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Inherit the Wind	By : Ash_Gray_Kitsune Category: S through Z > Valdemar Series Views: 1128 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Valdemar Series. It's rather obvious that I make no money.

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Stormyr winced as the wind picked up a little more, causing his Companion to shiver violently, Sending a wave of pain that clouded his eyes as she stumbled again. She'd injured her foreleg on a bad curve some leagues behind them, and he'd been walking beside her ever since, his boots soaked and feet chilled to the bone while the wind whipped through his cloak. This was a bad section of the trail; despite the map's assurances, the crumbling shale and thick snow made for uneven and uncomfortable footing. He still wondered if they were even heading towards Petras; surely they must be close, since so large a city couldn't be so easily passed. But they'd been traveling through this forest for a couple of weeks, though, and despite her surety that they were alone, he couldn't help but feel watched, like a hawk after its favorite species of field mouse.

:I'm sorry, Chosen...: He felt her sorrow at causing him pain, and sent a wave of reassurance down their bond.

:Don't be, Catling. It wasn't your fault those bastards were pressin' us ta go so fast. I shoulda been watchin' better.:

:No, Chosen...:

:Catling, let's jus' focus on makin' it ta th' campsite Genn told us 'bout. Though, how we're gonna get warm's utterly beyond me...: He resolutely pushed thoughts of the other Herald out of his head; he was both angry and upset that Genn had left both of them on the trail alone. He knew why, oh indeed he did; an emergancy had occurred in far off Valdemar, an event of such dire tidings that even he had felt it, resounding down the bond he shared with his Catrea from the bond all Companions shared. Even now, despite his anger, the fear and dread still sat in his stomach, an ache he couldn't get rid of, and couldn't quite entirely ignore it.

Genn had said something about the King demanding his return, and after tossing them the map, the rest of the supplies, and his extra arrows, he'd taken off in a dead gallop. Stormyr had looked at Catrea, who given him the equine equivialent of a shrug, and suggested that since they hadn't been summoned, they take a gentler course of action. He hadn't minded at first, but the northern winter had come early, apparently, and right about now, even with supplementing his diet and hers with forage and hunting, he wanted nothing more than a warm bed, warm food, and warm stabling for the exhausted and injured mare. He paused as a particularly horrid wind sent chills straight through him, and suddenly cursed as Catrea stumbled again, this time going down on her knees with a hoarse scream.

:Catling!:

:Stormyr, I think I broke something!: Her Mindvoice nearly made him fall to his knees in agony, and he helped her lay all the way down before glancing around, searching for some way to put up the tent currently strapped to his back...He caught a glimpse of the bowed old tree fifty paces behind him, half-covered in shadows and snow, and caressed her forehead, staring into pain-filled blue eyes.

:Dammit...Hang on, Catling. There's a willow grove a little behind us. Wait here, and I'll cut a few of the branches for the tent.:

:I'm not moving anywwhere, Chosen...: She sounded so distant, and he felt sickened when he caught the sight of her leg, clearly broken at the ankle, the bones pressing against her skin. He took off at a dead sprint, thankful that the snow had been broken in their passing, and that the skies were only spitting it out at the moment, rather than blustering like earlier. Out came his dagger as he skidded to a halt before the tree, and after a few moments of curses and half-frozen counting, he had eight long switches, devoid of even the hardest buds, and he bundled them close, making his way back to his poor Companion...when he realized that they weren't alone. A tall figure stood above his fallen lady, wrapped in a long white cloak, his silver hair a stark contrast to dark skin. Blue eyes, the same shade as Catrea's, surveyed him over a scarf wrapped tightly around the lower half of his face. Those eyes narrowed, and Stormyr made his way closer, one hand freeing itself to rest on his sword's hilt, despite how strangely it rested at his hip, rather than over his back.

:Catling...:

:He's angry, Chosen. He blames you for this...:

:I don't care who he blames, but should he lay a finger upon you...:

:I am no such monster, young man.: This Mindvoice was cool, collected...ancient as the trees around them, and angry as well. Stormyr stood his ground, dropping the willow switches and drawing his sword.

:Then why do you terrorize my Companion? She is injured, I am trying to help her!:

:So, you erect a shelter and leave her outside it? Hope that she might survive?:

:NEVER!: The roar startled him, as it did the stranger, and a cool respect filled those expressionless eyes. He surveyed Stormyr once more, then motioned with one hand...and the forest erupted into an organized chaos, as several dozen men leapt out of trees, from around the rocks, from the very snowbanks. All of them converged on the Herald and Companion, shock making it pathetically easy to disarm him before binding his arms behind his back, and the man reached out, touching his forehead lightly, right between his eyes. :Sleep, white-clad stranger, and we shall take the measure of your true character...: With that, Stormyr blacked out entirely, lost in the darkness of a winter storm.

