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.
I held her safe all the way back to the Waystation. It took some coaxing to get her to let go of me, but between us, Millissa and I managed, and we—well, I—got her filthy rags stripped off her, gave her a wash, put her into one of my shirts (which was certainly big enough on her to be a dress) fed her, and put her to bed.
Over the next day, Millissa got her story out of her. The man had been some distant relative. When her parents died, he’d come and taken everything portable, and her. He’d beaten her and starved her, made her do work that was far past her strength and then beat her when she couldn’t manage it. She had whatever it was that made a Herald, and Ardred had heard her crying for him, but he had known he was never going to be able to get her away on his own, so he’d recruited Millissa to help.
Her name was Rose, and she stayed glued to me like a day-old chick to its mother. I did what I always do for a female who is hurt and frightened and mourning. I soothed her, I listened to her, I held her and let her cry, I promised her that Ardred would always take care of her, and I let her cry some more.
The next day, that help finally came. Another Herald and a Healer, who would stay with Millissa until she was fit to travel while the new Herald escorted Rose and Ardred to wherever these Heralds lived.
Then came the hitch. Rose refused to leave me. She clung to me and wailed, and I couldn’t persuade her to stop. Finally Ardred solved it. :I can carry two,: he said firmly.
So that was how I arrived in Haven, about a candlemark after sunset, with a weary little girl in my arms who, after a good two weeks of solid work from me, had finally decided that she didn’t have to be afraid any more and could start to leave the terror and learn to live.
I handed her over to the Collegium people, Ardred was led away, and—
And I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking I turned around, saw one of those blasted white busybodies, looked into her eyes and—
Nope. Didn’t happen. No interfering know-it-all with hooves. Just a tired but cheerful fellow in green robes who had come to see to Rose and now was standing next to me.
“Well,” he said. “I suppose you’ve figured it out?” My bewildered expression told him otherwise. He laughed. “Ah, right. You aren’t used to the Mind-Gifts where you come from, are you? All right. I’ll just tell you straight out. The reason the Companions could talk to you is that you’re Gifted. Like a Herald, but different.”