A favorite author of mine named Mercedes Lackey created the Kingdom of Valdemar. She has several wonderful series of stories about Valdemar published by DAW books. A warning to you Gen-only fans, her novels discuss and often include slash relationships (completely non- graphic mind you). This particular version of my story is Gen.

I have shamelessly stolen snippets from Ms. Lackey's own prologue to introduce this wonderful world to Sentinel fans. The story that follows is all mine. Of course, the concept belongs to Mercedes Lackey and most of the characters belong to Pet Fly, UPN and the Sci-Fi Channel, so basically only the plot is mine.

Enjoy!!

If you are familiar with her books you can skip straight to the story.

Companion mind speech is italicized.

Warnings: I don't think so.

Disclaimer: They are not mine. They belong to Pet Fly, UPN and Sci-Fi Channel, but since they don't seem interested in them anymore. I'm playing with them. No money made. Please don't sue.

Thanks to my wonderful editors, Laurie, Kathy and particularly Shallan who loves the world of Valdemar as much as I do. Any remaining errors are mine alone.

HERALD-SENTINEL
A New Beginning

Trishbsc

Prologue

The Kingdom of Valdemar was founded by the once-Baron Valdemar and those of his people who had chosen exile with him rather than face the wrath of a selfish and cruel monarch. In part, due to the nature of its founders, the monarchs of Valdemar welcomed fugitives and fellow exiles, and the customs and habits of its people had over the years become a polyglot patchwork.

The one rule by which the monarchs of Valdemar governed their people was "There is no one, true way." Governing such an ill-sorted lot of subjects might have been impossible had it not been for the Heralds of Valdemar and the Companions who chose the Heralds.

To the unknowing eye, a Companion would seem little more than an extraordinarily graceful white horse. They were far more than that. It was the Companions who chose new Heralds, forging between themselves and their Chosen a mind to mind bond that only death could sever. While no one knew precisely how intelligent they were, it was generally agreed that their capabilities were at least as high as those of their human partners were.

The one commonality among the Chosen (other than a specific personality type: patient, unselfish, responsible and capable of heroic devotion to duty) was at least a trace of psychic ability. Contact with a Companion, and continued development of the bond, enhanced whatever latent paranormal capabilities lay within the chosen.

Laws laid down by the first King decreed that the Monarch himself must be a Herald. This ensured that the ruler of Valdemar could never be the kind of tyrant who had caused the founders to flee their own homes. Second in importance to the Monarch was a Herald known as the King's (or Queen's) own. The Queen's own held the special position of confidant and most trusted friend and advisor to the ruler.

Vrondi are air elementals, beings from the other plane that when summoned are capable of revealing when someone is telling the truth. Mages and Heralds could both use the vrondi to force someone to tell the truth.

Candlemarks - unit of time similar to an hour. Named for the length of time it takes a specially made candle to burn down from one mark to the next.

The Palace-Collegia at Haven(Capital City of Valdemar)
This complex in the middle of Haven, consists of the Companion's Field, the Palace, the Royal Guard Army Armory, the Herald's Collegium, The Healer's Collegium and the Bardic Collegium, the Herald's Wing (where all Heralds are housed by the kingdom) and the House of Healing (a hospital).

Heraldic trainees wear a silvery gray uniform. Upon graduation, they wear white.
Healer trainees wear a pale green uniform. Upon graduation, they wear dark green.
Bardic trainees wear red-brown uniform. Upon graduation, they wear scarlet.
Children of nobles and other smart children wear a light blue uniform. They attend classes at any of the three Collegium according to their interests and talents.

Present Day

Captain James Ellison was quietly slipping between the stands of small trees. He was listening carefully and separating the sounds of human voices from the sound of the wind whistling through the branches. He was seeking out the direction of the harsh voices that the wind had carried to him a few moments earlier. He had to find a place to hide before his pursuers spotted him. This area was too open, the trees were too small and the branches too sparse to hide him. Ahead he spotted a small thicket of briar bushes. He crawled beneath the thorny branches wishing that he were somewhat smaller as the thorns caught hold of both his clothes and his skin. The woods were getting darker as the sun was lowering in the afternoon sky. Hopefully, those who chased him would lose the trail. He rested safe for a little while hidden by the thick undergrowth. He could not fail his mission. He was Valdemar's last hope.

He was the last survivor of his team sent to investigate disturbances in the forest. He had to report to Haven what they had discovered, having been sent here almost six months earlier by the Queen herself. Here was the Forest of Sorrows, lying on the northern most border of Valdemar. After the meeting with her advisors, the Queen and the Lord Marshall had taken him aside. Though there was no indication, the Lord Marshall had suspicions that they were spies in Haven. James was to tell no one but he was to investigate that possibility as well. Full two generations ago, the last Herald-Mage Vanyel had destroyed the evil mage Leareth and his Dark Army here. But, some of Leareth's followers had survived and the Darkness had been perpetuated. Rumors had been uncovered indicating that the Dark Forces were gathering again north of the Forest of Sorrows.

James had been ordered to lead a specially trained unit of seven guardsmen here to find out what was rumor and what was fact. He had the experience to assess the threat to the Kingdom. The first three months, they had tracked down and destroyed several small bands of soldiers; all of whom were headed north around the forest. They had also found the remains of several other groups in the forest. Some looked as if animals had attacked them. Others as if the trees had assaulted and destroyed the group. It was a mystery and the men in the unit did not like mysteries. While most of his men were very nervous about camping in the Forest of Sorrows, James found it a very peaceful place.

During the fourth month they had tracked another small band of soldiers who wore the symbol of Leareth. This time James and his team had been hopeful that they would be able to follow the group to where the main army was assembling. The team had become overconfident and sloppy as a result of their previous successes. What they didn't know at the time was that one of the dark mages had detected their presence and the purpose of their mission. These soldiers were leading them into an ambush. The nightmarish images still haunted him, every image clear as a bell in his memory.

Several Weeks Earlier

Serris was on point. He was a good soldier and the best tracker in the group, but not the most cautious of men. James was bringing up the rear. Though the tracks from the enemy led into the clearing, the area in front of them didn't look safe to James. It was too open. Surrounded by tall trees and thick undergrowth, it was the perfect place for an ambush. Before he could signal halt, the trap was sprung. Several waves of arrows flew forth from the trees surrounding the clearing. Two of his men died instantly during the volley, multiple arrow strikes making them appear to be pincushions. James felt the sharp pain as an arrow hit his shoulder. He heard a scream as Serris took one in the leg. No one in the group had escaped the arrows unscathed.

Once the arrows stopped falling, the swordsmen charged. James was knocked to the ground after receiving a glancing blow from the flat of a sword to his head. Blood poured down his face from the scalp wound. More blood flowed from the arrow wound to his arm. His eyes were open, but unfocused. He could hear the clanging of swords, the screams of dying men. He could smell the stench as large amounts of blood were spilled. He watched as his remaining men, outnumbered almost three to one, were quickly executed. Mercifully, James lost consciousness as the enemy was robbing the dead of weapons and anything else of value.

When he awoke, it was just before dark. James opened his eyes and struggled to focus on his surroundings. On the edge of his field of vision, he spotted the first signs of trouble. Scavengers, scenting the blood from the battle, were gathering at the edge of the clearing. They were awaiting the cover of full darkness before venturing into the clearing.

James knew that he had to move from the battle site. Generally, scavengers were cowards, but they tended to be braver when gathered in large numbers. James attempted to get to his feet. He was unsteady. The pain in his head was blinding. He managed to stumble about the clearing, checking on each of his men. James realized that he was the only member of the group to survive the trap. He dropped to his knees, weakened both by his injuries and the knowledge that he was now alone. He screamed, for how long he didn't know, but by the time he was done, his voice was gone. Looking around at the growing darkness, knowing that he was severely injured, he could not take the time or the energy to properly bury his men. He was forced to leave them where they had fallen and evacuate the area before the scavengers gained the courage to attack. In his weakened state, he was not capable of fighting off the hungry pack.

He gave the blood-soaked clearing a final glance before leaving. He was sickened by what had been done to his unit here, and the further indignities that would be visited upon the bodies of his men by the scavengers. He got to his feet. He had to move away from the area. He couldn't allow himself the time to mourn now. He pushed away all his emotions. Locked them away deep inside his mind, knowing that he would pay dearly for this decision later. His mission had to come first, no matter the cost to himself. He left the clearing and backtracked along their trail to a small cave he remembered passing a candlemark ago. He spent several days in hiding, venturing out only long enough to gather food and water to stay alive. This gave his body the necessary time to heal and his brain time to plot his next move.

After leaving his hiding spot, he attempted to complete his mission. As he was making his way north, the same band of soldiers that had ambushed his men found him. They'd obviously been searching for him and caught sight of him as he was drinking from a small stream. Looking around, James could not see any place to hide. Though he attempted to run, they were quickly upon him. A blow to the back of his head knocked him down. The soldiers tied his hands behind his back and a rope around his neck. The rope was rough and ground deep into the tender skin around his neck. It was tied tight enough that it rubbed his neck raw and bloody. If he didn't keep pace with the group, he was choked as they pulled on the rope hard enough to cut off his air supply. If he stumbled to the ground, two soldiers kicked him until he got to his feet. They gave him no food or water during the journey. Every three candlemarks, the group rested for one- quarter candlemark. James found himself wondering why they didn't kill him as they had mercilessly slaughtered his men. He didn't understand why he still lived, but during the trip, he had received a whole new collection of painful bruises to add to those from the fight. After a full day's march north, he learned that he had been brought to the assembly place of the Dark army for questioning. It was almost funny. By being captured, he had completed the mission that had caused the death of his men. Now, all he had to do was survive, endure long enough to escape and report back to his Queen.

He was led into a system of caves. Two brutal looking guards took custody of him from the patrol. They went further into the maze of poorly lit passageways until they stood in front of a wooden door. Releasing his bonds, they threw him into a dark, cold cell. He rubbed his raw wrists as he examined his place of confinement. There was straw piled onto the dirt floor substituting for a sleeping pallet and a bucket in the corner. The purpose of the bucket was obvious from the stench coming from the corner.

As he looked around, James shivered. He could feel the cold seeping into his bones. He knew he was going into shock, but he didn't care. James lay down on the pile of straw. Alone in the dark, the negative emotions that until now he'd held at bay, overwhelmed him. The grief over the pointless deaths of his men, and the anger at the realization that their sacrifice had been in vain, threatened to engulf him. Chances were good that there would be no warning to his people. He would die in this cell, far away from his own people. Exhausted from the long tiring march, and the emotional overload, James finally slept.

When the mage appeared in his cell, James thought he was still dreaming. "Stand up," ordered the mage. Stiff and unable to rise fast enough, one of the two guards who had accompanied the mage pulled him to his feet. The mage stared at James for a moment, then appeared to stare through him. Looking puzzled and not a little frustrated, the mage turned and ordered the guards, "Bring him." The two guards dragged James down the hallway to another room.

In the center of this room, stood a stone pillar. The guards shackled him to the pillar, with his arms over his head and his chest against the post. One of the guards ripped away the back of his shirt, exposing his back. The other picked up a long bullwhip. He uncoiled the whip, snapping it once against the floor. James flinched at the sound of the crack, then prepared himself mentally for what he knew was about to happen.

The mage started to speak, "You will answer my questions. Attempt to lie to me and you will feel the bite of the whip. Now, tell me. Does your Queen know the location of my army?"

James recalled one of the special training sessions he had attended concerning what to do if captured by the enemy. The instructor's advice was simple, to lie and lie frequently, with a bit of the truth thrown in occasionally. No one can withstand a determined interrogator forever, the instructor had explained. The best you can hope for is to be rescued. If no one knows where you are, the next best hope is to die quickly. However, before you die, it is your duty to give as many confusing and contradicting answers as you can.

James turned his head so he could look the mage straight in the eye and answered, "She knows everything. Dispatches were sent back to the Queen every two weeks." The mage shook his head and nodded to the guard. The whip fell across James' bare back leaving a thin bloody trail. James locked his jaw against the pain, refusing to grant the enemy the satisfaction of hearing a sound.

"Tell me what I want to know."

"Not only were the dispatches sent back, Serris was a thought projector. His thoughts were being relayed to Haven every other day," answered James, glaring at guard as he felt the second lash across his shoulders.

"Tell me what I want to know."

"I'm not telling you anything," James grunted out through gritted teeth, as the whip fell for the third time. Deciding that it didn't matter if he said anything or remained silent, he picked silence. They weren't going to believe anything he did say anyway, not this early in the interrogation, besides he was a terrible liar.