:Chosen?: The plainative tone and soft touch of his Companion's nose woke Stormyr with a start, and he found himself face to face with Catrea, her long leg wrapped in a neat cast, her body curved around his and sitting upright. He reached over and embraced her neck, taking comfort in the smell of warm horse and a soft mane. :Stormyr...:

:I thought I lost you...: She nosed him back gently and nuzzled his hair, whuffing hot, hay-scented breath against his neck.

:You would have known that, Chosen. We would have been in the Havens together.: Her simple words soothed him, and he let her go carefully, levering himself up into a crouch, surveying the...cave? He stared at the cool stone overhead, suddenly confused, and looked back at the Companion, who tossed her head and whuffed out a sigh. :We're being watched.: He shoved his long, unbound hair out of his face, eyes wary.

:D'you know who they are?:

:I have a suspicion, but nothing more. I'm...I'm not quite all here, Chosen.: He sighed, and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

:I figgered. Try'n rest; I'm gonna try an' talk 'em outta somethin' ta eat.: He stood, swaying a bit as he overbalanced, then took a few steps forward, still feeling dizzy and overstrained, something he remembered Catrea talking about when they'd rested in Mournedealth. But his Gifts were mediocre at best; Mindspeech strong enough to do both parts of the Truthspell and Farsight, but nothing more. Catrea had hinted at being able to boost his abilities, but like her speed and endurance, it would leave her the next thing to unconscious. And though he wished now they'd simply taken the trade roads after all, he wouldn't wish that on her. Glancing down at himself, he swallowed nervously; these clothes were far better than anything he'd ever worn, and touching the fabric of his shirt, he took in a shaky breath. Silk, unless he was really as delirious as he thought he was, and supple calfskin breeches. He was, however, barefoot, and the chill of the cave floor woke him out of his daze, and made him move much faster. He made his way across the smooth floor and rounded a curve, only to fall flat on his rump again when an avalanche of yelping, yipping puppies swarmed over him. Several climbed up on his chest and used his head as a springboard, while the rest began to play tug-of-war with his clothing and fingers. Carefully, since they really weren't much more than a few weeks old, he eased each puppy off and tried to stand again...only to fall against the wall as what was presumably their mother stalked over, her lip lifted.

:Human, you had best head back to your steed; I will not save you should the mothers see their cubs with you.: That Mindvoice was strong, so strong, in fact, that it almost compelled him back to Catrea, his stumbling feet moving on their own accord, not his. The beast's shoulder stood easily at his hip; from the front, she looked to be an enormous wolf...but along her sides, she was as rangy lithe as any grass-cat. :A kyree...: Catrea's eyes were as wide as his, and she dipped her head respectfully, earning a look from the kyree; she responded in kind, then turned amber eyes back to Stormyr. :Here is safe; Lightwing will be back soon. I am tasked with caring for the children, but I will open myself to some questions, if you will use Mindspeech.: She settled on her haunches, eyes locked on his. She was all white, save for a dark pattern of gray on her back, and a few scars across her muzzle and ears. Stormyr blinked, then glanced at Catrea.

:She is safe, Chosen. I have sensed her, but I have not yet had the opportunity to speak with her.:

:So now you both do. Speak; I do not have a great deal of leisure time.:

:Where are we? How long have I been asleep? Who healed Catrea?:

:Ah, a youngster. You are in the Frostveil Caves, outside of Zalmoa, a tentative part of Valdemar. You traveled here via litter, courtesy of the Hawkbrothers who cast you into slumber. You have been unconscious for nearly a week, healing from severe hypothermia. Our Healer, Kyrrl, Healed both you and your lady; your body was shutting down, so we had to focus on you first while the Hawkbrothers brought the mare in. I must admit, you are tougher than you appear; you fought the compulsions with more will than you were granted, and for that, I apologize.:

:How far are we from the Valdemaren border?:

:Four days travel, two if you skirt through the forest. I would not advise this; there is a firm, well-known game trail that leads to the town. But in any case, it is a whiteout outside, so even we cannot leave the caves for fear of becoming lost. Give the world a week to settle; winter is half-done here, and in that seven days, the blizzard will fade, and the snows will begin to melt. Then, you may set forth.:

:...Thank you.:

:You are welcome, though I suspect that you'll feel differently after the Tayledras return.:

:How so...?:

:Those of k'Verei are rather...protective. They do not appreciate those who trespass, even unknowingly. Lightwing, however, followed you until you crossed into our territory, and by the laws and treaties, he cannot stay you, only interrogate. He will be harsh, and probably very cruel; he does not hold most Outlanders with respect. Least of all when they smell of the far south, of blood and war. I suspect you have an explanation; please, save it to use on him. Kyrrl has seen your heart and declared it true, and that is enough for the kyree.: Her ears perked up, and she nosed the air. :They have returned. I must leave you and take the children back to their mothers. Remember what I said; they cannot harm you, and would not dare. Our elder will be with you.: With that, the kyree slipped away, leaving man and mare to stare at one another, the air between them charged with nervousness.

