Embers at Galdrilene (15 page)

She returned to the bowl still sitting on the floor and settled in front of, wanting to see the woman’s face once more. Centering her mind, she again gave the water the command and watched the colors swirl. When it settled, it wasn’t the woman she saw. Instead the face of the young man she’d seen in her vision floated on the surface. Curious, she leaned closer to the bowl and asked it to show her more.

The image drew back and she saw him taking shelter from the rain under a thicket of pine trees, no more than a mile down the road. She recognized the area, even in the dark. She studied him for some time, drawn to him. He would freeze out there. She could easily let him spend the night in the warmth of her home. The hum in her mind urged her to do it. With a sigh, Maleena let the image fade. Young women simply did not ask strange men into their homes.

As darkness fell, though she tried to return to her lace, the man out in the rain continued to distract her. After the third time Maleena caught herself staring off into space, her lace forgotten in her lap, she gave up and set it down.

She pulled her cloak around her shoulders and slipped her feet into sturdy, leather boots. Lighting a lantern, she closed the shutters just enough so the wind wouldn’t extinguish the flame, then slipped out the door into the storm. She thought briefly of riding, but dismissed the idea. There was no point in rousting the poor mare from the snug barn and dragging her out in the rain on a fool’s errand.

The wind worked icy fingers under her cloak, making her shiver. Why did a mile seem so much farther in foul weather? The dark made it difficult to judge the distance. She closed her eyes and centered her mind. She could feel him somewhere off the road to her left. Stepping to the edge of the road she held the lantern out, casting its light down at the trees that grew there.

He leaped to his feet and half drew his twin swords. The lantern light barely reached the trees and the weather made it difficult to see, yet she knew it was him. They stared at each other through the rain darkened night for several moments before Maleena broke the silence, “Hello.”

Although she could tell he was still wary, he allowed the curved blades to slide back into their sheaths though his hands remained on the hilts. “Who are you and what do you want?”

“My name is Maleena Wyndam and my farm is only a mile up the road. The fire in the hearth is much warmer than this thicket,” she answered calmly, aware of his thought paths.

His mind and his feelings were open to her, yet not uncomfortably so. It surprised her. Normally she avoided the minds of others. Their feelings, memories, and thoughts bombarded and overwhelmed her. His firm mental blocks guarded the thoughts and memories he didn’t want to share and made his presence comfortable to be in.

His few unguarded thoughts flowed freely into her and she answered them, “No, I don’t routinely go wandering around in the night offering my home to strangers.”

He jerked. “How…what do you want?”

“I want to know if you want a place out of the rain.”

“Why would you care where I take shelter?” he asked, eyeing her with suspicion.

She sighed patiently. He reminded her of a wild animal. “I honestly don’t know why. Sometimes I see things and when I do they are important. I saw you–here.” She studied him a moment. “You can use magic.”

His hands tightened around the hilts of his swords though his face showed none of the turmoil she sensed. “I know nothing about magic.”

“Yes, you do. I can feel it in your mind. I can also feel a presence in your mind, like I have in mine. There are some differences, yet they are alike all the same.”

“How do you stand there so calmly?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Should I be frightened?”

“Yes. I could be a thief or worse. Do you always take such chances?”

“I am calm,” she answered, “because although I can’t see your every thought, I can feel your mind. I would know immediately if you were the type to do me harm.”

“You can read my thoughts?”

“Only on the surface. I can’t touch your mind more than to read your basic intentions and surface thoughts. There is no overflow from you. That’s unusual. You must have incredible control.”

He shifted, his stance uneasy. “You can use magic?”

She smiled. “Yes. Why don’t we start walking while we talk or else we will both freeze to death. Then maybe you will get around to telling me your name.”

He stood in silence for a time before disappearing into the trees. He reemerged a few moments later leading a huge, heavy, black horse behind him. When he gained the road, Maleena almost gaped at him. She’d never seen anyone so tall. He held out his hand. “I’m Mckale Mandarran and this great beast of a horse is Blain. Since you have gone to such great lengths to invite me to your home, I will accept your offer.”

Maleena hesitated and looked up into his eyes. They gleamed silver in the lantern light. Despite her aversion to touching people she found herself reaching out to take his hand. Their hands touched and thousands of thin, luminescent threads flowed out from both of them and reached toward the other. The threads danced in and out, weaving themselves tight. It lasted only a second and then they were gone as if they had never been. Maleena stared at him in wonder; his physical touch brought no pain.

He pulled his hand away, a wary look in his eyes. “What was that?”

She looked at the night around them, searching for a sign of the threads. “I have no idea. I’ve never seen anything like it. Maybe it’s what happens when two people who can use magic, meet.”

“I guess it could be.” He sounded doubtful.

The rising wind snatched at her wet cloak and she held it closed with her free hand. “My home isn’t far. There is a stall in the barn for your horse, although it might be a little small for him.”

“Small or not, I’m sure he will find it more to his liking than this rain. Lead the way, my lady.”

Maleena turned into the wind-driven rain and started up the road, her thoughts a jumble of confusion. Who was this man that she could touch him without pain? She ignored the small flutter of pleasure at being called
my lady
by him, feeling silly that the compliment could mean so much.