"You will. Eventually everyone does," sneered the mage.

"I'm not everyone," James answered. He held true to his word.

On the twentieth strike of the whip, he lost consciousness without ever having said a single word or making a single noise. The guards were forced to haul his lifeless form back to the cell. The next day James was again interrogated. This time they used branding irons on his chest, legs and the soles of his feet. Again, he held on. He told them several different stories of messenger relay systems and mind magic. Then, again, he remained silent and refused to answer any of their questions. The guards again had to haul him down the hall back to his cell. James listened carefully as he heard one of the guards speak as they carried him.

"Why doesn't the mage cast a truth-spell upon him, force him to talk."

The other guard replied, "He tried that the first day in the cell. For some reason, this man appears immune to the influences of the vrondi."

"Still, why are we bothering with him. Our sources at the Court report that the Queen is still completely in the dark."

"Because unless you want to wind up where he is, we follow orders. "

The guards dropped him to the floor of his cell and left. James groaned as he rolled over onto his side. Tremors of pain wracked his limbs as the dirt from the floor was ground into his burns. He had to figure out a way to escape now. The Queen knew all about the army, but she had been only guessing at the possibility of traitors in her court. Now that guess was confirmed as fact.

On the third day of his captivity, he was questioned by the mage again. Each time he refused to answer a question, a lightening bolt shot from the hands of the mage that would leave him convulsing with pain for several minutes. He didn't even bother to tell any lies this time. He just glared at the mage, never closing his eyes, never looking away. The mage actually appeared to be afraid of him at times. When James decided that the interrogation had gone on long enough, he feigned passing out.

As he was being taken back to his cell, one guard on either side of him and his arms draped over their shoulders, he managed to trip one of the guards. Once the man was off balance, he simply tightened his arms around their necks. He then knocked their heads together and rendered both men unconscious. He stripped the uniform off the taller of the two to replace his own torn and tattered clothes. He gagged them, then locked both men inside the cell that had been his and headed for the entrance to the caves.

Upon exiting, James did a quick recon on his way back to the forest. He was horrified to find several thousand soldiers gathered in the mountains and camped in a small valley between the two tallest peaks. As he made his way through the enemy camp, he was able to overhear plans being made. The soldiers were camped while they awaited several more contingents of warriors before invading the borders of Valdemar. James knew that he had to return to Haven as soon as possible to warn the Queen. In only a month or two, the army would be organized and ready to invade. They had much less time than the Lord Marshall had believed originally, and the army was twice as large as predicated.

As he made his way back towards Haven, he discovered evidence that during the time he was held captive, the enemy had sent several advance groups into the Forest of Sorrows to scout the way for the main forces. They had established several caches of supplies and hidden outposts. There was an old saying, 'only those with no evil intentions may enter the Forest of Sorrows and live,' but it wasn't holding true any longer. Again, James found evidence that several large groups of the enemy had been killed. He also found entire sections of the Forest had been completely destroyed. Exactly what had happened to cause the destruction, he couldn't tell. The force behind the destruction had to be very powerful in order to overcome the protection that had been present in the forest since Vanyel's death.

He knew that there were several groups tracking him now. James found himself constantly having to backtrack and hide his trail to avoid detection. He could not allow any sign of his passage south to remain. He had run out of time and the Kingdom was almost out of time. It was taking days to return to the edge of Sorrows when it should have taken only candlemarks. He was getting weaker and weaker with each passing day. He could not afford to take the time to lay snares or traps for food. Hunting would be too noisy. He stuck to traveling along small streams and rivers, both for the water supply and to catch the occasional fish for dinner, eating it raw.::

Present Day

The sounds of pursuit seemed much closer now. James heard the excitement in the voices as they had spotted his trail that led into the thicket. As he crawled out the far side, he saw that unless they followed him into the briars, they would have to backtrack. This would give him a good head start. He listened and determined that two different groups were now closing in on his current position from opposite directions. He leaned against a tall oak tree. His whole body felt like it was on fire. Exhausted and weakened by blood loss, he knew he could run no more. He drew his sword and waited for them to come to him. If he were to die, he would die fighting. They would not take him prisoner again.

Suddenly, he heard the pounding noise of thunder. The sound hurt his ears. The pain forced him down to his knees. He pressed his hand tightly against his ears to block out the noise. No, it wasn't thunder. It was the sound of hoof beats. Coming to a sliding halt in front of him stood a Companion. She appeared to be glowing, a swirling blue, in the darkness of the Forest. She was sweating badly and breathing hard. James had never seen a Companion this exhausted before. She had obviously come a long way in a short period of time.

"My name is Incacha and I choose you. Hurry my Chosen. They are coming quickly, but they are not as close as you believe. We must go now if we are to escape their grasp," the Companion ordered.

James leaned heavily for a brief moment upon the Companion's shoulder. Then, using the last of his strength, he pulled himself onto her back. Much more quietly than anyone would have thought possible for her size, the Companion glided silently away from the pursuit. James tried hard to stay awake, but he found himself dozing, resting his head on his Companion's neck.

Incacha knew she had to get her Chosen to help quickly. There was not one inch on his back that was not bruised or bleeding and he was running a high fever. Berrybay was the nearest city. There was a healing temple there where she could get help. As she entered the outskirts of the city, James became very agitated. As Incacha attempted to calm James through their bond, she picked up on what he was sensing. James had spent almost a fortnight in isolation as he had fled from his captors. Constantly on alert, his senses had been reaching farther and farther for any sound or smell out of place in the forest. They were now heightened out of his control.

The Companion hastily erected shields around her Chosen from the onslaught of input bombarding his senses. She turned around and left the city. They remained sheltered in the forest until James was calm again. Incacha knew that her Chosen could not travel through the major towns until he had control over his senses and learned how to shield himself. Their bond was not strong enough yet that she alone could shield him enough to withstand all the noises and smells of a large town. They would have to stick to back roads and avoid people. She could not even ask the help of another Herald or Companion. In the dire state he was in, James needed a strong healer. She traveled both day and night, stopping only long enough to force her Chosen to drink when he had the strength.

Though Companions, like their Heralds, did not often mate permanently, Incacha was bonded to the Companion Burton. She mind sent a brief message to her lifemate. "It was as you predicated. We are coming. Be ready."

After four long days of travel, Incacha reached Companion's Field. Companion's Field was several acres in size, set in the middle of the capital city of Haven. In the field was a stable for the Companions when the weather was bad, a granary and the tack shed. In the middle of the field was the Grove, the origin of the first Companions and the location of the Temple tower containing the Death Bell. Incacha headed straight for the Grove. No one but Heralds ever came to the Grove and even they mostly avoided the area. They would only gather at the Grove if a Herald died. Her Chosen would be safe here, in the peace and shelter of the Temple.

As Incacha came to a halt beside the temple, James awoke. Extremely disoriented he asked, "What's wrong? Why have we stopped?"

"We are home," Incacha answered.

James dismounted, somewhat unsteadily, needing to lean against Incacha for support. He looked around, not recognizing his location. He attempted to take a few steps away from his Companion, but he lost his balance and fell heavily to the ground.

"Do not worry. Just rest. We are safe here and help is on the way," Incacha suggested as she folded her legs beneath her and lay down on the ground beside James.

James, still running a fever and too tired to argue, moved closer to the warmth of his Companion and allowed the darkness to overtake him once again.

Healer-trainee Blair was walking along the paths of the gardens on the Collegium grounds. He loved the smells coming from the flowerbeds when they were blooming. It smelled of life to him. His caseload in the House of Healing was very heavy right now. Though called the House of Healing, most often it smelled of sickness and death. When the work got to be too much, he sought out the sanctuary of the gardens.

There were several hidden grottos with benches placed throughout the grounds. Blair found one that was unoccupied and sat down. He felt so tired and out of place. He had half a candlemark to find some peace before the start of his next class. His fellow classmates didn't understand him or his goals. Mostly, they avoided him. Blair knew they sensed something different about him. Blair felt the same way, but he couldn't tell what it was that made him different. Even his teachers mostly left him alone. Some did it because the strength of his gifts scared them, other were just jealous of his natural abilities to reach out to the patients.

Blair closed his eyes and let his mind wander. After a few minutes, he sat up with a start as his mind was filled with the image of a Companion standing at a fence. Slowly, he closed his eyes and let his gifts roam. Again, the same image appeared. Blair left the grotto and crossed the grounds of the Healer Collegium, heading towards Companion's Field. He wasn't sure why he was going there. He had a class in less than a quarter of a candlemark, but the image he had seen was drawing him like a moth to the flame. He quickened his pace and was soon standing in front of Companion's Field. There at the fence stood the lone Companion stallion he had seen in his mind. As Blair came close enough to look into the companion's deep sapphire eyes, he lost awareness of his surroundings.

In his mind he heard a gentle voice. "My name is Burton. I choose you. You must come with me right now. Mount quickly. There is someone in desperate need of your special gifts."

"But I don't know how to ride," Blair said hesitantly.

"Climb up on the top fence rail and pull yourself onto my back using my mane for a grip. Don't worry, I will not let you fall."

Blair followed the instructions provided by his Companion. Once Blair was mounted, Burton turned away from the fence and headed to the Grove in a smooth gallop. Blair tightened his grip on the mane and held on for dear life.

The Companion's gait was so steady that as long as he remained centered, Blair didn't lose his balance. After a few moments, when he had concluded that he wasn't going to fall off, he asked the Companion the questions uppermost on his mind since he had left the grounds of the Collegium. "Who is it that needs my help? Do they require healing of the mind or healing of the body?"

"Both and more," answered the Companion. "Let me explain. Listen carefully. Out at the Grove is a man who has been only recently chosen. He was badly injured physically by those who sought to prevent his return to Haven. A long time ago, he was granted special gifts. He is, or will be, a Herald-Sentinel. All five of his senses are heightened well beyond that of an average person. Right now his gifts are out of control. It will cause him great pain if he is brought any closer to the grounds of the Palace. We must go to him."

"All five," repeated Blair. "In the House of Healing at the Collegium, I've examined people who have one or two heightened senses. Once I examined someone with three, but I've never seen anyone with all five."

When Blair had first arrived at the Collegium, he was determined to become a new kind of healer. Most Healers either remained at Haven or were assigned to a healing temple in one of the cities, waiting for patients to come or be brought to them. Blair wanted to go to the sick. Usually, it was one of the Royal Guard units who brought the injured to the temple. If he traveled with a guard unit, he could get to the injured sooner, saving more lives.

He knew he would have to be capable of taking care of himself out in the field in order to ride with a guard unit. Blair couldn't request permission to take riding lessons, there was no justification. But if he succeeded in the other classes, he was sure he could convince one of the Guard Captains to teach him. Blair had taken every class that the Herald trainees had taken, except those related to the Companions and self-defense. He had actually tried the self-defense classes, but he had to drop out after the first few days. When it came to actually attacking someone, he couldn't do it. His gift of Empathy got in his way. When he struck a blow, the pain fed back to him though his gifts. He was forced to drop out. Not soon after though he met the one patient that had changed the entire course of his studies.

Blair recalled the trouble he had gotten into with one of the senior healers about that one patient. This particular senior healer had a very weak gift of mind-healing. Yet, he had diagnosed a patient as suffering from a mental defect rather than listening to the student-trainee he was supposed to be mentoring. The patient had reporting hearing voices when no one else was present in the room. Blair could not detect any problem in the poor man's mind and then, contrary to the instructions of the senior healer, had proceeded to prove that the voices the patient was hearing were real, just present a few rooms away. Blair had since made it his personal mission to locate others that had been similarly misdiagnosed. They had often been secured away from other patients because of safety concerns.

"I know, Blair, I knew everything about you the instant we bonded. The Companions are well aware of everything that occurs in Haven. Remember that." Blair felt the strong feelings of pride and love coming from the Companion.

"Because of the pain both physical and emotional, he is retreating into the nothingness. He can't protect himself from his gifts. Right now they are completely out of his control. He is also retreating emotionally. He has suffered greatly during his life, particularly the last several months. If left unchecked, the guilt, grief and pain will destroy him. That is partially why you have been Chosen, you will be his guide. Only a strongly talented empath will be able to reach him now. And only someone with ALL your gifts will be able to help him gain control of his gifts and use them, as he must in the future to protect and serve the Kingdom. The bond between him and his companion will help you both in the future, as will my bond with you. But right now, none of the bonds among the four of us are strong enough yet to provide the aid required."

"All my gifts?" Blair asked, slightly confused. "What do you mean all my gifts? Which gifts are you speaking of? I'm not sure I understand and what do you mean by I will be his guide? I've never heard about guides before. What does a guide do?"