:Dare we...?:

:Don't think that's a good idea, pretty lady. Let's just...wait here. We can't do anything more for now.:

"WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE HAVENS DO YOU MEAN, YOU DON'T KNOW WHERE THEY ARE?" Amily winced as her father's bellow echoed through the palace, and edged closer to Mags, Lena mirroring her movements with Bear.

"Sounds like Nikolas's fryin' sommun..." Mags commented laconically, his clever hands weaving another bracelet out of Dallen's hair for Amily, since hers had frayed to pieces from the constant worrying she'd done just a year ago. She winced again at his comment, and sighed, her own hands busy braiding ribbons for a cousin's baby.

"You're not far off from that, from what Father's told me. You probably don't know him, but Herald Gennof and his Companion Olli set out almost a year ago with a Companion who hadn't yet chosen to find her Herald. Word has it that when everything came to a head up here, Genn and Olli raced off to Valdemar...and left the new Herald Trainee to make his way up alone. Now, they can't find them, and even though he's one of the Heads of the Heraldic Circle, Father's just now found out. He hasn't been able to corner Genn until now..." Bear huffed out a tired laugh and pulled his lenses off, setting the herbs he'd been grinding to the side. The foursome had taken refuge in Amily and Nikolas's front room; the King's Own was a floor above them, in the Herald's wing, probably in the hapless Herald's room. Nikolas, in spite of the stresses he was under, truly did not get angry that often; it took monumental amounts of stupidity to induce this much yelling. As the Healer trainee rubbed his eyes, Lena played a comic flourish on her lute, eliciting a few more smiles and lightening the air.

"Why don't we go out and visit Dallen? I'm sure he'd welcome the hot pies from the kitchen."

:Tell Lena that she gets a free ride in the snow.: Mags laughed out loud at Dallen's eagerness and he nodded, standing up and offering his hand to Amily. Her leg was healed, but she still limped a little; she could ride normally now, however, and had been making great strides in strengthening her legs with daily rides out in Companion's field with either Dallen or the young Companions.

"Dallen says ta bring 'im a couple o' pies, an' 'e'll letcha ride fer a while." Lena squeaked and grabbed Bear by the arm, dragging the lanky young man out as he laughed, while Mags and Amily followed at a statelier pace, pulling all four cloaks down and pulling theirs on before they ventured out into the drafty halls. As the four youngsters made their way down to Companion's stable, where Dallen was waiting patiently, Nikolas glared down at the young blonde sitting before him, and sighed.

"Dammit, Genn, you know better than to hare off like that, and leave a newly Chosen with his Companion alone on the roads."

"But, he's..."

"I'm well aware that he's a skilled swordsman and campaign caravan guard. That does not, however, make him capable of making the journey to a place he's never even seen before with an outdated map and a young Companion whose Mindspeech is hardly strong enough to be heard over a league, let alone an entire country. You were his teacher and mentor; you will be penalized for this, and I expect the utmost dedication to the tasks we give you for the next two years. After that, you may go on Circuit, but you will not be allowed to mentor until you've proven to us that you're ready to." Gennof looked heartbroken, and Niko felt Rolan's presence in his mind.

:I'd say you were harsh, Chosen, but I'd be rather a hypocrite. Tell him that he can come do some stable cleaning for awhile; then he and his Companion can shovel out the old temple out in the field.: Niko hid a smirk with difficulty, and nodded to Genn.

"You and your Companion will spend the rest of the week cleaning out both stables, and the temple in Companion's field. I will be checking in." He turned on his heel and let the door close with a slam, then made his way back to his suite. There, he had to smile a little at the array of hobbies the children had left, presumably when he started yelling.

Mag's bracelet for Amily, the braided ribbons, Bear's set-aside herbs, Lena's harp left forgotten on the chair. He left them where they were; he didn't mind the kids coming in to keep warm and spend time together, especially because all four of them were not the kind to wreck havoc on a household, and truth be told...he was happy that Amily had friends, and a love to devote her attention to. It made him a little sad, remembering what he'd had before, when it was just the two of them...but it also made him feel less worried, less likely to stress over her when his attention had to be elsewhere. A Bard, a Healer, and a Herald and his Companion...she could be no safer in all the Kingdom. Now, however, he had to focus his attention on the missing Herald.

:Rolan.:

:On it, Chosen.:
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Inherit the Wind