Alberich did not so much dismount as fall out of the saddle, and he had to cling to it for a moment before his head cleared. Kantor swiveled his head to peer at him, but before the Companion could say anything, more aides came to take Kantor away with the other three Companions. Alberich set his jaw, swayed for a moment, and followed Selenay into the tent, intending to stay discreetly on the sidelines. That gray haze clouded his vision, but he had fought it away before, and he would fight it away now.
That was his intention, anyway—
What happened was that he got three paces inside the door flap, that grayness turned to blackness, and he passed out cold at Selenay's feet.
«»
He came awake all at once, and blinked up at white, sun-washed canvas.
"It's about time," Myste said dryly, as he realized he was not alone and this was not his tent. "Layabout. Come on, get up and get out of that cot; they need it for someone who's really hurt."
He sat up; it was a big tent, and it was full of more cots like his. He had been put in one right beside the tent wall; his nearest neighbor was—
"Jadus—" he said.
The lean Herald turned to face them without raising his head from the pillow, and grimaced. "In the flesh, most of it. They had to take the leg."
Jadus' eyes had that half-focused look of someone powerfully drugged; Alberich was surprised he could speak at all. "The saying should be, better the leg than the life."
He shouldn't have said that; he knew it as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Too late. "Better mine than his," Jadus replied, voice thick with sorrow. "But I didn't get to make a choice."
"Seldom does anyone." Alberich reached across and put one hand on Jadus' arm. He didn't have the words of comfort he wanted, not even in his own language, but Jadus seemed to understand that he meant to offer whatever support he had without words.
"Thank you," Jadus told him, in a tone that said he meant the words. "You know—they just dosed me. I believe I need to sleep... now...."
His eyelids dropped, and in a moment, he was asleep.
"Poor man. I hope we can find something he can teach at the Collegium—" Myste began, but Alberich interrupted her.
"Bah! A sad day indeed it will be, the day a Herald needs two legs to do his duty!" He would not hear of it, a healthy man, certainly no older than the late King, being given make-work, just because he lacked half a limb. "And of legs speaking—"
He looked down at hers; one of them was in a rather odd boot. A very thick boot. "I note that you manage, having not quite a whole leg. Unless a phalanx of slave boys you have, to carry you a litter upon."
She smiled faintly. "Yes, I broke my ankle. No, I'm not letting it stop me, though let me tell you, it still hurts like seven hells, and it's only because the Healers are very good that I'm not screaming now. Between their off-and-on magics and some truly vile concoctions, even if it hurts, I tend not to care, if that makes sense. And this plaster boot they've granted me lets me get around." She looked wistful for a moment. "Though, come to think of it, I wouldn't mind a squad of litter-carrying slave boys... ah, never mind. I'm supposed to tell you that Selenay sent me for you."
"Me?" He stared at her; he wasn't certain he'd heard her correctly. One of his last thoughts before he passed out, after all, was how long she would hate him—
"Of course, you. You saved her life, she knows that. Everyone knows that. You did it twice over, in fact, once by keeping her from following Sendar, and again, when that lot of infiltrators popped up." She spoke matter-of-factly, in such a way that he could not doubt her. "And you did more than that, although there aren't too many who know it was you that caused Sendar to send the reinforcements out to save the countryside. Ah—" She hesitated. "Just so you know, Selenay wants to keep it that way, except for those of us who were there."
He didn't feel up to stumbling his way through Valdemaran anymore, and reverted to Karsite. "Myste, I have no objection to that. He might just as well have had the visions as I; what did or could I do about them? I just blurted them out to you, and not even in a tongue he could understand. He understood what they meant, and in his greatheartedness, elected to save his land rather than his own life. He charged the front line, knowing what he was doing, and knowing full well that he had less chance of surviving that charge than a rabbit charging a pack of foxes. Let his people think whatever they want; he deserves all of it."
"I told her you'd feel that way." She nodded. "Anyway, Selenay did indeed send me this morning to stay here with you until you woke, and tell you to come to her when you did. A bit melodramatic, that, passing out at her feet, wasn't it?"
He winced. "I hope I was discreet about it."
"You weren't, but I don't think anybody cared; actually, those of us who were still able to think were trying to figure out if we'd have to get Crathach to mind-blast you to get you to stop being so infernally noble and self-sacrificing." she lifted an eyebrow at him. "You saved us from that by neatly falling over."
Well, he was cleaned up, at least; someone had done him that tremendous favor, and left him to sleep off his exhaustion in a clean white shirt and trews. The rest of his Whites were beside him on a chair. He started to reach for them—
"No," he said aloud. "I put them on for Sendar, but I do not think I will wear Whites again. Not unless there is a pressing reason."
Myste pursed her lips, but looked curiously satisfied, as if she thought she had been particularly clever. "I thought you might say that. So I stopped by your tent, and brought these."
She pulled a basket out from under his cot—and there were his form of the Heraldic uniform; the dark gray leathers he had worn up until they had left Haven.
"Are you certain you are not an Empath?" he asked.
"No, I'm a Herald with work to do, and now that you've been informed that Her Majesty wants you, I need to go do it." She softened her words with a slight smile, then suddenly reached out and took his hand.
"But I won't always have work to do," she said, giving it a slight squeeze. "And I find you excellent company because I don't have to pretend or mince words around you."
Then she picked up a crutch from beside her stool, stood up, and hobbled off.
He stared after her with bemusement.
:You really don't know what to do with a woman who isn't either untouchable or a whore, do you?: said that familiar, faintly mocking voice in his mind.
:Well, why don't you teach me?: he shot back, stung, and reached for his familiar gray leathers.
:I might. But you'll have to ask me nicely.:
His ears burned.
Changing swiftly, he headed out of the tent, intending to pause only long enough to tell one of the Healers that he would not be needing that cot beside Jadus anymore.