"So many questions." The Companion tossed his head and laughed. "You will understand eventually, Blair. When the time is right, you'll know what to do. This you must understand right now. You must have great patience with this man. He has not yet accepted his gifts. He rejected them once before and buried them deep inside. But nothing can remain hidden forever. They have now reappeared, stronger than before. He must face his greatest fears if he is to be able to use his gift, as he must. You must go slowly with him. Do not push. We are almost there. Are you ready?"

"One last question. I mean at least for right now. I'll save the others for later. What is his name?"

"Captain James Ellison of the Royal Guard."

The Companion slowed to a walk as they came around one corner of the Temple. In front of them, lying on the ground was another Companion curled around a man like he was her foal.

The injured man never stirred as Blair dismounted his Companion, which was a very bad sign. Most soldiers Blair had treated remained alert even when injured. Healers had to be very carefully when approaching soldiers or mercenaries because they tended to attack first if startled. Blair dropped to the ground next to him. Reaching out one hand to the man's forehead, Blair lowered his shields and started a healer's scan, which would show him the location and severity of any injuries.

As he started the scan he spoke, "James, can you hear me?" At first, James did not respond. His eyes were open but empty. For several minutes, his only expression was a blank stare. As Blair watched, the man's respiration grew shallower with each passing moment. He knew he was losing his patient, but Blair refused to give up. He had never lost a patient before and he would not allow this man to be the first. He continued to call to the man louder and louder, both verbally and with mind speech. Blair, using his other hand, gently rubbed up and down James' uninjured arm. Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity to Blair, James blinked at him. Then, as the pain struck, he closed his eyes tightly, covered his ears with his hands and moaned.

"I'm sorry. So very sorry, take it easy. Breathe through the pain," Blair responded in a much softer tone of voice. Blair thought for a moment about the information he was receiving from his scan. The man had several severe injuries that were only partially healed, not to mention the dangerously high fever. But a large portion of the pain appeared to be the result of his heightened senses.

"Go away! Please, it's too loud. Please, stop the pounding. It's getting louder. It's hurting me. The sounds are hurting me," James gasped, as he tried to move away from Blair.

"Easy!" Blair answered sharply but quietly, preventing James from moving away. Motion would only cause more harms to his already weakened system. "I'm not about to leave you out here alone. I want to help you. Please let me try."

Thinking quickly, Blair figured out that the pounding that was getting louder was the sound of his own heartbeat and that of the Companions. "James, listen to me. If you focus, the only sound you will hear will be the sound of my voice. I want you to picture a wheel in your mind. You can use this wheel to turn each of your senses either up or down. Turning the wheel to the left will decrease the input. Turning the wheel to the right will increase the input. Got that?" Blair grabbed hold of James' hand, rubbing his thumb back and forth across the knuckles.

James' only response was to curl onto his side in a tight fetal position. So tight he was almost in a ball. Laying his head against his Companion's shoulder, he moaned softly at the pain. His Companion nuzzled his neck attempting to comfort him. "Listen to him, my Chosen. He can help you, if you'll allow him."

"Come on, James," Blair spoke softly and soothingly as he eased James out of the awkward position. He maneuvered James so that he rested more comfortably against him. "Try for me, please. Trust me. I can help you. Picture the wheel. Written underneath is the word 'Sound'. Turn the wheel to the left and the pounding will stop."

Blair expanded his own mental shields around both James and himself. As James felt the additional shields form around him, he was able to picture the wheel being described to him. As he followed Blair's instruction, the pounding he was hearing and feeling started to decrease.

"Better now?" asked Blair gently as he felt James relax slightly. James nodded.

"Good. Let's try to reduce the pain level now. Picture the same wheel with the word 'Touch' underneath. Again, turn the wheel to the left." Blair felt the tension leave the body resting against him as James took partial control of his senses. "That's enough for now. We'll work on the rest of the wheels later. For now, just relax, rest." Blair ran his hand across James' forehead and, using his gifts, enforced his order for sleep. He watched as slowly the eyelids fell. James dropped off into a deep peaceful sleep.

Removing his hand, Blair looked down at the man slumbering beside him. The sun had just gone down a short while ago. The moon had only just appeared in the sky. In the serene stillness of the evening, he watched over his charge. Blair felt strongly drawn to James. He had never felt this way before about any of his previous patients. The strength of the emotions he was experiencing startled him a little.

Remembering that there were other injuries that hadn't been tended to yet, Blair resumed the scan he had started earlier and began the process of healing the physical injuries. Unshed tears tightened his throat as he found and healed the deep cuts and burns inflicted on James during his recent captivity and daring escape. Underneath these recent injuries were the deep scars of old ones. In fact, most of the skin on James' back was covered with scares. Blair recalled his Companion's words, 'he has suffered greatly'. Goddess, what had been done to this man? As Blair expended the last of his stored energy, he stretched out beside James knowing that James needed the physical contact and the additional body heat. "No one will ever hurt you again," Blair promised the sleeping man as he finally gave in to the need for sleep himself. "Not while I'm around. I swear it." He pulled James's head against his chest and took James's hand in his, and drifted off to sleep.

Burton watched the two new heralds and his own lifemate as they slept. He took up the position of watchman, to keep his new expanded family safe, knowing full well, that the danger was closer than any of the Circle dared to believe.

Though it was a little before dawn, Dean Lyssa Edwards from the Collegium of Healing entered the office of her counterpart from the Herald's Collegium, Dean Joel Taggert. The House of Edwards was a well-respected family in the Kingdom. The family had long provided a strong defense on the southern border of the Kingdom. Renegade mage-priests from Karse using an unknown magic had murdered most of the family as they slept several years ago. Dean Edwards had been in Haven when the attack occurred. In honor of her family, she no longer used her first name. Everyone in Haven referred to her only as Dean Edwards. Dean Joel was surprised to see her in his office at this early hour. "I need your help," She stated without bothering to knock. "One of my trainees has been missing all night. So far he has missed two of his afternoon classes, dinner and his evening rounds in the House of Healing. This particular student has never been anything but completely reliable. He hardly ever leaves the Collegium grounds. He is dedicated to his patients and would not have missed rounds unless something was very wrong."

Dean Joel looked at her with a weary smile. "Would you happen to be referring to a trainee named Blair?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

"I'm sorry. I apologize on behalf of the Herald Collegium. You should have been notified earlier, seeing that you are responsible for all healer-trainees. Things are just very confusing right now. Blair was Chosen late yesterday afternoon. Right now he is out in the Grove looking after another one of our newly Chosen who was badly injured. His Companion brought him in from the north. The situation with these two men is the reason why the Heraldic Circle is in such an uproar. We find ourselves with two new Heralds, both well beyond the usual age of thirteen years old for a Herald-trainee. The standard training protocol cannot be applied to them. The Circle is meeting in a candlemark to discuss the issue.

The Dean appeared confused as she attempted to absorb what he was telling her. " You must be mistaken. Blair couldn't have been Chosen, he is to be a healer. No, you must have misinterpreted the situation. Blair simply went out to the Grove to help this Herald. That would be very much like him. Blair's gifts are the strongest the council has ever seen. Though he is still only a trainee, Blair would have drawn by his gifts to this injured Herald," Dean Edwards answered firmly.

Joel was puzzled by his counterpart's reaction to the news. She appeared to be angrier with Blair for being chosen than happy with the knowledge that he was all right. "His Companion says otherwise. Come with me. I was headed out there anyway. I'll take you with me so you may see with your own eyes what has occurred," Joel said, as he picked up a pack sitting by the door and waited for Dean Edwards to join him.

"This couldn't be happening. This has to be a mistake," Dean Edwards muttered under her breath.

The sun was just coming up as Dean Edwards viewed the scene in front of her. James was still asleep propped against his Companion. Resting peacefully, his physical injuries having been almost completely healed by Blair. Dean Edwards then stared at her star pupil who was also asleep against James' Companion. Pinning the woman standing at the edge of the grove with a glare, Blair's Companion assumed what was obviously a protective stance in front of the two men and the Companion lying on the ground.

Her voice was shaking as she spoke to the man standing next to her. "Only once before in our history, has a Companion chosen a healer. I thought the Companions understood that the people of the kingdom need healers badly. Particularly needed are the mind-healers, like Blair. That particular gift is still very rare."

"Your statement concerning the Kingdom's history is correct," answered Dean Joel. "During the reign of King Randale, Healer Sharvi was chosen to be King's Own. The Heralds believed that she was selected because the Companions knew before everyone else how ill the King would become during his reign. They knew that Sharvi's gifts would be necessary to prolong the life of the King and to ensure the stability of the Kingdom while the heir was being trained."

"It was my understanding that Sharvi was a special case. She was Chosen because she was lifebonded to the King. Those with the gifts of healing should simply not have their talents wasted by becoming a Herald," Dean Edwards responded, snidely.

Dean Joel paused, considering his words carefully before continuing. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean by your statement that gifts are being wasted. The services provided by the Heralds are the foundation of our kingdom. The Companions may have a special reason for choosing Blair of which we are unaware, similar to what occurred during Randale's reign."

"That is not the situation we are facing here today. James Ellison is a simple Captain in the Royal Guard, not a King," Dean Edwards replied, pointing to those by the temple in front of her with a wave of her hand.

"But the situation now may be just as dire as the one faced long ago. James is the youngest Captain in the history of the guard and the best we have ever trained. The queen herself selected him to be sent to investigate rumors of a second Dark Army on our northern border. We had not heard from him or his team during the six months that they spent on the border. Our Foreseers report that there are too many possibilities right now for any of them to have a clear vision of the future. Yet all report that they are experiencing dark, gloomy and frightening foreshadowing visions of terrible battles and enemies hidden within the court. Evil wearing dark robes whose faces are hidden, thus hiding their identities."

Joel thought for a moment whether to continue with his current line of reasoning. Dean Edwards did not appear to be in the mood to hear it. For Blair's sake, he continued.

"You must understand that as a rule, Companions do not interfere with the decisions made by their Heralds or with the politics of the court. Yet the same message has been passed from each Companion to his Chosen. The Darkness is coming, and these two men are our best hope for standing against it. It is the conclusion of the Circle that we must provide them whatever aid we can. I understand that Blair still has two years remaining in his studies as a healer. The Herald Circle has already agreed that his training as a Herald can be structured so that he may continue those studies."

Dean Edwards turned bright red with anger. "That decision is not up to the Herald Circle. The Council of Healers will decide Blair's future as a healer, if indeed there is any future for him there. Our Council must meet and decide his fate," Dean Edwards replied haughtily, turned away from him and headed back to her Collegium without another word. It was time to call the Council of Healers together and call in a few favors as well.

Joel waited for her to disappear from his sight. He dropped the pack over by the two men sleeping and knelt down on one knee. He scanned both men. Joel was sensitive to those with gifts. He could immediately tell what gifts a newly Chosen possessed. Once that was known, training plans were developed. Stunned by what he had found, he said, "This is going to be harder then I thought." Joel was not looking forward to having to explain this to the Heraldic Circle. He wasn't sure he understood it himself. The meeting was due to start in half a candlemark now. He had to get back. He rose to his feet and started out of the Grove. He turned back to the Grove for a final glance before leaving. "Don't worry," he projected to the two Companions who were both looking worriedly at him. "Your Chosen will be protected." He headed back to the Collegium. Time was short. Decisions would have to be made quickly to protect those two. Their position as Heralds-in-training had been placed them in his care. This was not a responsibility he took lightly. He would provide whatever protection was required.

As Joel was walking back to the Palace, he recalled the last foreseer he had spoken with. Megan was one of the most talent Heralds with the gift of Foresight. She had seen in one of her visions, several persons in dark robes plotting against the queen. She had been sure that two of them had worn dark green robes, while the others had all worn black. Most of the Heralds had assumed that these had been enemy mages. Part of the army gathering in the North. Now, he wasn't so sure. It appeared to him that the evil was already among them.

About two candlemarks after dawn, James awoke. He felt safe and warm, protected by the shields provided by his Companion behind him and the young healer beside him. What an interesting development, James thought to himself, his own Companion. As a boy on his father's estate, he had once dreamed of being a Herald. But when he wasn't chosen as a boy, he had run away from his father's house at fifteen to join the Royal Guard. Now at age twenty-five, his Companion had finally found him and the only thought in his head was that he was too old for this now.

"No, Chosen, you are not too old. I have been waiting a long time for you. You were not ready to be Chosen when you were young. But since leaving you father's house, you have learned what you needed in order to be one of the Heralds."

