"Close your eyes, Kern." Trooper's voice was a low murmur in his ear. "Open your heart and listen to the wind."
Kern squeezed his eyes shut, doing his best to obey the elder paladin's words. The travelers stood in the middle of a high plain, ringed on all sides by saw-toothed mountain ranges, gleaming white with snow. Wind hissed through the dry brown grass, making a beautiful yet forlorn sound.
"A palfrey is a fine riding horse," Trooper went on softly, "but a true paladin must have a steed worthy of riding into battle. A charger, Kern. Let the wind carry your call for a charger."
Kern's brow furrowed in concentration. He wasn't exactly certain how this was supposed to work. He had heard stories, of course, telling how famous paladins summoned snorting, stamping chargers to their sides with little more than wishful thoughts and prayers to Tyr. However, he had always assumed they were just that-fireside tales.
Trooper had been all too happy to correct him. The weathered paladin told how he had summoned his own dun-colored stallion, Lancer, many years before, and Miltiades had in turn recounted how he had called his first charger, long years ago. Now it was Kern's turn. He tried to imagine his message ringing out over the plains, all the way to the distant mountains. A charger, Tyr, he thought. Let a charger heed my call.
After a long moment, his eyes blinked open.
"Now what?" he asked.
Trooper gave him a quizzical look, then shrugged his thin shoulders. "Now we journey on. If a steed has heard your call, it will find us."
"If it didn't run as fast as it could in the other direction, that is," Listle added impertinently.
Kern groaned. "Listle, don't you have something better to do than make fun of me constantly?"
The elf thought about that for a moment. "No," she decided finally, shooting him a winsome smile.
Kern sighed. "Just checking," he said gloomily.
The four rode on across the frozen plain. No more than a quarter hour had passed when Kern heard something rustling through a nearby stand of tall, dry grass. His heart leaped in his chest. Could it be his charger? He dismounted, peering into the high grass expectantly.
With a snort, something burst into the open.
Listle's trilling laughter rang out brightly. "I don't know, Kern," she said with mock gravity. "Don't you think it might be difficult to joust with your heels dragging the ground?"
"Very funny!" Kern snapped hotly. He glared downward as the beast he had summoned oinked happily, nuzzling its bristly snout against his leg.
"I have only one question, Kern," Trooper said, his eyes sparkling. "Do you think you should ride it or roast it?"
"I'm not laughing," he grouched. Kern shook his leg, trying to get away from the pig. It grunted and trotted after him, its pink eyes shining with affection.
It took the better part of an hour and all the hazelnuts left in Kern's saddlebags to convince the pig to trot back into the tall grass. Finally, the four rode on.
It was nearing sundown when the riders halted on the edge of the plains. They made camp in a grove of oak trees at the foot of a high mountain. While the others busied themselves, Kern wandered to the edge of the grove. The westering sun had set the plains afire with color. A cold wind rushed down from the mountains, tangling his red hair.
Before he even knew what he was doing, he closed his eyes, once again sending out the call.
It was hard to forget Listle's laughter, or the amusement in Trooper's wrinkled eyes. Kern clenched his hands into fists. He had to show them that he could do it. Beside, he thought, there wouldn't be any witnesses if he failed this time.
He cast his thoughts to the wind, calling out with all his spirit. How long he stood there, he wasn't certain. But when he finally opened his eyes, the sun had dipped below the horizon, and purple twilight was filling the arms of the mountains.
For a time Kern listened, but heard nothing except the soft, lonely voice of the wind. With a sigh, he turned back to camp, hoping the others wouldn't guess what he had been trying to do.
Unfortunately, his worst fears were realized the moment he stepped into the small clearing where they had set up camp. Listle, Trooper, and Miltiades were all staring at him.
"Er, Kern," the elf said after a moment's pause. "You've, ah, been trying to summon a charger again, haven't you?"
His shoulders drooped in dismay. "How did you know?"
"Oh, just intuition." Listle grinned crookedly. "That, and the big horse that's following you."
"What?"
Kern whirled about, his jaw dropping in surprise. He must have been so caught up in his gloomy reverie that he hadn't even noticed.
The steel-gray charger snorted softly, tossing its proud head. It moved forward, nuzzling Kern's outstretched hand. It was the most beautiful horse he had ever seen.
"Not bad, son," Trooper said, scratching his long white beard thoughtfully. "Not bad at all."
"You've gained the second power of a paladin, Kern," Miltiades announced gravely.
"But don't let it go to your head," Trooper quickly interjected. His bushy eyebrows bristled wildly. "You still have yet to master the third and final power. And that is the hardest one of all."
Kern, stroking the charger's smoothly muscled neck, barely heard the old paladin. "Your name will be Nocturne," he murmured softly.
The charger snorted, stamping a hoof, as if it was already well aware of this fact.
All the next day, they picked their way along narrow mountain trails. They kept to the valleys as best they could, but twice they were forced to guide their mounts up high passes treacherous with snow and ice. The day was clear and cold, and at times the sunlight reflecting off the snow was blinding.
Despite the difficult terrain, they made good time. They were able to use Kern's palfrey as a pack horse, and that lightened the burdens the other mounts had to bear. Sitting astride Nocturne, Kern felt as if he had ridden the massive gray charger a thousand times before. The horse seemed to know exactly what Kern wanted him to do a half-second before Kern even thought it himself. The charger was strong and surefooted, eager to take the lead, breaking trail through high drifts of snow, picking the best route across dangerous stretches of loose scree.
Twilight found the companions deep in the mountains, seeking shelter among the pines in a narrow gulch. Listle had cast a spell of divination, hoping to discover if they were near Evaine, but she could not yet detect any traces of the sorceress.
Kern and Listle scouted through the forest in the gathering gloom, looking for firewood.
"I wonder how Daile is," Kern said as he broke a dead branch from a fallen tree.
"I hope she had better luck with the flying carpet than we did," Listle replied, gathering some dried moss.
"What do you mean, we? As I recall, you were the one steering the thing."
"Hmm, now," Listle murmured sweetly, as if she hadn't heard him. "I wonder if there are any nice mushrooms around here." She poked among the thick carpet of fallen pine needles. "Ones with pretty purple and red splotches would be nice." She smiled nastily. "After all, Kern just loves mushrooms…"
Kern groaned and moved off to find more firewood. A short while later, the two started back toward camp, Kern's arms full of wood and Listle's pouches full of tinder and, Kern suspected, poison mushrooms.
"Make yourself useful for a change, Kern," the elf said when they reached the steep, slippery bank of a small gully. "Give me a hand." Kern scrambled up the slope, dropping his load of wood at the top.
"Here, take my hand," he said, reaching down. She put her small hand in his, and he heaved her up the slope.
However, as Kern leaned back, his heel skidded on a patch of loose rock. Both he and Listle went tumbling head over heels back into the gully. Kern grunted as he struck bottom, and a half-second later he grunted again as something heavy landed right on his chest, knocking the air out of him.