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CHAPTER 10

      WHEN WARE opened his eyes again it was dark. He could see that Hearth was cooking something over a small fire, and Hasty was hovering around her. Steel was stacking wood. Why was she doing his job?

      He sat up violently. The Bear!

      But there was no danger in sight, and his friends seemed calm and unworried. Had he dreamed it?

      His head hurt. And his chest. ". . . Aunt?"

      She came over to him, carrying a cup of something that smelled like potato soup. "Feeling better?"

      "I was chasing the bear, and Steel was . . . " But he could see that Steel was sitting by the fire, unhurt.

      An unfamiliar face appeared. "How's the invalid?"

      Ware looked suspiciously at the broad-shouldered, short-legged man who bent over him. The man's face reminded him of . . . "Do I know you?"

      The man rubbed his shoulder. "We met briefly. You hit me with a stick and I knocked you down."

      Ware struggled to get up, "You're the bear! I saw you change into a man."

      The stranger sought Hearth's eyes. "He hit his head when he fell. When he came charging out of the woods, I thought he was one of the king's men, chasing her. I didn't mean to hurt him."

      Hearth put a calm hand on Ware's shoulder. "Drink some soup. We'll talk about it later."

      "But I saw him."

      Steel had come to stand beside the stranger. "Tell them, Steel. You saw it, too."

      "Prince Zex is one of King Hawk's counselors. I've known him half my life," she said quietly. "He's been looking for me for twenty days. He tracked us all the way from your village and has only just now found us."

      She knelt beside Ware and put her hand on his arm. "As you are my friend, be his friend."

      It seemed to him that she was saying something more than her words said, but his mind felt dark, and whatever her other meaning was, he could not reach it.

      Hearth said, "Drink your soup now, and have a rest."

      So Ware did as Hearth told him, while the others went back to the fire. When the cup was empty, he put it down and gingerly explored the painful spot on the back of his head. There was a large lump in the exact place where the pain was. Yes, he had certainly hit his head.

      He closed his eyes, and saw again that huge furry mass crouching beside Steel. And it had — yes, knock on the head or not, he had certainly seen the bear change and become a man.

      Then the man had run at him, and . . . it was the same face. Zex. Steel said that was his name. A Berach-ish name.

      And the Berachs called themselves the Bear-People, so maybe . . . Ware's head hurt. Those people were enemies; who could tell what a Berach might do.

      Why would Steel have a Berach for a friend?

      As he puzzled his aching head over these matters, someone touched his arm, and there was Dummy, the young man from the inn, crouching beside him.

      The earnest, heavy face looked strange to Ware in the dim light. The eyes were dark hollows, and the gauzy beginnings of a young man's beard were visible on his cheeks, outlined by the fire against the darkness. "I want t' come with you," Dummy said. "Let me. I'm a hard worker. I'm strong."

      From the depths of his confusion, Ware said, "But they need you at the inn. They'll miss you."

      "Naa. Uncle'll hit me if I go back."

      Ware's expression must have showed his reluctance, because Dummy went on quickly, "W'atever happens, I won't stay there any more. An' you're the first one who's talked t' me kind — or even looked at me since Ol' Granma died. Please. I'll work. I'll do anything you say."

      Dummy's voice creaked with emotion, and again Ware sensed the isolation of the young man's deafness. Ware's own life was like the bright fire by comparison.

      He said slowly. "Well . . . we're going to be hiding from the soldiers all the way. And it might be dangerous. But — all right, you can come with us."

      Dummy clutched Ware's shoulder. "That's good. Good. An' I'll help you. You'll see."

      Ware got up shakily and took his empty cup to Hearth. "The fellow from the Inn is coming along with us," he said.

      Hearth looked at him sharply, then at Dummy, hulking behind him. But she nodded, not arguing with Ware's decision.

      He looked around. Hasty was already asleep. Steel was deep in conversation with Zex who seemed to have joined them as well.

      She was nodding. Smiling at the Berach. But Ware had no reason to feel angry or left out because of that, did he?

      His chest hurt. The fire was too bright for his eyes. He returned to his quilt and put his aching head down on his arm. Dummy rolled himself up in a shabby blanket that had come from somewhere. Hasty began snoring lightly, a child's snuffling sound. Hearth banked the fire, then she, too, lay down to sleep.

      Now that he was lying down and the light was dimmer, Ware's eyes hurt less. The branches of the trees were faintly visible above him. The blackness beyond them looked as soft as fur.