James wasn't sure exactly what he had learned, but he wasn't about to argue. He looked down at the young man who was still sleeping next to him. Reaching out one hand, he gently pulled back the long black curly hair that was hiding the face from his view. "I don't even know his name."

"His name is Blair. He is to be your guide. And if you let him, he will become that which you have always wanted."

"Right now, all I want is some food and something to drink."

"Open the pack by your feet. Everything you need is there. And while you're at it, open the packages of grain I smell in there. Burton and I are hungry too."

James opened the pack and found a large sack of grain, several bottles of water, and some sandwiches. "Who do we have to thank for the picnic lunch?"

"The Dean of the Herald Collegium. He dropped by earlier but he decided it was better to let us rest. Please, wake Blair. He exhausted himself healing your injuries last night. He needs to replenish his energy before he becomes ill."

James nodded then reached over and gently shook Blair's shoulder. Calling softly to him, "Blair can you wake up for me?"

Blair groaned, but didn't really wake.

James tried again, a little louder. "Wake up, Blair. Lunch is ready." James tried waving a sandwich under Blair's nose.

Blair opened one eye, then reached for the food. "That smells good. Does there happen to be anything to drink?"

James laughed and handed Blair one of the bottles of water. Blair sat up, a sandwich in one hand and the bottle of water in the other, and looked at the man sitting beside him. "How are you feeling this morning, James?"

"Call me, Jim. We're not being formal here, and I'm feeling fine, thanks to you," Jim answered as he bit into one of the sandwiches. Silence fell over the Grove. The only sounds that could be heard were the munching of sandwiches and the crunching of grain being consumed.

After finishing eating, both men remained silent, each contemplating the circumstances that had brought him here. Finally, Blair broke the quiet. "When did you first notice that your senses were heightened?"

"I don't remember for sure. I think it was during the time I was recovering from the ambush, hiding in the cave. I do know when they got out of control. I was OK when we were traveling in the forest, but when Incacha took me into the city, I lost it. All the sounds, and the smells, on top of the pain I was already feeling were too much. I couldn't keep it all out."

"Eventually you will get control. For now, remember to use the wheels."

"I will. Not much about the last couple of days is very clear in my mind. But that is one of the three things that is."

"What are the other things?"

"Huh?"

"The other two things that are clear in your head."

"Well, she's the second, probably first in importance through," Jim answered, nodding at Incacha. "She saved me. I thought I was going to die in that forest and she came out of nowhere and saved me."

"I can understand that. I feel the same way about Burton. What's the third?"

Jim turned his head away, blushing lightly as he mumbled something.

"What was that? Remember, I don't have your hearing," Blair asked.

"You. You're the third thing. Particularly the sound of your voice," Jim answered, clearly embarrassed by the revelation. "I can't explain it, Blair. I know we have just met. Yet, I feel that I've known you a long time. I can trust you. It's like, I can tell you anything, and you'll understand."

Blair nodded. "I know what you mean. I've been at the Collegium for five years, yet I feel closer to you than any of my fellow students. When Burton chose me, he said something about how I was going to be your guide. I don't understand what he meant by that though."

"Incacha said something similar to me. Guess we'll just have to wait and see what develops. Sounds like someone has a plan for us, which is good. Even if we don't know what it is. One more thing is clear to me, Blair. I'm not sure how I know this, but I do. I need you to help me with these senses."

"I know that too. I can feel it. I'm here for you, Jim." After a slight pause, Blair asked, "Jim, do you have any idea of the strength of your senses. What your range is?"

"No, I haven't really had time to think about it."

"How about we try a couple of tests?" Blair asked.

"Tests, no way. I hate tests. Always did," Jim responded, shaking his head.

"I'm just talking about turning the wheels up and down. See what you can hear, smell and see with each turn of the wheel. We can't really do anything with taste out here, and until you're fully recovered I want you to leave the wheel for touch turned down."

"I'm not going to get out of this am I?" Jim asked, with a grin.

"Nope," answered Blair, firmly. . "How are you supposed to learn control when you don't understand your abilities. Trust me, Jim. I know what I'm doing. At least, I feel what I'm asking is right. It's kind of hard to explain."

"I trust you, Blair, and you don't have to explain. I'm familiar with following orders without any explanation whatsoever, Chief."

I'm the Chief, huh. The guy who gives all the orders?" Blair asked already starting to plot.

"Within reason, Chief. Within reason," Jim answered smiling.

For the next couple of candlemarks, Jim and Blair worked on the wheels. With the help of their Companions, they were able to define the distances that Jim could see and hear. After the Companions were done processing their breakfast, they did a couple of long distance smell tests. Very long distance, Jim had demanded. They only quit after Jim's head started to hurt.

After, they lay on the ground, talking about inconsequential things, just getting to know each other. Jim spoke of some of the skirmishes he had fought as a member of the Guard. Blair was telling several stories about his travels with his clan during his childhood. Jim wasn't sure if Blair was either the most well traveled man he had ever met or just the best storyteller. As Blair was winding up one of his more outrageous tales, Jim spotted someone out of the corner of his eye. "Someone is coming," Jim announced, climbing to his feet, searching for something to use as a weapon.

"Jim, the Companions would not allow anyone this far into the field unless they belonged here," Blair replied. "I wonder who it is?" Blair could only see a small speck on the hill coming towards them. "I thought you had your senses turned down."

"If I'm not paying attention, they sneak back up on me. I guess I still feel like I'm on combat alert status, like during my escape." Jim focused his senses on the man who was approaching. "He appears to be unarmed and I don't recognize him, but he's wearing a green robe," Jim added.

It was several minutes before the man came into range of Blair's view, and several more before he was standing before the two men.

Ignoring both Jim and the Companions, the healer spoke only to Blair. "Healer-trainee Blair Sandburg, you have been order to appear before the Council of Healers. They are waiting for you now. Please follow me." Blair didn't move. He looked nervously towards Jim and the two Companions.

"I said now, Trainee," the healer ordered with a glare. After a final glance back at Jim, Blair fell into step a few paces behind the man. Burton moved into place next to Blair, staying close to his Chosen.

Blair's face lost all its color and his legs felt weak, but he managed to fall into step a few paces behind the man. Burton moved into place next to Blair, staying close to his Chosen providing essential support.

Jim watched them crossing the field until they disappeared from his view. Turning to Incacha, he placed one hand on her neck. "This doesn't feel right to me. Let's head back to the palace grounds. Maybe I can find out what's going on."

"Do you think your senses are ready to handle the Collegium?"

"I'll be fine," answered Jim. "Blair tests have actually helped me with the controls. Right now I've got everything turned down. But don't tell him I said that or he'll think up more tests."

"It will be our secret, my love." Jim mounted and Incacha headed for the Collegium. Halfway across the field, they meet Joel riding his Companion towards them.

"Hello, Herald James," Joel greeted. "You're looking much better." Joel remembered Jim very well from the days when Jim had attended classes at the Collegium when he had first arrived at Haven. All members of the royal guard attended basic classes in weapons, self-defense and tactics along side the Herald-trainees. James had been quite intelligent compared to the other members of the guard. He hadn't been afraid to challenge the ideas of his teachers.

"Do we have to be so formal?" Jim asked. Horrified by the idea of hearing Herald James everywhere he went. When Joel smiled and shook his head, Jim sighed in relief. "Then call me Jim. Let's try this again. Hi, Joel. Do you know what the Healer Council would want with Blair this morning? Why did they send for him? Isn't he a Herald trainee now? " Jim asked, with a very concerned tone in his voice.

"Slow down, Jim. I didn't know that the Council had decided anything about Blair yet. I had a brief conversation with Dean Edwards that admittedly went very poorly. I was just on my way out to speak with both of you. Blair is already with the Council?"

"Yes, and I'm worried. Judging from the expression on the messenger, it's not going to be pleasant experience for Blair."

"Damn, they should have spoken with me before saying anything to Blair. The fact that they have deliberately circumvented proper channels concerns me greatly. I have more news that you aren't going to like." Joel reached for the saddlebags behind him. He removed two bundles of whites and an official looking parchment. "This is a summons for both of you to appear before the Queen and Court in one candlemark."

"Why summon, Blair? He wasn't a part of the mission."

"Truthfully, it was the Companions's idea. They have indicated that it would be a good idea to keep the two of you together as much as possible."

"Did they say why? Jim asked, hoping Joel had more information.

"No and since they generally don't offer advice, this didn't seem like a good time to question the issue. I brought you each a set of whites for you to wear to the meeting."

As Jim reached for the packages, he said with a grin, "I thought Herald-trainees wore gray."

"Technically, both of you are considered Herald-trainees. But the two of you aren't exactly our average trainee."

Incacha snorted her agreement with that understatement.

"Hey, you're supposed to be on my side," James laughed.

"Always," Incacha answered.

"You have as much field experience and tactical training as most Heralds currently riding circuit. Blair is one of the most intelligent students it has ever been my pleasure to meet. Certain dispensations have been granted. I think the two of you will be taking the accelerated version of Herald-training, but all the details haven't been worked out yet. The meeting with the Circle has been moved until after the meeting with the Queen and Court. The uniform is just one of the exceptions that have been made for the two of you. I'll meet with you and Blair after your appearance before the Queen. We can talk about what I plan on recommending to the Circle. But keep in mind, nothing is written in stone. Things may change once we hear what you have found out. In the meantime, why don't you go get changed. Then I recommend you try to catch up with Burton. I saw him at the gate as I rode out. He'll know what happened to Blair before anyone else. We can plan whatever damage control is necessary for Blair once we know what happened." Joel's Companion turned and trotted off back in the direction of the Collegium.

Burton was still standing at the gate. Staring forlornly at the building where the healers were meeting. Incacha trotted over to his side and Jim dismounted. Not sure of the proper manner of speaking to a Companion not his own, Jim just asked his question out loud. "Burton, do you know what is happening with Blair right now."

Burton stared at him for a moment, then Jim heard Incacha answer, "The Council meeting is just now ending. Things have gone very badly for Blair." Jim reached out his hand to Burton to provide comfort to the mate of his own Companion. As soon as Jim touched Burton's neck, a multitude of images flashed before his eyes. He saw a group of men and women in green robes turning their backs on Blair. Jim felt the anger inside him start to grow as he saw the Council of Healers shun his friend.

Then, there was a picture of a dorm room, books and papers everywhere. Next, there was a pretty red-haired woman lying on the ground in front of a burning wagon. The signs of death and destruction were visible all around. Finally, there were no more pictures, just emotions. Jim knew, without any doubt, that he was feeling what Blair was feeling, hurt, fear and most of all, loneliness. Jim overwhelmed by the power of the negative emotions coming from Blair, from Burton and not to mention himself and Incacha, fell to his knees as everything went dark.

"What was that?" Jim asked when he regained consciousness.

Blair stood nervously before the Council of Healers. The last time he had been called before the Council, it was a celebration of his ascension from apprentice to journeyman. This meeting was not going to be a happy occasion. Even fully shielded, his gift of empathy was telling him that the healers before him were very upset. He couldn't tell whether they were upset at him or on his behalf. He looked each of the council members in the eye, not allowing his growing fear to show in his face. When he faced Dean Edwards, the feelings of hatred, loathing and, surprisingly enough, fear overwhelmed his shields.

Dean Edwards had already started to speak as he fought to reestablish his shields. "The Council has met to consider you status, Blair. You have been a student here since you were sixteen. In the last five years you have learned much, but there is still a great deal of information that you haven't learned. You now have a choice you must make. You cannot continue your studies here and remain one of the Heralds. If you wish to continue your studies to become a healer, you must repudiate your Companion."

Blair interrupted. "I can't do that."

"Wait, Blair. Before you give us your answer, hear the consequences of your decision. If you choose to become a Herald, the doors of the Healer Collegium will be forever closed to you."

Dean Edwards left her position at the table and approached Blair. Face to face with her, Blair could still feel her hatred of him. But he was confused. The feelings he was sensing did not match the words he was hearing. "Blair, you are one of our most gifted students. You have the potential to be one of the strongest mind-healers in the history of our Collegium. When Healer Stoddard found you in the remains of the caravan destroyed by the raiders, he could sense the strength of your gifts. Your grief over your dead mother called to him from miles away. He brought you here when he discovered that you had no other family. We gave you a place to live, food to eat and the clothes you wear. We provided the education that will enable to you to become a great healer. Think carefully about what you will be losing before making your decision."

