Achan attacked through Mak. He punched Chod twice, only seeming to hurt Mak's hand. Fire shot through Achan's.
Chod stared at Mak, sluggish eyes sad. What's that for?
Achan ripped down a trellis and broke the narrow board over his knee. He lunged, poking Chod in the chest. Chod snagged it away. Achan charged, but Mak's size was no match for Chod, who knocked Mak flying with one punch.
Achan's mind floated into the air, drifting, detached from any other. He looked down on the scene from above. Gren, Chod, and Mak in the center of the vineyard. A dozen rows away, Bran searched.
Achan blinked and found himself inside Bran's head. The squire was filled with a fury and fear that matched Achan's. Aye, Achan much preferred Bran's thoughts.
Achan concentrated in Gren's direction. She's that way.
Thank you, Arman! Bran took off, sprinting, ducking under trellises, dodging low vines, cutting across paths.
A scream tore through the air, and Bran poured on the speed, heart beating as though it might erupt.
You passed them! Achan concentrated harder on the location. Go back two rows and turn left.
Bran obeyed and found Gren and Chod rolling on the ground. Gren clawed at the big man's bloodied face. He tried to hold her down, but Gren kneed him and wriggled free.
Bran drew his sword, steel scraping over wood. Chod froze.
Pulse thudding in his ears, Bran's hands trembled, making his blade quiver. Get up!
Chod stared, heavy eyes sizing up his opponent.
I could kill you or let you rot the rest of your days in the dungeon. Decide now!
Chod pulled one knee up and pushed himself to-
Icy water doused Achan's head. He jerked and gasped. He lay on cold ground on a dark night. Shadowed men stood above him. How had he gotten here? Was this Chod's reality? In the dungeon?
"Achan, for Lightness sake, lad, speak to us!"
Achan pushed himself to one elbow. "Sir Gavin?"
The sound of a long sniff and sigh met his ears. "Welcome back, lad."
Achan clutched the frosty grass beneath him and shivered. "Gren." Bran had arrived in time. He relaxed but his throat tightened, his eyes flooded. He blinked rapidly, not in the mood for his emotions to best him. "I looked in on Gren." He panted, sniffed away his agitation. "All is well now."
"Tell us," Sir Caleb said.
So Achan did.
Inko groaned. "This is going to be the end of him. You're all knowing that, right? If he's not being taught the proper way to use his gift, we'll be losing him."
"How?" Achan asked. "What did I do?"
"'Tis my fault," Sir Gavin said. "I told him to look in on a friend the other night, to teach him to watch. I forgot to explain he shouldn't do it often."
"What Sir Gavin means," Sir Caleb said, "is you should never watch without someone staying with your body, to check on you. The longer you watch, the more comfortable you can get. You can forget to come back or be lost to the Veil-"
"Or be killed," Sir Gavin said. "'Tis happened plenty of times. Man gets too fond of watching and someone stabs him while he's out of his body."
"And you mustn't control others with your mind," Sir Caleb said. "That's not an ethical use of your gift."
"It is a dark use of your power," Sparrow said. "Macoun Hadar wanted to teach me. Thankfully I left before he could."
Achan recoiled under the weight of so many rebukes. Hot frustration took over. "But I was saving her! You don't know. You weren't there. I couldn't let them… What was I supposed to do?"
"You must focus on your task, in your own body," Sir Caleb said.
"There's nothing to focus on! We're riding through Darkness for days on end."
"The lady is not your responsibility," Sir Caleb said. "You must leave her to Sir Rigil and Master Rennan."
Achan fought to bottle his anger. "Sir Rigil wasn't present. Bran was easily fooled by dung-wielding rascals who got paid for their diversion. No offense to Bran, but he failed today."
"And he'll learn from this experience and next time be more prudent," Sir Caleb said. "These things happen to us all. It's part of learning how to-"
"I'll not risk Gren to his inexperience." Achan stood and brushed the wetness from his britches. "He should learn before being entrusted with a lady's well-being, not during."
Another long sniff and sigh from Sir Gavin. "Let's keep going and we'll talk more of this tonight at camp."
*
Vrell kept a close eye on Achan. She worried for him. All he'd lost. And now his guilt over putting Gren in harm's way. She could think of nothing to do but pray.
They found the Zamar River and followed it north. Their horses carried them over the first patches of snow. Sir Caleb gave Achan and Vrell capes he'd acquired in Mirrorstone. Then he taught Vrell to make a snare out of twine, though they blessedly never stopped long enough to try it. He also gave more swordplay lessons and lectured Achan and Vrell on technique. Vrell's confidence grew the more she learned, but she dreaded every rustle or creak as an impending battle she would fail to survive.
The weather got colder and, thankfully, there were no more mosquitoes. Vrell woke one morning to find fresh snow covering her bedroll. They were still a day or two from Berland and were not supplied for such weather. When they stopped the next night, Sir Gavin allowed Sir Caleb to build a campfire. Sir Caleb tried to talk Vrell into going hunting with him along the river, to sneak up on a gowzal nest. Vrell did not want to kill anything with a knife. She went to Sir Gavin and begged his help. Sir Gavin urged Sir Caleb to take Inko instead.
But once they had gone, Sir Gavin lectured her. "If Vrell Sparrow doesn't wish to be Achan's squire, he should be honest with Caleb about it. There's no shame in being a healer. 'Tis a noble profession for a young man. Squiredom isn't for everyone. Caleb will understand."
"I'll find a way to tell him." Vrell cleared a spot in the snow beside the fire and put out her bedroll, loathing the impending confession. She stared into the orange flames. Sir Caleb might understand why Vrell Sparrow did not want to be a squire, but would Achan?
21
Achan trudged through the snow into the small clearing the knights had dug out. Sparrow sat cross-legged on his bedroll, pink fingers outstretched toward the flames.
Achan crouched beside the boy, numb from the cold. He drew his cloak tighter. Sir Gavin stood by the horses, rummaging through his saddlebag. Inko and Sir Caleb were hunting. The day's ride had been long and tedious. He had to do something active or he'd freeze. Or go insane.
He glanced at Sparrow. Time for another lesson. He pounced, knocking the boy off his bedroll. Their heads sank beneath the snow edging the clearing. Sparrow squirmed like a fish on the bank and beat his fists on Achan's chest. Achan rolled to his knees, flipped the boy over, and straddled his waist. Sparrow was a feather, despite his chubby gut.
"Get off!" Sparrow yelled. "The snow is freezing."
Achan swung his leg off the boy and fell into the snow on his back. "You should be more aware of who's around you."
Sparrow crawled to his bedroll. "I was aware you were warming your hands, but I did not expect you to attack."
Achan sat up and shook the snow from his hair. "If you don't take this seriously, I'll have to replace you as my squire."
"I have been practicing hard-" Sparrow paused. "Ah, well, now that you mention it, I am certain another would be better qualified for your squire."
"Exactly my point. I don't want someone else, but you're a weakling. There must be a way to help you grow some muscle. Maybe you should start carrying Sir Gavin's pack."