She’d been sweating all during the ordeal of setting her leg, and by now her scalp must be a torment.

“Really?” Ha. Had her.

“It’s one of the things I know how to do,” I pointed out. Then ,without giving her any time to think about it, I picked her up and carried her out into the meadow. Then I very carefully massaged all the nonerotic muscles, concentrating on making it soothing rather than actively trying to get the kinks and knots out. It takes longer that way, but the last thing she needed was more pain. When she was a nice girl-puddle, I moved her to a rock ledge on the side of the pond, stripped off, and used some of the soap I’d found on her hair. Then I moved her again, combed it all out and spread it on the grass, and left her soaking up sun while her hair dried. I vaguely recalled a Healer telling me once the people got better faster when they had sun. I don’t know about that, but when I moved her back to her bed, a lot of the tension and pain was gone from her face.

The next few days were pretty much the same, except for the hair washing. We talked a lot; she did most of it while I did the listening, though I did tell a few stories out of my own past. The funny thing was that all those chores that I had loathed as a child seemed far less onerous now. Well, it was probably just because there wasn’t anyone around telling me how I could have done it better and pointing out all the ways I’d fallen short of perfection. Fine, if someone else wants perfection, they can have it, but there’s nothing wrong with just getting the job done competently and correctly and leaving it at that. Destin might have been a sarcastic bastard, but at least he didn’t nitpick me to death.

The first three days were fine; the fourth, the Companions started getting restless. Destin even forgot to insult me. I remembered that they had said that “something was coming,” and I wondered if that “something” was almost here.

The fourth day they kept going off for runs, always into the north.

The fifth day brought it all to a head.

When I woke up, I could practically cut the tension. Millissa didn’t say much to me over breakfast; instead she had that “listening” look she got when both Companions were talking to her.

Finally, as I brought her lunch, she broke the silence. “I know you’re not a fighter—”

“Not even close,” I interrupted.

“Right, well . . .” she bit her lip. “There’s someone we’ve been waiting for. She’s close, close enough to go get. But there are likely to be complications. It might get physical . . . and we’d planned for
me
to be the one to deal with that except—”

“So I take it you want me to go with Ardred and the walking gluepot since you can’t. Right?” I’d already figured something like this was coming. “I have an easy solution for things getting physical. We run.”

“It might not be that easy,” she said dubiously.

It was my turn to snort. “Trust me. Take it from someone who’s done a lot of running. You can
always
run.”

:He has a point.:
That, shock of shocks, was Destin.

She sighed. “All right, then. Destin, you and Ardred take care of him and the Chosen.”

Ardred raised his head suddenly.
:She’s thinking ahout running.:

“All right then. Get those saddles on and get out of here. I’ll be fine, you need to get!” To underscore her words, Millissa had me bring her everything in the Waystation that could be thrown. I admired her resourcefulness. And I shuddered a little when she hefted the frying pan.

I got the saddles on both Companions and started to mount Ardred, but Destin shoved his way in between us.
: He needs to be free for his Chosen. Mount up.:

Once I was in the saddle, we were off, and I realized at once that we were heading for the road. They were pushing it, too. Even through the thick underbrush, they were almost galloping, and when we broke out into the clear, they did. And they were faster than
any
horse I’ve ever been on.

: She’s running!:
Ardred cried, his mental voice sharp with fear.
:He’s coming after her!:

We hit the real road, the one I’d left several days ago, and in the middle distance I could see what looked like a shabby wagon loaded down with household goods. Between us and the wagon was a girl, a child, really. She had nothing on but a shift, and as we pounded toward her, I could see there was a man chasing her, cursing. We got nearer and nearer. I could see her terrified eyes. Her thin little limbs.

The bruises.

Bruises, everywhere.

Something snapped inside me, and I’ll tell you right now, I have no idea how I did this. I leaned down over Destin’s neck, held out one arm, and . . . I just begged that child to run for me, to jump for me. “Here!” I screamed, “Here! Jump!”

She should have been terrified. She should have turned right around and run the other way. But something came into her face, a glimmer of hope, then determination, and as we rushed down on her, she did just that. She jumped into my arms. We thundered past the man. Thundered past the wagon loaded with stuff. Which . . . looked all wrong to me in a way I couldn’t put together at the time. We turned, and without a word or thought actually exchanged, I tossed her into Ardred’s saddle, where she stuck like a burr. “Run!” I urged him. “Don’t wait for us. Run!”

He did. The man was on his way back toward us; he was a huge bull of a man, in a towering rage, and . . .

I’m no fighter, but I knew it would be a mistake to leave him.

There was a shovel lying under the wagon seat. I leaned down and grabbed it.

:Are you thinking—:
began Destin.

“Go!” I shouted, because the man was closing on us.

Destin launched straight into a gallop and was up to speed in a few paces more. I took a firm grip on the handle of the shovel, and as we charged down on the bastard that would beat a little girl black and blue, I summoned all my rage, stood up in the stirrups, and swung straight for his face.

I hit him so hard the shock nearly knocked me out of the saddle, and it broke the handle of the shovel. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him go down.

We kept going.

I didn’t look back.

Adred
did
wait for us, and the little girl clinging to his back looked at me with both hope and fear. “He’s never going to follow us,” I told her. “He’s never going to hurt you again.”

I certainly hoped he wasn’t, because my arms were still tingling from the shock of that hit. The little thing burst into tears,and jumped out of Ardred’s saddle for me. I realized it at the last minute, fortunately, and caught her, and she clung to me and cried. Ardred’s eyes rolled with alarm, but I just smiled at him. “It’s all right. She just needs someone to hold her.”

The gods know I’d held plenty of women in my time who’d just needed someone to hold them.