"With respect, Dean Edwards, I have already made my decision. I cannot repudiate my Companion. That is impossible. We are bonded. Equally as important, I need to stay with Jim. I wish I could tell you what I am feeling. But, I am sure something terrible will happen to the Kingdom if I don't help him. There is something that we have to do, both of us together. I can't explain how I know this but..." Blair's voice trailed off as he realized that he couldn't put into words what he was feeling.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Blair. Collect your belongings from your room and leave within the next candlemark. You are no longer welcome here." Each member of the Council stood and turned their back to him.

Blair nodded, squared his shoulders, turned and marched away. He tightened his shields. He refused to allow the hurt he was feeling to leak through. He wouldn't give that satisfaction to the people who had just abandoned him. The only family he had since the death of his mother. The second family he had lost. As he headed for his dorm room, he felt his Companion reach out to him. "Don't be afraid, Blair. You will never be alone again. I promise I am here for you. I will never leave you."

Blair climbed the stairs to his dorm room. This room had been his alone for the last five years. The only permanent place he had ever had stayed at for this long a period of time. His mother had been one of the Travelers. Her family, the Sandburg clan, had been traders. They traveled from town to town in wagons, never staying in one place for very long. He had been on the road with her from the first moment he could remember. He never knew who his father was. His mother had refused to discuss the matter with him whenever he had brought it up, saying the he wasn't old enough to understand. She had promised to tell him on his sixteenth birthing day. She died two days before she planned tell him.

He hadn't been with the caravan when the raiders attacked. He had been hunting in the forest. He didn't remember most of the events of that day. He vaguely remembered seeing the smoke in the sky as he was searching for game. He could recall only brief flashes of his mad dash through the forest, trying in vain to get back to camp in time to help. His only clear memories were of his mother, dying in his arms, placing her necklace into his hand, closing his fist around it. It was the only legacy she had left to give him.

When he had lost her, and the rest of his clan, he thought his world had ended. Healer Stoddard had found him still holding his dead mother. Recognizing the strength of his gifts, Stoddard had brought him to the Collegium. It was here that he had a roof over his head for the first time in his life. Now he had to leave again. For just a moment, he felt a tremendous wave of anger sweep over him, then came sadness and finally darkness. He shook his head, attempting to clear his mind.

He removed the light green robes that had identified him to the world as a healer-trainee. He put on the only other suit of clothes he owned. The rest of the clothing belonged to the Collegium. Blair realized that the only thing that truly belonged to him was his mother's necklace. Not even the notebooks were really his. They had been provided by the Collegium. He placed his mother's necklace around his neck and exited the Collegium forever. Not knowing exactly where to go, he headed for Companion's Field. Burton would be there, he had promised. As Blair ducked under the fence, he realized that Burton wasn't alone. Standing beside him was Jim and Incacha.

Jim was wearing the standard white uniform that only full Heralds wore. In one hand he held a parchment with the Royal Seal. In his other hand, he held a second bundle of whites. Blair approached the group. When he was close enough, he threw his arms around the neck of his Companion, burying his face in the warm soft neck seeking comfort.

Jim watched and waited until Blair had let go of all the emotions forced to the surface by the Council of Healers. Jim could feel the fear and the sadness emanating from Blair's torn soul.

Incacha spoke to Jim. "He cannot shield himself from you. Nor can you shield yourself from him. This is the way it was meant to be. Speak to him. He needs to hear what is in your heart. He needs to know that he still has a purpose, that he is not lost and alone as he now believes."

Jim reached out his hand to Blair's shoulder. "Blair, I know what's happened. I know what the Council has done to you and we will talk about it, but not right now. Just know this. You are not alone. You have Burton and you have Incacha and me. We're a team. I know there isn't any problem we can't solve if we stick together."

Jim looked down at the bundle of whites in his hand and almost stopped there. He wasn't sure Blair was ready for this. But he didn't stop. He could feel that Blair was calming down, and listening to him, even though Blair hadn't turned his face from his Companion.

"I wish I didn't have to ask this of you right now, but I don't have a choice. WE don't have a choice. We have been summoned to appear before the court in half a candlemark. Both our names appear on the summons. The Dean of the Herald's Collegium delivered the message in person after you left, along with the two bundles of whites. This set is meant for you."

Jim gently rubbed one of his hands across Blair's shoulders and down his back, while awaiting Blair's response. After a moment's hesitation, Blair reached for the bundle in Jim's hand. "I understand. It's OK, Jim. I'm OK. We can do this, just let me get changed. I'll use the tack room over there. Be right back."

Jim watched as Blair headed for the tack room. His shoulders were hunched and his head was down. Jim whispered, "You're not OK, buddy. But you will be, I'll see to that."

Jim felt the feathery mind-touch of his Companion, "Burton says to tell you, thanks."

Half a candlemark later, Jim and Blair found themselves standing in the antechamber to the throne room. Blair was very nervous. He had never been this close to the Queen. Jim remembered how he felt when he had met the Queen for the first time six months ago.

"Relax, Blair. She's very nice. Just think of her as another Herald. That's how she will see you."

"I'm trying, Jim." Blair replied, taking a deep breath. Eyeing his friend, he continued, "Remember to keep the wheels turned down. There are going to be a lot of people in there. Most of these nobles don't realize that a bottle of perfume is supposed to last longer than one application."

"I've got it under control. You'll be the first to know, if I start having a problem. I give you my word."

A voice from behind the two men interrupted. "Jim, admitting that he has a problem. It will never happen."

Jim turned and smiled at the man standing behind them. "Blair, this is the Lord Marshall, Simon Banks."

Blair turned and shakily offered his hand to the Lord Marshall. "Nice to meet you, Sir."

Simon reached out and took Blair's hand. "The pleasure is mine, Herald Blair. Please, call me Simon when we aren't in a formal situation."

Blair nodded, a large smile brightening his face. "It's just Blair, Simon."

"Why are we here, Simon?" Jim asked. "The summons was not very informative."

"Word has spread very quickly through the court of where you were and what you were doing. The City's Council has demanded that your report be given to the entire Council instead of just the Queen and her advisors."

"Simon, we still have not determined who the spies are within the court. We both know that there are several traitors in our midst."

"That can't be helped. The Queen has agreed to the Council's demand."

Just then, Jim and Blair were announced to the court. The doors opened and the two men entered the throne room. Jim and Blair approached the throne and kneeled before their Queen.

"Your Majesty, I have the information we were seeking."

"Please give your report, Herald James." The Queen ordered.

"As we feared, the Dark Army is gathering on our northern border. I judge that we only have only one-maybe two months at the outside before the invasion begins. I'm very sorry, but we must prepare for war. The enemy numbers over several thousand strong and they were awaiting the arrival of more allies. I only saw one mage, but I heard tell that the coven of mages number seven." Jim paused.

Blair noticed that one of the nobles on their left had started sweating profusely. As Blair stared at him, he realized that the man was shielded, but he was not gifted. That was very unusual. There was no need for someone without gifts to be shielded. Blair had seen the noble in court before, his name was Lord Daniel Freeman. He was actually the noble Blair had been referring to about not knowing how much cologne to use in one application. Someone else must have placed the shield upon him to hide something. Something was very wrong here. Blair tried to inconspicuously move a little closer to the noble.

"What about the other rumor you were sent to investigate?" asked the Queen.

"I'm afraid that one is also been confirmed as true. There are traitors among us. They know too much about our Court and our noblemen."

"Were you able to discover any of their identities?"

Before Jim could answer, the noble that had attracted Blair's attention drew his dagger and lunged towards Jim. Blair saw that Jim would not be able to defend himself in time. He stepped in front of the attacking nobleman, reaching for the blade. Jim watched in horror as the man overpowered Blair and thrust the blade deeply into Blair's chest. Two of the Royal Guards grabbed the attacker. Jim caught Blair under the arms before he could hit the floor. Lowering his friend gently into a tight embrace, Jim put pressure on the wound to lessen the bleeding.

"Blair! Lie still. Don't try to move," Jim said as he lowered them both to the floor.

Blair looked deep into Jim's eyes seeking comfort for the pain that left him unable to speak. Jim examined the wound. The blade was deeply embedded in Blair's shoulder. He couldn't attempt to remove it until a healer was there to repair the damage as it was removed.

"Somebody fetch the palace healer!"

"Hold on, Blair. Help is on the way," Jim encouraged as the pool of blood was spreading rapidly around them. The Lord Marshall knelt down beside them, gently slipping a cushion beneath Blair's head.

Blair nodded weakly before closing his eyes. He thought he didn't have much time left, but then he felt strength being channeled to him first from Burton, then more from both Jim and Incacha. He sensed the arrival of the Palace healer who immediately started to supply the healing energy as he lost consciousness.

Joel stood before the Circle, ready to report what he had discovered. The earlier meeting with the Heraldic Circle about Jim and Blair had been postponed due to the demand of the Court for the public report of Jim's mission. Even though Blair hadn't awakened yet, decisions had to be made.

"As everyone would expect, Blair's strongest gift is that of mind-healing, though his gift of empathy is almost as strong. In slightly lesser strength is his healing gift. But Blair also has a channel of a gift that I do not recognize. I have never seen this channel in any other of the Chosen. Academically, he is at the same level as most of the other Heralds. During his years at the Healer Collegium, he took every class possible. However, in two areas he is dangerously deficient, self-defense and equitation.

In the case of James, his strongest gift is also a channel I have not seen in other Chosen. But, I believe that it is the cause of his heightened senses. He is also showing signs of having minor gifts in Foresight and Thought sensing. Academically, James' formal educational background isn't as diverse as Blair's, mostly concentrated in the arts of war, tactics and defense, not much in the way of diplomacy or court politics. In the short term, this will not be a problem, but we must take the long term into consideration."

Joel paused, looking at the faces of his fellow Heralds. "I don't fully understand it, but I sense a bond growing between these two men. The Companions have all said that it will take these two men working together to defeat the Darkness. The Queen has already ordered the mobilization of the Royal Guard and all available Heralds to head north by the end of next week. I would recommend that Jim and Blair be included in this duty, assuming that Blair is fit by then. With Blair's lack of self-defense training, I would request that two other Heralds be assigned to them as both trainers and as additional protection. Heralds Brian Rafe and Henri Brown have already volunteered for this duty. Lastly, I would suggest they be assigned the suite at the top of the tower in the Herald's wing. Jim doesn't yet have complete control of his senses all of the time. The farther away they are kept from the large concentration people in the court, the better off he will be."

Joel sat down and awaited the vote of the Circle. He didn't have long to wait. There was no disagreement with any of his suggestions. They needed every advantage they could get. Now the plan for the war would have to be discussed. It was going to be a long night.

Elsewhere in the Palace

Four hooded persons stood round a large mirror, two of them in green robes, two in black. In the mirror, looking back at them, was the face of pure evil. Right now, the face was extremely angry. "You have failed me. First, by losing control of the Empath. Second, by failing to destroy the Sentinel. This is your last chance. Do not fail me again. These two together are very powerful. They threaten the Grand Plan. Kill the Sentinel and bring the Empath to me." The face faded away and the mirror went black.

"Well, now what are we going to do," asked a female voice.

The Queen's Library

Jim sat next to Blair's bed. The healer wouldn't allow Blair to be moved very far after the attack. It had been too dangerous to his health. While the wound itself was closed, he had lost a great deal of blood. At the Queen's order a bed had been placed into the Queen's library adjoining the Throne Room. The attack had occurred two days ago, and though much improved, Blair hadn't yet awakened. Between the shock of being expelled from the Healer's Collegium and the trauma of the injury, he lingered in a semi-conscious state.

Jim found himself praying. He couldn't remember the last time he had prayed. Jim believed that praying meant asking someone else for help. Jim had never asked anyone for help before. Not since his mother had left him as a small boy. Not since he had fled in anger from the abuse on his father's estate. Not during his early days in the guard, when as a result of his young age, his lack of size and strength had made him a target of the bullies in the group. Not even when he had been captured in the Forest of Sorrows, believing he would die failing in his mission. But James could pray now, partly because he wasn't asking help for himself. He was asking it for his young friend, his guide, who had given up everything to remain at Jim's side. Mostly, he could ask because he had learned that there was no shame in needing help.

Jim took Blair's hand in his. Gently, he allowed his fingers to encircle Blair's. Jim hadn't left Blair's side since the attack. He was exhausted, but he couldn't let Blair wake up alone. Not with all that had happened at the Healer's Council. Blair had already felt isolated after the shunning. Jim couldn't stand the idea of Blair waking without a familiar and friendly face present. As he was dropping of to sleep, he felt Blair's fingers flex within his light grasp.

"Blair?" He questioned, not sure whether the fingers had actually moved or if it was just wishful thinking on his part.

