"Then why couldn't you have found your way just now by… feeling for that something that tells you where the clouds are?" She urged her horse forward, leading Rolf again.
"I… never thought of it," he replied. "But ordinarily it wouldn't help anyway—clouds move all the time. Just knowing where there are some clouds won't usually tell me where /am."
"But it will this morning. Keep focusing on those clouds."
"Focusing?"
It was a Reader's term. "Keep your attention on them. We're still twisting and turning—but are you lost now?"
"No," he said in wonder. "Thank you, Melissa!"
What she had used was a simple technique for teaching young Readers to sense the shape of the world about them—using whatever they found easiest to Read to locate other things.
Was Rolf Reading? He didn't feel like a Reader—but then he had no experience in verbalizing thoughts or other techniques usually taught to Readers as children. She had never heard of a Reader's being discovered through his ability to sense objects—but children almost always had that sense already when they were discovered, or developed it within a few weeks. It just wasn't very dramatic; even children whose parents were Readers were usually discovered when they answered an unspoken thought, or responded to somebody else's pain.
//Rolf!// she tried, projecting at the strongest level. He did not respond.
//It's no use,// came Torio's mental assurance. //I've tried, Melissa. He can't Read.//
Maybe you pushed him too hard, she thought, carefully not projecting to Torio. And being blind, Rolf wants to Read so badly that he can't believe he can do it. It was a common stumbling block, desire so strong that it produced frustration, while the frustration in turn prevented the budding Reader from recognizing when he did make progress.
Carefully avoiding the mention of Reading, Melissa asked, "What can you sense besides clouds?"
"Water," he replied. "Clouds are water, you know. I can go swimming and find my way to shore, because shore is where the water stops—and right this moment is the first time I've ever realized that that is how I do it. I can cause the air to move, to create winds—but again it has to do with water. Warm air carries more moisture; bring warm and cold together to get wind. Lord Wulfston has taught me a great deal about using my talent without wearing myself out—I'll never have his strength. But my single talent can be useful."
"It certainly is," said Melissa. "Have you ever thought of using your sense of where moisture is to get around better?"
"I don't understand. Any blind person can hear or smell where the ocean is—but all but Torio will fall over knee-high rocks trying to get there."
"You do not sense the rocks because they contain no water?"
"Perhaps. I never thought about it."
"Do you bump into people, Rolf?"
"They usually move out of my way."
"But do you ever? If you come up behind someone?"
He pondered that. "No… I don't think I have for a long time. I fall over everything else, though."
"Dogs, cats, chickens?"
"Melissa, what are you really asking?"
"People and animals are mostly water—warm water. Have you tried sensing them that way?"
"Not deliberately," he replied. "I'll try it. Thank you, Melissa." He fell silent. Again Melissa tried to Read him, and again found nothing to suggest he was Reading. But what could his «sensing» be if not Reading?
The sounds of battle could be heard through the trees now; it was full daylight of an overcast day, but it had not rained where the two armies clashed, and dust rose to obscure the scene as they reached the edge of the woods and tried to peer into the melee.
Melissa and Torio together Read the intertwined armies—but new troops were coming in from the north to aid Wulfston's people, while to the south the Aventine army was bogged down in mud, making very slow progress across the sodden plain.
Wulfston dismounted and stood at the edge of the woods as Torio described the battle. He held another map now—no, Melissa Read, not a map. A wax tablet scored into squares, which became the map of any area a Reader was Reading for him. Melissa Read in fascination as Torio pointed to sections of the tablet, and they became inscribed as he described them—woods, field, edge of the plain, advancing troops. "But right through this area," he said, running a finger down the center of the grid, "both armies are fighting. If you throw thunderbolts in there, you're as likely to hit your own people as the enemy."
"How many people?"
"Perhaps a hundred on each side—and both sides are inflicting heavy casualties."
"We've got to stop it," said Wulfston. "I had hoped to be here before they engaged. Now how do we—? I have it! Jara! Mik! Come here. You have the power to put people to sleep."
"Yes, my lord," almost in chorus, as the two minor Adepts left their horses and joined the Lord of the Land.
"We're going to put to sleep all the soldiers fighting in this area—it doesn't matter which side they're on." He handed the wax table to Torio, and the three Adepts joined hands and concentrated. Melissa Read the effect—raised spears fell from limp fingers; swords clattered to the ground; men crumpled and lay as they fell, deeply asleep and totally helpless. The dust slowly settled over them.
"Now let's drive the Aventines back into the mud!" cried Wulfston, mounting his horse and galloping southeast. The rest of his party quickly followed.
A fresh contingent of Aventine soldiers were marching toward the scene of battle. Their Reader reported what had happened ahead in dismay—and then, "Riders coming toward us—I can't Read most of them—!"
A sheet of flame leaped out of the ground just in front of the first rank of soldiers. They sprang back by reflex, bumping into the troops behind them.
But these were seasoned soldiers—their leader was shouting orders already. Archers stood and fired over the heads of the front ranks, toward the small band of riders—but the arrows were stopped as if they had hit a wall a few paces before the advancing band of riders.
Both Torio and Melissa told the Aventine Reader, //You can't fight us. Turn back. No one will be harmed if you will surrender.//
But of course at this point it was hopeless to ask for surrender. The army tried to keep coming, but again a wall of flame shot up before them. By now they were so close that Wulfston could shout across the gap between them, "Surrender now—or turn around and go home. We are not going to allow you to advance farther into our lands."
"Go on, Savage!" answered the Aventine officer, "use your tricks! You can only last so long—and then our army will take yours!"
"Keep that up, and soon you won't have an army!" Wulfston threatened, moving forward step by step. Several soldiers aimed their spears at him—but the wooden shafts of the weapons burst into flame in their hands!
Then flames were everywhere—spear handles, bows, arrow shafts, the wooden supply wagon at the rear of the troop—except for swords and knives, they were suddenly weaponless. And then men were screaming in pain and casting their swords and knives away—Melissa Read that they had become red hot!
That was enough—the young officer had the sense to order retreat before he had a rout to explain to his commander. They retreated with astonishing order—Melissa thought that under such circumstances, she would have fled at a dead run.
To the rear of the retreating troops, another unit was just dragging itself out of the mud onto the grass that provided firm footing. Half the men were trying to haul along a heavily-loaded supply wagon, its wheels mired to the hubs. They were out from under the rain here—Wulfston stopped where the scene came into view, concentrated… the sodden wagon covering peeled back, revealing food and weapons kept dry—which now burst into flame. The men leaped back by instinct. Melissa Read the soggy ground under the wagon suddenly become saturated—just in that spot, as the mud the men stood on became firmer, its accumulation of water gone elsewhere.