Blade watched the Forces of Go
od gather triumphantly under the burned trees. Healers were coming quickly out of the surviving woods and hurrying to those of the people lying around who were still moving. A fresh, neat line of legionaries trotted out after them, carrying spades.
At that Blade could not stand any more and took himself away, back to the camp. Don was standing by the river with his head hanging, golden again, but draggled.
“I hated that!” he said to Blade. “The trouble was, I enjoyed it, too. What’s wrong with me?”
“I felt just the same. I wish there wasn’t another one next week,” Blade said.
They leaned together, exhausted. “And we’ve still got the geese and the Hunt again tonight!” Don groaned.
Shona came out of her tent. She walked down toward them in that strange way she had lately, as if the air were thicker for her than for other people and made walking an effort, but she looked rather better. “Both of you come to my tent,” she said. “The healer’s got some brandy, and we’re cooking steak.”
Don and Blade went gratefully—and quickly, because Kit and Callette were coming in to land and both of them looked almost unbearably cheerful.
After that Blade found he was dreading next week’s battle. He buried himself in the work around the camp and forgot about it as much as he could. But he envied Kit and Callette for their uncomplicated feelings about it. They enjoyed battles, both of them. Then Blade found he envied Don, too. Don had managed to have a heart-to-heart talk with Derk, in which he told Derk all about the double way the battle made him feel, and Derk had said that in that case Don could take charge of the geese and the Wild Hunt and not go to any more of the battles. Blade tried to catch Derk then and say the same, but Derk had left. Prince Talithan had tried to sack a second city and found all the citizens missing from this city, too. Derk was hunting for them.
“Because they all have to be somewhere,” he kept saying.
“They’re lying low,” Barnabas said. “They know there’ll be trouble with Mr. Chesney.”
“Yes, but where?” said Derk. In the end, since it was time for the next battle, he sent the daylight owls to find Scales, each with a message tied to its leg asking Scales to look for the missing townsfolk.
The battle took place without Don, and Blade found it worse than the first. His excitement, and his hatred of it, seemed twice as strong, now he knew what to expect. It made him feel like two people in one body. He wondered, in the evening, when it was over at last, whether he could stand another time.
The next morning Derk was gone again. Barnabas came up to Blade after breakfast carrying a bundle of clothing with a cardboard folder balanced on top. “You’ve got three days to get yourself down to the coast,” he told Blade cheerfully. “Your Pilgrim Party starts the day after that. Here’s your wizardly robes, and the list of your Pilgrims is in this folder. Got your black book? Map and pamphlets? You’ll need those. And do remember there’s bound to be someone who’ll be reporting back to Mr. Chesney. Pilgrims pay a reduced fee if they do, so there’s always someone. Make sure you always do exactly what’s in the black book, won’t you?”
It was a tremendous shock to Blade. He was thinking of his own tour as still in the distant future, and here it was, on top of him. It was almost equally a great relief. He did not need to stand another battle after all. Otherwise he felt rather frantic. He had not learned much of the black book, and what he had learned had gone all vague in his head. Kit had the map and the book and was not pleased.
“But you’ve made at least a hundred copies!” Blade protested. “And I need them.”
Kit grudgingly gave up the rather battered black book and the dog-eared map. “I was reckoning on having you for another battle at least,” he said. “I can’t believe we’ve been out here nearly six weeks. Callette’s not going to be half as quick with my orders. She’ll have to fly everywhere. I’ll have to rethink my plans. And we’ll have to have Don back. All right. You go. I’d better call a meeting of my captains. Those werewolves didn’t pull their weight in either battle, and I want to talk to them, anyway.”
Kit paced away, muttering in his beak and swinging his tail. Blade turned to take the map and the book to his tent and nearly ran into Shona.
“I’ve decided to come on this Pilgrim Party with you,” Shona said. “I can be your tour bard.”
Blade had a moment when he was really pleased, and then another moment when he was furious at the way Shona never let him do anything by himself. These were followed by a third moment when he was afraid that Shona’s mind might have gone strange. The three things together caused him to say doubtfully, “But won’t the Bardic College be awfully angry if you do?”
“Let them be angry,” Shona said. “They’ve expelled me from their college and forbidden me bardic status. There’s nothing else they can do to me. And I hate sitting around in this camp so close to those awful soldiers. You will let me come with you, won’t you, Blade? Please.”
“It will be nice to have someone I know with me,” Blade conceded.
They settled that they would leave after Derk came back, so that they could say good-bye to him.
EIGHTEEN
WHEN DERK RETURNED from soothing angry Wizard Guides and heard the news, he had mixed feelings. In one way he was pleased that Blade would have Shona with him to keep him sensible. On the other hand, he was afraid that Shona was so upset at losing her career that she was thinking of getting herself killed somewhere along the way. But he had no time to argue. Tomorrow, unless Finn was badly behind schedule, the first Pilgrim Party would be arriving at the Citadel to kill the Dark Lord, and Derkholm was still not a Citadel. So he simply implored Shona to be careful and watched Blade take hold of Shona’s arm. Shona was clutching a bag, her violin, her harp, and her flute. Blade only had his bundle of robes and the folder.
“Black book?” said Derk.
“In my pocket,” said Blade. “Don’t fuss, Dad.” The two of them disappeared with the strong inrushing of wind that always went with a translocation.
“Kit, you’ll have to fly the Hunt tonight with Don and Callette,” Derk said to Kit. “I have to get to Derkholm.”
“But I’ve called a conference!” Kit protested.
“Then make it brief,” said Derk. “You haven’t time to enjoy yourself tonight.”