A faint sound rose from the bed where Blair lay. His left arm was immobilized in a sling. The knife had missed his heart, but it had done serious damage to his shoulder. His face appeared so very pale against the blue bedclothes. Slowly, his head turned and his dazed eyes opened. Blair was dizzy with the pain from the wound. Though he knew he was lying flat on his back, the room appeared to be spinning around him.

"Blair, can you hear me?" Asked Jim standing over Blair.

Blair blinked his eyes twice, as if he wasn't sure whether he was awake or still dreaming.

"Jim," he uttered faintly. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Blair. You protected me, kept me safe. You rest now. Go back to sleep. When you're feeling better, I'll take you home." Jim smiled at his friend as he tucked the blankets a little closer to Blair's still form.

"Home, I don't know where that is anymore," Blair answered softly, a single tear running down his cheek.

Jim reached out, gently wiped the tear away and then answered the fear he saw in his friend's eyes. "Your home is with me, Blair. They have arranged for us to share one of the suites in the Herald's tower. We're going to be far enough from the main population, that I shouldn't have too many problems." Jim paused for a moment, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I don't know where this Sentinel deal is going to take us. But wherever it leads, we'll go together. But first you need to get your strength back."

"Home," whispered Blair with a sweet smile, as he closed his eyes and started to fall back asleep. "I have a home now."

"Always, Blair." Jim answered with a hushed tone. "You'll always have a home with me."

Each time Blair awoke that day, Jim was right by his side. Making sure that he was warm enough, or giving him something to eat or drink. Although Blair felt better each time he opened his eyes, he saw that Jim was looking a little worse.

Early that afternoon, he woke to hear Jim arguing with two other Heralds. Blair didn't recognize either of them. The taller of the two was about the same size as Jim only dark-skinned. The other was just under six-foot tall with brown eyes and short brown hair.

They were trying to convince Jim to take a break. He was refusing, loudly, actually, very loudly. When the voices became louder enough for the entire city of Haven to hear the discussion, Blair decided to enter the fray. "Jim, I'll be okay for a while without you. Go take a shower, shave, get something to eat. I promise not to go anywhere without you."

Jim looked like he was going to be stubborn, then the smaller of the two Heralds promised he would stay. Blair watched as the other Herald escorted Jim from the room. Relieved, Blair closed his eyes.

He opened them when the Herald started to speak. "My name is Rafe. Do you need anything?"

Blair shook his head.

"Okay, let me know if you do. I'll be right here until Jim comes back. Why don't you try to sleep again. Don't worry about your partner. Henri will take good care of him."

Blair mumbled his thanks before drifting off to sleep again.

The healer came to check on him that evening. He was pleased by the progress Blair was making under Jim's watchful eye. He indicated that Blair would be ready to return to his own quarters the following day.

Blair paused for a moment at the second landing on the staircase. He needed to catch his breath. It had been four days since the attack in the throne room. The Palace healer had finally granted permission for him to move from the library into his own quarters. Blair knew that he was still slightly pale, but he felt much better, at least physically. Emotionally, he still had a lot of issues to resolve in his own mind, the attack and the end of his healer-trainee status. He hadn't had the energy to deal with those incidents yet. Mentally, well, Jim was driving him absolutely crazy. It was like he was a mother hen and Blair was his newborn chick.

Okay, Blair admitted to himself, it had been a close call. Frankly, he hadn't minded the protective attitude that Jim had taken, at first. Blair remembered feeling very isolated when he had been living at the Healer Collegium. Jim had rapidly become the big brother that he had wished for as a child. Growing up in the caravan had been wonderful, but very lonely. Now, the overprotectiveness was wearing a little thin. At least Jim hadn't volunteered to carry him up these stairs. That would have been the last straw. Blair resumed his trek up the winding staircase, trying not to be too obvious about the necessity of leaning on the railing.

"Just a one more flight of stairs. We've almost made it, buddy," Jim called encouragingly from behind him. Jim was staying a few stairs behind, just in case Blair lost his balance.

"Cluck, Cluck," muttered Blair under his breath.

"What was that? I didn't understand what you said," Jim asked, knowing exactly what Blair had uttered. He knew that he had been hovering lately, but it was hard to stop. He also wanted to see what Blair would say.

"I started to say that we are going to be in really good shape after a few months of living in this tower," Blair answered, with a blush, not really wanting to explain the original comment.

Jim let Blair slide with a wide grin. "Yeah, it will also be pretty quiet. No noisy neighbors and very few visitors are just going to be dropping by if they have to climb this many stairs, but the view is worth it," Jim added as they reached the final landing. Jim took an extra couple of steps so that he could get in front of Blair.

"This is it, our new home." Jim reached for the doorknob before Blair.

Jim opened the door to their suite and turned so that he could watch Blair's face when he saw their new home. Simon had laughed at Jim's 'frog' imitation when he had seen it for the first time the day before. Before the new palace had been built, this section of the tower had housed foreign dignitaries and ambassadors. All the original opulent furnishings were still in place. Much nicer than the barracks where Jim had lived for almost half his life and the dormitory where Blair had spent most of the last few years.

Blair's reaction was similar. His mouth opening and closing without issuing a single noise, much less an entire word. Jim chuckled, "Come my little guppy, let's check out the new homestead."

Blair was still silent as he entered the suite. After spending the last five years in the dorm, this suite seemed like heaven. In front of him, there was a large living area. This area was designed so that the resident ambassador could hold private informal meetings. On the far side was a large fireplace, which would keep the room nice and warm even in the coldest of winter. There were several shuttered windows and a clear glass skylight. On cloudless nights, they could stargaze from the comfort of their living room.

On his right was the privy area. Inside was a large bathtub, which was supplied like the rest of the palace, with running hot and cold water from large cisterns on the roof. Blair was very fond of nice long hot baths. He found them to be very relaxing and very hard to come by when he had lived in the dormitory.

Blair investigated the small alcove that led to the bedrooms on his left. The bedroom closest to the living area was smaller than the one in the back. Most ambassadors traveled with a secretary or an assistant. Someone wishing to speak to the ambassador had to get past his assistant first.

He vaguely heard Jim saying something about taking the front bedroom, giving Blair the more defensible back bedroom but he really wasn't playing close attention. He couldn't take his eyes off the wall in front of him, the wall that was lined with bookcases. Almost all the shelves were already full. As Blair examined the notebooks, scrolls and books on the shelves he realized that most of them were his, from his days as a healer-trainee.

Amazed and grateful, he looked to Jim, unable to find the words to ask how all this had happened.

Jim saw the question in his eyes and answered it unasked. "Joel arranged it. Common curtsey dictated that they were yours to take with you in the first place. When Joel learned that you removed nothing from your former dorm room, he went with a couple of Heralds to collect your stuff. When Dean Edwards tried to stop them, he told her and this is a direct quote, "this is the property of Herald Blair Sandburg. First, the request from the Queen, then his injuries, have prevented him from removing them himself. His colleagues in the Circle are more than happy to assist him during his time of trouble."

"I don't know what to say," Blair whispered as he lovingly touched several of the handwritten scrolls. "I thought I had lost all this."

"Just say thank you to Joel, Brian and Henri when you see them. Joel is the Dean of the Herald Collegium. Brian and Henri are the two Heralds who helped him move your stuff. I've gotten to know them pretty well over the last couple of days. They were nice enough to bring me food and fresh clothes while I was waiting for you to wake up. They also kept me company when I needed it. I'm pretty sure they had help from Incacha with knowing when it was necessary. Their timing was just way too good for it to be random chance."

"Just a little," Jim heard from Incacha as she made her presence known.

Grabbing the opportunity to tease his Companion a little, Jim said, "You know, Blair, I think Companions gossip more than the women of the court."

"We do not," Incacha answered indignantly.

"Just the female Companions," Blair heard as Burton put in his two cents.

Once Jim got his laughter under control he continued, "You'll get to know them very well over the next several weeks. Henri is going to be working with you on your riding skills. Brian will start to teach you some basic self-defense moves. Actually, we're supposed to be meeting the two of them for lunch at the noon bell. Are you feeling up to it?

Blair nodded, absently. None of this seemed real to him. He felt that at any moment he would wake up in the library, the dream ending, and he would discover that this place had been induced by the pain medication the healer had forced on him.

Jim was also caught up in his own chaotic thoughts, though his were more in the nature of nightmares. The hours after the attack had been just that. He had refused to leave Blair's side, determined not to allow any other harm to befall Blair. He had even challenged the palace healer. The poor man had to work around him as Jim stared at everything he did making him all the more nervous. Joel had come to him in the library after the Circle had met. He had wanted Jim to move his stuff over to the Collegium, but Jim had made it very clear that he wasn't going to leave Blair alone while he was still unconscious. Joel had to make arrangements with Simon to have Jim's property moved by several of his comrades in the Guard.

Then Joel had made the mistake of asking the location of Blair's belongings. Jim, his anger clearly visible, had relayed what he knew, but his ire was nothing compared to the wrath Joel had expressed when he heard what Dean Edwards had done. Joel had said right then that he personally would arrange to have Blair's property transferred to his new room.

Jim chucked aloud as he recalled the absolute glee on Joel's face when he had told the story about the confrontation he had with Dean Edwards to Jim.

Blair stared at him, puzzled by the sudden laughter.

"Joel really enjoyed verbally putting Dean Edwards in her place. Personally, I would have put her into the ground. It was good that Joel handled that particular situation. The Circle was deeply angered by the attitude of the Healer Council. No one understands why they responded as they did."

"Jim, just how did you and everyone else know what the Council had done? I didn't have the chance to tell you and none of the Council members are allowed to say anything about what happens during the meetings. So, how did you find out?"

"I'm not sure I can explain it or if I completely understand what happened myself." Eyeing Blair's face, he realized that answer wasn't going to be enough for Blair. "But, I'll try. After you left the Grove, I followed you. I had a really bad feeling about what was happening. I met up with Joel who told me about the summons from the Queen. When I asked him about the meeting the healers were having, he didn't know anything about it. He was the one who suggested that I find Burton."

"So, Burton told you what happened."

"Yes, no, well, sort of," Jim answered slowly, trying to find the words to explain.

"Sort of, well, that clears everything right up, thanks," Blair said with a smile.

"I'm trying, but it's really difficult to explain what I don't completely understand myself. Anyway, Burton was standing by the fence. I asked him if he knew what was happening to you. Incacha relayed his answer, but things got a little strange after that."

"How strange?"

"When I touched Burton, I saw all these images and felt different emotions in my head. I think I was seeing what you were seeing. But that's not all. In addition, I think I was also seeing some of your memories and all the emotions associated with them. It was amazing and powerful, a little more than I could handle. I actually blacked out for a moment."

"I'm sorry," Blair answered quickly as he remembered what had happened in the Council room and the direction his thoughts had led him while standing in the dorm room.

"Why, you have nothing to be sorry about?"

"I must have been projecting. I haven't done that since I was an apprentice. I'm supposed to be better trained than that. Besides, you shouldn't have to deal with my emotional problems."

"Why not? You have to deal with mine. Besides, I don't think you were actively projecting like a broadcast. I think it's a private channel between the two of us or maybe I should say the four of us. We both have been sending and receiving each other's thoughts and emotions. Incacha said something to me after your meeting with the healers about the two of us not being able to shield our thoughts and emotions from each other."

Blair looked thoughtful for a moment, reviewing what he had been experiencing for the past few days. "Well, that would explain what I felt in the dorm room that day. Just for a moment, I felt really angry and I didn't know why. But, that wasn't my anger, it was yours. Burton said something similar when he Chose me. He said something about the bonds among the four of us. That's probably why what you experienced was so strong after touching Burton. This makes things a lot clearer. Man, I've got to write this down. I've never heard of this happening before. I wish I still had access to the Healer's library. They have lots of case studies on file," Blair said, oblivious to the pain on Jim's face at the last sentence.

"They shouldn't have kicked you out. You didn't do anything wrong."

"I'm not sorry for the decision I made. I know it was the right one," Blair answered, as he was searching for something to write on.

Jim nodded, still bothered by the fact that the decision had ever had to be made.

"Why don't you go check out your room. We put the more personal looking papers in there. We tried to keep everything the same way you had it, but you might want to do some rearranging. We couldn't quite figure out the logic behind your organizational system, so things may be in the wrong place."

"That's because there isn't any logic involved in my file system," Blair quipped.

"Well, that explains a lot."

