No True Way by Mercedes Lackey Page A

scream came from the inn, and the door blew shut again, cutting off the sound.
    â€œThe man with the knife crouched beside the stall door, just waiting for the Companion to win his freedom. He was just below her, and between the pounding hooves and slamming door and yowling cats, not the mention the storm, he didn’t notice she was there.
    â€œElla was scared, but she was more angry than scared. Nobody should try to hurt a Companion!
    â€œShe drew in a deep breath, braced her feet carefully, and rolled the bale the last of the way free of the loft andit fell directly onto him, knocking him down. His knife skittered across the barn floor and came to rest under an old table.
    â€œThe Companion broke the door in two. He bounded through the splintered halves and glanced at the man Ella had knocked down. Apparently satisfied that he was no danger, the Companion raced directly into the man with the bow and half-nocked arrow, throwing him to the ground with weight and speed alone. He didn’t stop, but leaped past the fallen man and through the door, heading for the inn.”
    Helen found she’d been clenching her fingers tight around the blanket. She looked at the frail body of her grandmother and asked, “So, she did hear the Mindspeech?”
    â€œNever again. Only that one night.”
    â€œWho were the bad men?”
    â€œThey were the leaders of the worst bandit ring in this area. The roads were safer for two years after that.
    â€œThe Herald had a knife wound in his arm. He had so many bruises that Ella’s grandmother fed him soup for two days. Ella washed the Companion clean and brushed out his mane and tail. Her grandfather kept the bandits trussed up in the town jail.
    â€œIn two days, a Healer and two Heralds came. They took the bandits and left, although the Healer fixed up a few people in town who needed help as well.
    â€œBefore he left, the Herald told Ella that she’d saved them both.”
    â€œOf course. If one dies, the other dies.”
    â€œAlmost always,” her Grandfather said. “It’s not true for some of the Companions, such as the ones who bond with the King’s Own.”
    â€œWill you tell me that story?”
    â€œAnother day.”
    â€œDid grandmother wish she were Chosen?”
    â€œShe never told me if she did. But I think so. I think almost all younglings in Valdemar have that hope in their hearts. But most of us grow up and have to be content with the gifts we do get in life. Sometimes it’s the barest and smallest gifts that matter, like knowing when a Herald is on the way, or even like knowing when a storm is coming, the way your mom does.”
    Helen reached out to give her grandmother’s hand a squeeze and found it was cold and still. She looked up her grandfather in alarm.
    He put a hand on hers, a single tear tracking down his cheek. “I thought she would go tonight and that this would be a good story to be telling when she did. It’s okay, sweetheart. She was ready, and she had a great life.”
    Even though he was saying those words, Helen could tell his heart hurt. His eyes were bright with tears. She walked around her grandmother’s still body, touching the cold, stiff toes as she went by. She gave her grandfather a hug and he returned it, his arms shaky.
    â€œShe’s the woman in the song, isn’t she?” Helen asked.
    â€œThe Master Bard who wrote it changed the name of the inn and Ella’s name so we wouldn’t be bothered. The Bards all know, and that’s why they stop here so often on their travels, especially the ones in training.”
    After a while, the other members of the family came up to help out, and Helen went to sleep.
    She woke just before dawn, tiptoeing through the quiet and slightly sad inn to the kitchen and stoked the fire.
    She made herself tea and stood by the window. As early sunlight spilled onto the road, a Herald and Companionrode up the lane toward