The dropping temperature turned the rain to stinging ice as they slogged up the road. The horse plodded behind them, his ears pinned against the wind. They were both soaked through and Maleena was shivering violently by the time they got his horse settled into the barn and stepped through the door of the house.

Sighing with relief as the warmth of the fire wrapped around her, Maleena pulled off her dripping cloak and hung it on a peg by the door and looked over at her companion. He hardly seemed affected by the cold rain. “How is it that I am freezing and you don’t seem cold at all?”

He shrugged. “I’m from Calladar and it gets much colder there. The days during the summer are nice enough but the nights are always cold. In the winter it is bitter cold even during the day.”

She shuddered. “Why would anyone choose to live in such a place?”

“The Watch cannot be surrendered, even for a warm fire or green winters.”

He seemed like a half-tamed wolf again. “You must at least be ready to change from your wet clothing.” She handed him an oil lamp and pointed at the open door closest to where they stood, “You can use that room, there’s wood in the rack and flint on the shelf next to the fireplace. If you will excuse me, I must change before I’m frozen through.” Kicking off her mud covered boots she headed through the farthest door.

Mckale watched her vanish before reaching to unlace his boots. He would have preferred to keep them with him, but he didn’t want to track mud through her house. His grandmother had been death on anyone who tracked mud through her house. He had a feeling every woman was and he didn‘t want to make this one angry with him after she’d offered him shelter from the storm. In stocking feet, he strode into his appointed room. Using the light from the oil lamp, he found the flint and wood rack and quickly built up a fire in the small fireplace.

He was sure it was burning well, then shut the door and peeled off his sodden clothes. Mckale opened the clasps on his bag, thankful the well-oiled leather had kept the contents dry. He pulled on dry clothing, then dumped the remainder of his belongings out, setting the bag near the fireplace to let the warmth dry the rain still clinging to the outside of the bag.

Mckale emerged from the room clothed in snug, dry breeches, a loose cotton shirt, and his swords belted across his hips. The young woman stood near the hearth on the far wall, hanging her wet clothes on pegs. A pot of steaming tea sat on the table next to a small bowl of honey and two cups. Several candles in mirrored sconces on the walls gave the room a soft glow. Together it created a cozy, peaceful feeling that eased some of the tension he had felt since his father sent him on this journey.

He stood quietly in the doorway, watching the woman move about, arranging the clothes so they would dry as soon as possible. She was slim and very short; her head barely reached his chest. Although she wore a loose night dress, it didn’t hide her well-proportioned curves. Her damp hair fell in thick, chestnut waves to her waist.

He saw no signs anyone else occupied the house with her. What was a beautiful young woman doing living alone? Surely there was a young man in the village Maleena could have chosen. She turned from the clothes and the light caught her eyes. Deep violet, a color he had never seen in eyes before. They set her apart.

She saw him and smiled. “I didn’t realize you were standing there. Would you like a cup of tea?”

He nodded. “A hot drink sounds wonderful.”

“Do you expect to be attacked?” she asked, eyeing the swords hanging on his hips.

“Always.”

“Always?” she echoed. “Has your life been so dangerous?”

“I’m a Border Guard.”

Maleena shook her head and moved to the table. After pouring tea into the cups, she sat down in one of the chairs. He sat across from her and took a long drink of the hot liquid, feeling its warmth spread through him. Across the table the young woman sipped at her tea quietly. “Do you live here alone?” he asked, although he was already sure of the answer.

A shadow of sadness crossed her delicate features and she nodded. “My grandmother passed not very long ago. She was all I had.”

“You have no other family?”

“No and the villagers avoid me. I have strange powers; they stay as far away as possible. Truthfully, I tend to avoid them, too. The last few years it became more difficult to be around large groups of people.”

“Where are your parents?” he asked.

“They died in a fire when I was three.”

Mckale looked across at her. “I am sorry you lost your grandmother.”

A sad smile touched her lips. “Don’t be. I knew it was coming. I saw it months earlier. I’ve had plenty of time to get used to it.”

“You can see the future?” His eyebrows rose in surprise, both at her powers and his own reaction to it. Her revelation didn’t bother him

She nodded. “Sometimes...I wish I could avoid it. I’m held to the vision, good or bad, until its conclusion. There is no way to stop it. It can be…uncomfortable”

“Is that how you knew where I was? You don’t seem like the type that wanders the road at night in the rain beating the bushes for well-hidden male travelers. You must have known I was there somehow.”

She smiled at him. “That’s another of my ‘gifts’ as my grandmother called them. I can use water to see things. It showed me you.”

Her abilities were considerable. What else she was capable of?

She set her cup down and looked across at him. “So tell me, Border Guard, how is it that you came to be wandering around at night in the rain?”

Mckale sat in silence for a long time before he finally spoke. “I served as Border Guard in Calladar for over a year. During my last trip to the border we encountered a band of Kojen. It was the third band we came across that acted different. Usually they come in a wild charge. These stalked us for days hunting in a pack-like manner.

“We outnumbered them three to one, but these were stronger in their mental attacks. Within minutes, half of the men in my patrol were on the ground screaming.” He stared at the cup in his hands. “I don’t know what happened. For weeks there has been a hum in my mind. A ‘presence’ as you put it. It held me through the attack. Somehow I focused on it and felt power flowing through me into the ground. The next thing I knew, the ground started to shake and turn to liquid beneath the Kojen. They sank into it and were swallowed.