"Thanks, Jim. I'll take a look." Blair headed for his room. Jim could hear papers rustling for almost half a candle mark. Then, there was complete silence. Concerned, he peeked through the doorway into the room. Lying on the bed was Blair, fast asleep, surrounded by numerous scrolls and papers. Picking up all the scrolls, he placed them safely on the desk. Jim reached for the blanket at the foot of the bed and covered the sleeping man. "Rest easy, my friend," Jim whispered, reaching out one hand to move a lock of hair that had fallen over Blair's eyes. "Something tells me things are about to get really interesting around here."

Blair woke from a sound sleep, unsure for a moment of where he was. Looking around, he recognized his new room and moved out from under the blanket. He shook his head, smiling to himself at the thought that Jim had tucked him in like his mother had done when he was a child. He went out to the living area, looking for him. Instead, he found, propped on the table, a note along with several sandwiches and coffee.

Blair,
I went to lunch without you. Since you were sleeping so soundly, I figured you needed the rest. If you wake up before two, meet Brian, Henri and me in the salle. Eat something first. If you don't make it, I'll be back before four.
Jim

Blair quickly ate the sandwiches and headed for the salle. It was only a little after two. As he entered the building, he could hear the clashing of swords. Watching from the doorway, he saw Jim sparring with another Herald. Leaning against the wall was a second Herald observing the match. Jim called for a halt the instant Blair entered the doorway.

"Come on over," Jim yelled, waving to Blair. Once Blair was standing next to him, Jim introduced the other two Heralds.

"Blair, the man trying to take my head off is Henri Brown and the guy holding up the wall over there is Brian Rafe."

"Nice to meet you both," Blair greeted, "Jim's told me a lot about both of you. Thanks for moving my stuff for me."

"No problem," responded Brian. "You're looking much better."

"I'm feeling pretty good."

"So, I assume you're ready to get to work," Henri said as he slapped Blair on the back.

"Depends on what you have in mind."

"Nothing today, tomorrow morning is soon enough," Brian interjected before Henri could respond. "Henri will get you started on the obstacle course. First thing in the morning meet him at Companion's Field with your Companion.

"I'm glad you added Burton to that. I suddenly had this vision of me jumping over the fences. It wasn't a very pretty image."

Brian laughed then continued, "Meet me here tomorrow afternoon, I'll see what your basic fighting skills are."

"I can't fight offensively. My gifts get in the way. I've tried to before," Blair offered, tentatively.

"I know, that's a common problem for those gifted with Empathy. We're gonna work on self- defense first. A couple of simple throws, how to break holds, things like that, strictly defensive. At the same time, I'll also be teaching you how to redirect you gift. The healers never had to teach you those techniques because, as a healer, that wasn't something you needed to be able to do. As a Herald, that particular trick will be essential. With your gift directed away from your mind, you'll be able to take the offensive during a fight if you need to. In the meantime, let's watch my partner beat up on your partner."

"I don't think so. My money's on Jim," Blair said with a laugh.

"Put up or shut up, Herald Blair," Brian challenged.

"How much can you afford to lose, Herald Brian?" Blair retorted, his eyes sparkling with a slightly evil glint.

Jim winked at Blair, and resumed sparring with Henri.

Blair didn't know much about swordplay. But even he could recognize two talented swordsmen. Both men were very good. They were going at each other full speed. A very dangerous thing to do even with the protective guards on the blade edge. Jim was a little quicker than Henri, which gave him the advantage during the match. After Jim disarmed Henri for the third time, he was ready for a break. "Hey guys, why don't we break for dinner. I'm starved."

After a quick wash and change of clothes, the four men headed to the dining hall. They quickly found a table. Rafe and Henri spent a lot of dinner laughing at the antics of the other two men. Jim was constantly sneaking food onto Blair's plate. Blair was so busy telling more stories that he didn't notice until Jim's third attempt.

"Jim, what are you doing?" Blair said half laughing at the silly look on his friend's face when he was caught.

"Chief, you are so thin, I can almost see through you. You need to eat more. Get your strength back," Jim answered as he slipped a little more meat onto Blair's plate.

"Hey, Jim. Are you going to eat anything besides those meat and potatoes? How about adding some vegetables to that plate of yours? Didn't anyone explain the concept of a balance diet to you before?"

"Did you guys hear what happened to the noble that tried to kill Blair?" Brian asked. Noting the negative head shakes from around the table he continued. "The Lord Marshall had him locked away, but before he could be questioned, something killed him."

"Don't you mean someone?" asked Blair.

"No, this was definitely a something. The guy was torn to shreds, literally. Pieces of the body were everywhere. The two men who were guarding him say they didn't see what had attacked him. They were even questioned under the truth-spell. All they heard was the man screaming. By the time the Lord Marshall got the door open, he was already dead. There was only a minute or two between when they heard the last scream versus when they got the door opened. Nothing got out past them and they didn't see anything in the cell when they opened the door. It had to have been some type of magical construct. The enemy consumed a lot of magical energy making sure that our prisoner didn't tell us anything."

"So that's why the security has been increased around the Palace," added Henri. "That would be an easy way to assassinate the Queen and throw the court into complete chaos."

As the men started eating, Blair and Jim exchanged worried glances. Whoever the enemy was, he was well informed, very powerful and still completely unknown. Without knowing who the enemy was, they were not any closer to stopping him.

For the next three days, Blair followed a strict schedule. During the mornings, he worked on his riding skills with Henri. He was getting quite good at riding. Burton had a very smooth and even gait and Blair had a good sense of balance. While they didn't have the best time on the obstacle course, it was among the top scores.

Afternoons were spent working out with Brian in the salle on the self-defense techniques. Blair was very frustrated with these lessons. They were not going as well as the riding lessons. Brian had been trying to teach him several flips and holds, but Blair couldn't seem to get the hang of it. He had spent most of this session on the floor, flat on his back, looking up at the ceiling, which was the exact position he was in right now. It didn't help matters that Jim and Henri were working out together on the other side of the room. Spectators to my complete humiliation, thought Blair.

"Are you OK, Blair?" Brian asked, concerned that Blair hadn't moved after the last flip.

"Fine, just noticing that the ceiling needs a new coat of paint," Blair answered, still not moving from his prone position on the floor.

"Well, are you going to get up soon?" Brian asked firmly, crossing his arms and raising one eyebrow.

"No, I've decided since I'm just going to wind up right here in the next couple of minutes anyway, I'll save you the trouble of throwing me back down here," Blair explained, disgusted by his inability to master this particular lesson.

"Come on, Blair. Don't get discouraged. You're getting the hang of it. It just takes time to learn all the responses to different types of attacks. Right now, you are your own worst enemy. You're trying to out muscle me. I've got the advantage of both height and strength. It will never work. You've got to use your opponent's size and strength against them."

Jim, noting that Blair was continuing to lie on the floor stopped his match with Henri to watch what was going on between Blair and Brian.

"How?" Blair questioned, frustrated by his lack of success.

"Bend, appear to weaken, then use your quickness to turn the tables on them." Blair shook his head, not understanding what Brian was trying to say. Brian, watching the various expressions crossing Blair's face realized that he wasn't getting anywhere. He decided it was better to end the session for the afternoon. "Look, I think we both have had enough for today. Let's pick up where we left off tomorrow. Okay?"

Blair nodded in agreement. Brian headed for the doorway, followed soon after by Henri. Jim put away his equipment and walked over to where Blair was now sitting on the floor, his arms resting on his knees.

"Need a hand up?"

"Nah, why don't you get going. I'll catch up with you later for dinner."

Jim lowered himself to the floor, settling next to Blair. "What's the problem?"

"Haven't you been watching? I think the problem is pretty obvious. I suck at this and I'm going to get both of us killed," Blair answered, his voice getting louder with every word, his frustration evident in his tone.

"That's not true. I've been watching. You're just trying too hard. Don't try to use the same style of fighting as Henri and I. Brian's right. You're not going to be able to fight hand to hand with someone my size, but you don't have to. I've seen you. You're wiry and you're quick. You can also outwit practically everyone on the Palace grounds. Those are your strengths. Start using them. Instead of locking your feet in one place, put your weight on the balls of your feet. When you opponent charges you, let his momentum work to your advantage. Duck out of the way. Trip him, if you can. Don't fight fair. Fight with every dirty move you know. You're not here to learn how to become a great warrior. You're here to learn how to survive an ambush, a sneak attack or an assassination attempt. Your goal here is to stay alive and escape."

"What makes you believe that quickness and brains can beat brute strength?"

"I didn't always have this size and strength. You should have seen me when I first joined the guard. I was the smallest new recruit they've ever had, a lot smaller than you are now. I was also probably the youngest recruit they've ever had at age fifteen."

"I thought you had to be eighteen to join the guard," Blair asked, noticeably relaxing as he was now nicely distracted from his own problems.

"Normally, you do. If it hadn't have been for Simon, I wouldn't have gotten in."

"Lord Marshall Simon Banks, that Simon?"

"Yeah, but then he was only a captain. He knew my father very well. He had been to my father's estate many times on patrol. He had dinner with the family whenever he was close enough. He and my father had served together in the guard. Simon took an interest in me even back then. I'm not sure why."

"He knew you were underage and let you in anyway," Blair asked, slightly stunned by this discovery.

"He vouched for me with the Sergeant. When I showed up looking to join, he told the Sergeant that I could ride anything with four legs and would be a good messenger. He saw what life was like for me at home. He knew I'd be safer in the guard."

"How could you possibly be safer in the guard?"

"It's a long story."

"Well, I don't have anything else planned for tonight. Tell me. I really want to understand," Blair stretched out his legs, getting as comfortable as he could on the hard wood floor.

Jim was very tense as he started the story. "My father is Lord William Ellison. I was his eldest son, his heir and his biggest disappointment. I have a younger brother, Steven. My father was very hard on the both of us. We felt the back of his hand more than once as children, but when I turned twelve things really started to go bad, more for me than Steven. On my twelfth birthday, my father told me it was time I started taking responsibility as his heir. I was to inspect all the holdings on the estate and collect the harvest tax with him. The family priest, Father Brackett, also accompanied us. He recorded all the pertinent information for the Queen's tax collector.

It had been a bad year. A drought during the summer had ruined half of the harvest. Several of the families were hit very hard by the drought. My best friend Matty, and his family, had been hurt the worst. They couldn't afford to pay their harvest tax. Three times before on that trip, when a holder couldn't pay the taxes, my father had offered the alternative of taking the eldest son into an indenture agreement for one year. But this time, Father Brackett suggested taking Matty's twin sister Cassie into service. I didn't like the way he was looking at her. So, before my father could answer, I spoke the words that accepted Matty into my father's service for the coming year. There wasn't any way for father to retract the words once I had spoken them. Father Brackett had never really liked me, but after that he hated the very sight of me."

"What did you do to cause a priest to dislike you?" asked Blair, hoping to hear tales of a wild childhood.

"He was responsible for teaching all the children on the estate. I asked a lot of questions in class, and I didn't always agree with his answers."

"Knowing you, you probably disagreed loudly and in public, right Jim?"

"Yeah," answered Jim sheepishly before continuing with the story.

"After the first couple of months that Matty served in the manor, I caught him sneaking out of the servant quarters at night. None of the servants were allowed to leave the house without permission. That was one of my father's house rules. The next day, I cornered him and demanded an explanation. That was when he told me that his family's holding wouldn't make it without his help. His father had become ill. His mother wasn't strong enough to farm the land by herself, even with his sister's help, so I let him go. I didn't know that Father Brackett had overheard us talking. He went to my father and told him the whole story. The next day Father Brackett whipped Matty as his punishment with the other servants and my family watching. My father held me equally responsible, but handled my punishment himself in private."

"I saw the scars, in the Grove that first day. I wondered how you got them." Blair spoke calmly, though that wasn't how he was feeling.

"That was only the first time I was whipped. There were several other occasions. Matty was still determined to help his family. So I helped him the best way I knew. I arranged it so that on seventh day, he had messenger duty. I took half the messages, he took the other half. When we were both done, we'd meet at his family's holding and spend the rest of the day helping out there. I loved spending time with his family. My own mother left my father when I was very young. I don't really remember her. Matty's mom always made me feel at home. We got away with it for several weeks before Father Brackett figured out something was going on and had us followed. This time, Matty was safe from punishment. He had done his duty and he had tacit permission to be on his family's holding since I was with him."

"But you weren't safe, were you?" Blair asked softly, afraid to hear the answer.

Jim shook his head. "No, this time Father Brackett got his fondest desire. He was the one who punished me. As my father lectured me on how it was wrong to help the weak, he got to wield the whip. My father believed that nature only allowed the strongest to survive and I was going against nature by helping others. He sent Matty away after that, to serve with one of the guard units on the border. I never saw him again. He was killed." Jim's voice faded away as he become lost in the memories of that day.

"This isn't the end of the story, is it?" Blair was sure it wasn't, but voiced the question anyway.

"No, but how about I finish this after dinner. I'd like to be sitting comfortably at home, preferably with a beer in my hand when I finish telling you this story."

"Sounds good. Let's head back to our quarters, I really need to change. I don't think there is one inch of the floor that my uniform hasn't swept clean. We can grab a quick dinner in the dining hall at the Collegium."

Jim's mood still somber, nodded in agreement. "Let's go."

There almost wasn't any room left when Jim and Blair got to the dining hall. In addition to all the students, it looked like all the Heralds who were supposed to be riding their circuits were here. Jim nudged Blair's arm. Pointing to a table over by the windows, "It looks like Brian and Henri saved us a couple of seats. Come on, follow me."

Jim and Blair wove their way through the occupied tables until they reached the table where their friends were seated.

"Hi guys, where did all these Heralds come from?" Blair asked.

"All the Heralds are being recalled from their circuits. Everyone is getting assigned to a guard unit to act as a coordinator during the battles when we go north. The Lord Marshall has already left with the first couple of guards units and a group of Heralds," explained Brian.

The meat platters were now circulating through the hall. Henri passed the plate to Jim, "Here Jim, eat up, you're going to need your strength. Tomorrow, I'm finally going to beat you. I can feel it."

"It's not going to happen," Jim laughed in response, as he handed the vegetables over to Blair.

"Wanna bet on that?" Rafe asked.

"Sure, you still haven't paid up from last time," Blair replied.

"Let it ride?" Rafe suggested.

"Deal!"

The conversation at the table remained light as the men started eating. Just after they finished, Joel walked over to their table. "Good evening gentlemen, how are you doing tonight?"

Each man answered, the general response being fine.

"I'm glad to find you all here together. You have saved me the trouble of having to track you down individually. As you probably all ready know, the first units have already left for the Forest of Sorrows. I'd like the four of you to leave the day after tomorrow. Since you all will be riding Companions, you should be able to catch up with the Lord Marshall before he reaches the forest. Jim, Simon requested that you meet with him as soon as you catch up with them. You're the only one with any recent knowledge and experience with the area. I suspect that will be very important in the coming days. Good luck gentlemen, I'll be riding north with the Queen at the end of the week. I seen you then." Joel nodded to each man and left the table.

"Well, I guess that's it," voiced Blair, turning several shades whiter at the news and his thought that he was not ready for this. It was too soon.

"Yeah, just when I had Jim on the run. Saved by the war, just wait 'til we get back," said Henri as he rose from the table. "Guess we spend tomorrow packing. Let's plan on leaving at dawn, day after tomorrow. We'll meet at the tack shed. If you guys need any help, let us know. You know where we live, Jim."

"Yeah," added Brian. "Blair, don't worry, you're ready. Whether you believe it or not, you are ready. I was the one that told the Dean we were ready to move forward."

Blair nodded, rendered speechless by Brian's admission. Jim reached a hand over and grabbed the back of Blair's neck, rubbing gently. Jim, making sure he had Blair's attention nodded to add his support to Brian's assessment. Blair's eyes raised to meet his gaze, Jim didn't look away until he saw acceptance there.

"Come on, Blair, let's head back to our quarters. I have a story to finish telling you, remember?"

Jim and Blair were walking down the corridor leading to the tower. As they turned the corner, Blair was almost knocked down by two men coming from the other direction. Jim turned angrily towards the two, but the words died on his lips as he recognized them.

Blair quickly regained his balance and stared first at his friend, then at the other two men. He didn't recognize them but Jim obviously did. Both men were much older than himself and Jim. The taller of the two looked familiar to Blair, but he couldn't quite place the man, not until he realized that he looked like Jim. Blair's agile mind quickly supplied the answer. This must be his father. The other man was wearing the robes of a priest, the infamous Father Brackett, Blair concluded. Across the man's cheek was a long ugly scar.

No one said anything. Jim and his father just stared at each other. Finally, the older Ellison turned and walked away, without ever saying a single word. Father Brackett didn't say a word either, but he wasn't staring at Jim. He was staring at Blair, his expression one of hated and contempt. Then he too, turned and walked away.

Blair heard his friend speaking softly. "He disowned me. He doesn't even admit that I'm still alive. He is the representative from our home district on the Council. We've been in the same city for the last three years and he still refuses to acknowledge my existence."

Reaching his hand out, he gently rubbed circles on the small of Jim's back. "Come on, I can hear those beers calling to us from here. Let's go home."

After Jim was seated on the couch in their living quarters, Blair brought him a beer. Sitting down next to him Blair was the first one to speak. "You know, if you don't want to talk about this right now, I'll understand. It has been a pretty difficult afternoon."

"No, that's ok. Besides, you're like a cat. The curiosity would kill you before tomorrow morning. I can't allow that to happen."

Jim took a drink, before he started to talk. "For most of the next two years my father and Father Brackett both watched me like a hawk. If I showed any signs of mercy or kindness towards the holders, I would be punished. I especially stayed away from Matty's family. It was my fault that Matty got killed. I couldn't face them."

Blair didn't interrupt, but he was tempted to do just that. Instead, he put one hand on Jim's knee and shook his head. Jim acknowledged the gesture with a sad little smile but didn't stop talking.

"Sometimes, I think Father Brackett lied to father just to get me in trouble. I spent most of that time with bruises and welts. Nothing I did was good enough. Simon saw what was going on. Well, at least he saw the aftermath. Every time he visited, he always spent some time with me. He taught me most of what I know about battle tactics. He was the one that gave me my first sword and he taught me how to use it. That's how he found out about the beatings. During practice bouts, the pain and stiffness kept me from moving properly, but he couldn't do anything to interfere in my father's affairs. There wasn't anyone on the manor that would interfere or speak on my behalf. I got to the point that I didn't care about anyone else. I just shut down. I put up walls around me so that nobody could reach me. I figured that if I didn't feel anything for anyone, no one could hurt me." The pain and hopelessness in Jim's voice even after all these years hurt Blair to hear. He couldn't imagine anyone who would treat a child as Jim had been treated.

"Jim, you also closed yourself off from the positive emotions as well as the negative." Starting to realize just how deep a wound was being open up, Blair took a drink from his own bottle, contemplating discontinuing this discussion for the evening. As he was swallowing, he heard Burton speak. "He needs to speak of this. It is a burden that must be discarded. He must face the Darkness within before he can fight the Darkness outside."

"I know. I've learned better. Simon taught me that there were people out there I could trust. It just took a little while for it to happen." Jim paused, rolling the now empty bottle in-between the palms of his hands. Jim put the bottle on the table then grabbed another bottle for himself. Blair shook his head when Jim offered him a second drink.

"Back to the tale of my sordid past. I followed my father's instructions to the letter. I tried not to give him any reason to punish me. Just before I turned fifteen, that all changed. I was riding across one of the fields when I heard a female voice screaming. I followed the sound into a small grotto. That's when I saw them. Father Brackett had Cassie pinned to the ground. I had gotten there too late. He had already raped her. He was just refastening his robes when I rode up. I hit him with the riding crop. I was the one who gave him that scar on his face. He ducked away into the forest. I couldn't pursue him. Cassie wasn't moving, I had to make sure she was OK first."

"Oh man, was she all right?"

"Not really. She was shaking and crying. She couldn't speak. I took her home to her parents. Told them what had happened and that I was sorry for not getting there sooner."

"Jim, it wasn't your fault."

"I know that now." Jim paused for a long drink then continued. "I headed back to the estate, to tell my father what had happened, but I was too late. Father Brackett had talked to him first. He had told my father that he was straightening up the temple when I just walked up and hit him. Some story huh, but father believed him as usual. When I told my father my version of the events, he didn't believe me."

"Cassie could have told them the truth."

"She was gone. She and her family had fled the holding. I think they knew what would happen, that Father Brackett would be the one everyone believed and that sooner or later, he would come back for Cassie."

"Do you know what happened to them?" Blair asked solemnly, deeply sadden by the tragedy of a situation long past.

"No, I tried to find them after I left home, but I never succeeded." Jim took another drink from the bottle in his hand before he could continue.

"As Father Brackett wielded the whip, my father kept calling me a liar. He said it wasn't possible for me to have heard her screaming. He wanted me to admit that I had made the whole thing up. He said the only way that the whipping would stop was if I admitted that I had lied."

Jim was so tense by this point, his tightening grip broke the bottle in his hand. Dumbfounded, Jim could only sit there and stare at the broken bottle as a mixture of blood and liquor dripped from his injured hand. Blair quickly grabbed a towel. After first removing the glass that was embedded in Jim's hand, Blair bandaged the injury. As he finished the job, he realized that although he had never wanted to kill anyone before, if William Ellison were standing in front of him right now, Lord or not, he would be dead.

Jim's voice was shaky, but he had to finish this. "At first I refused to say it, but after a while the pain got so bad that I did. I said I made the whole thing up. But that didn't stop it. The last thing I can remember was the sound of Simon's voice. He heard the sound of me screaming and once he saw what was happening, he stopped Father Brackett. He was the one who arranged for me to be taken to the healer in town to take care the injuries. He knew I would be safe at the temple. The healers were not about to allow harm to anyone in their care. There wasn't much my father could do while I was recovering, but I knew what would happen the minute I stepped foot in my father's house. When the healers released me, instead of going home, I went to where Simon's unit was bivouacked. The rest is history.

Burton's words flashed through Blair's head. He has not yet accepted his gifts. He rejected them once before and buried them deep inside. Jim had heard Matty sneaking out of the servants quarters. He had heard Cassie screaming from across a field and a grotto. It all made sense now. "Jim, how did you hear her?"

"I don't know. I never really thought about it. I guess the sound echoed from the sides of the grotto."

Before Blair could say another word, he heard Burton speaking to him. "He's not ready to admit it yet, don't push now. Give him time." Then to his astonishment, he heard what had to be Incacha. "He's never spoken to anyone of these incidents before. Give him time to heal."

"I failed them, Blair. Both Cassie and Matty, I couldn't help them. I should have been able to save them. They were my responsibility. More importantly, they were my friends. I should have done more." Tears were running down Jim's cheeks.

"There was nothing more that you could have done, Jim. Goddess, you weren't much more than a child yourself." Blair reached for Jim, offering whatever comfort he would accept. It didn't take long for the tears to stop and for Jim to fall asleep on the couch. Blair grabbed the pillows and blankets from his bedroom. Gently Blair slipped one of the pillows under Jim's head, then spread the blanket over the sleeping man. Taking the other pillow and blanket, Blair settled down in the chair opposite him. Now it was Blair's turn to watch over his friend through the night.

There was no place else he would rather be.

Elsewhere in the Palace

Three hooded persons stood round a large mirror, two of them in green robes, one in black. In the mirror, looking back at them, was the angry face of Darkness. "Once again, you have failed me. Kill the Sentinel but allow no harm to come to the Empath. I need him alive. Bring him to me." The face faded away and the mirror went black.

"Time for plan B," said the man in black.

The morning sun felt warm on Jim's face as he slowly opened his eyes. He had fallen asleep on the couch. He sat up swinging his legs onto the floor, rubbing his eyes with one hand. Blair was still sleeping, slumped in the chair across from him, looking very uncomfortable. As Jim rose and started to move towards the chair, to return Blair to his own bed, the sound of a sleepy voice stopped him.

"Don't bother with whatever it was you were about to do, I'm up," Blair announced with a groan as he attempted to sit up properly in the chair, his stiff back not exactly cooperative.

Jim had to think about the meaning of that statement for a minute. Blair laughed at the perplexed expression on Jim's face. "How are you feeling this morning, Jim?"

"Better," replied Jim, aware that Blair was asking about his mental state as well as the physical. "It felt good getting that off my chest. I feel like a heavy weight has been lifted off my shoulders."

"Good, it was about time that particular guilt trip came to an end. Jim, you expect way too much of yourself. You can't take responsibility for everyone else's problems, fight everyone else's battles for them."

"But I think that is what she meant by what she said in the Grove."

Now it was Blair's turn to puzzle out what Jim had just said. "Huh, who's the she that said what?"

Jim rolled his eyes, then replied, "You know, Blair, we shouldn't have these conversations until we have both have had a least one-cup of coffee."

Blair laughed and nodded.

"In the Grove, the day after Incacha brought me back, she said that I was not ready to be Chosen when I was young. She said that I learned what I needed to know to become a Herald after I left my father's house. I didn't understand what she m