      The wind was moving in the forest, sliding along the rough trunks and the smooth boughs. The fire was crunching the tiny bones of trees, speaking to them in its own brittle language as it ate them up, loving the food that gave it life.

      He closed his eyes, and through the forest-sounds came the sharp edges of human whispers:

      Steel's voice: "I've got to reach King's Valley as soon as I can — to tell Hawk what's happening."

      "Then go now. Tonight. You're not safe here; the Usurper's men are everywhere."

      "I can't, Zex. I — I've lost the talisman! The only way I can get back is on foot."

      Ware was too weary to understand. Her anguished whisper slid away from him, and he slept.

      It was day again when he woke. His head still hurt and his mouth tasted like a goat-shed, but the strangeness had passed. He got up stiffly, and his knees no longer trembled.

      Steel was nowhere in sight. Hearth was stirring something in a pot, Dummy was feeding sticks to the fire, and Hasty was underfoot, being calmly ordered away by Hearth. Everything was as it should be.

      "Good Morning," Ware said.

      Hearth put a warm hand on his forehead. "How do you feel?"

      "I'm all right."

      She gave him a close look, then a satisfied nod. "You look terrible, but you'll do. I was worried about you last night."

      "Is there any water?" he asked.

      "We used it all up." Hasty answered for her. "Dummy got us oats and dried plums, and we used all the water to make porridge. Steel and that man went to look for a stream."

      Hearth handed Ware the long-handled spoon she had been using. "Stir." Then she turned to Dummy. "And you, Boy. See if you can find us some firewood." Ware noticed that she touched Dummy's shoulder before she spoke and looked right into his eyes, to be sure he understood. How did she know to do that, he wondered? Aunt Hearth always seemed to know everything.

      As Ware stirred the oat porridge, Hearth shook out the quilts and folded them neatly. At her direction, Hasty set out bowls and spoons, and by the time Dummy came back, everything was in order.

      Hearth gave Dummy an appraising glance. "Come here, young man," she said, accompanying her words with a gesture.

      He came obediently, and she reached up to brush his brown-red hair off his forehead, dusted off his sleeve, and patted his shoulder, while he stood like a tame animal being petted. "Now then. Tell me something."

      He nodded.

      "I don't like the name 'Dummy.' Is there something else we can call you?"

      His face reddened and he looked down. "Got no other name."

      Hearth put her hand under his chin to bring his eyes back to her face. She shook her head. "What did your mother call you?"

      Never knew 'er. Granma though, the mother's mother — his face opened as he thought of her, "She called me Ember, sometimes. 'Cause of my hair."

      "Ember. I like that." Hearth glanced at Ware and her look spoke to him.

      "I like it too." he seconded quickly. "It suits you."

      "May we call you Ember?" Hearth asked.

      Unexpectedly, the young man's eyes filled with tears. "Oh, yes. I'll take Ember as my true name, just as if the King himself had given it to me. An' I'll obey you like the King, too. I'll belong to you. To both of you!"

      Hearth's eyes were misty as she answered, "No. We'll be glad to have your friendship, but you belong to yourself."

      "I mean what I say." The young man took Hearth's hand and sank to his knees, as he repeated the old, old words: "I will take Ember for my true name, and by it, I swear to be your true man all my life. An' when you call me, let my spirit answer."

      Hearth drew him to his feet and said, "Then let Ember be your true name all your life long. I will take your loyalty and call you at my need. And in return, I give you what protection is mine to give. But you are a free man, Ember, and not my servant. For my sake and your own, be your own man." The first phrases were the traditional ones, but the last ones were Hearth's own.

      "I will remember this moment all my life," Ware thought, looking at his aunt, in her dusty, home-made dress, ragged at the hem from tramping through the forest, and then at Dummy — no, his name was Ember now — with his face full of happiness and light. Still stirring the porridge, feeling the morning sun across his shoulders, Ware felt that his thoughts of both Hearth and Ember would always be colored by this memory.

      Hasty looked awed. "I didn't know ordinary people could do that. I thought only kings could give someone a name."

      "As if the Usurper would stoop to name you country people," broke in a harsh voice. It was Zex, carrying a leather bucket of water. "He'd be more likely to hang you for your presumption!"

      Steel was a little behind him. "Let's hope he never gets the chance," she said tightly.

      Zex put down the bucket beside the fire. "And that leads me to something I want to discuss . . ."

      Before he could go on, Hasty broke in loudly, "Oh, let's don't talk about anything now. It's time for breakfast."

      "No, I must settle this," Zex said, placing himself between Steel and the others. "I've taken the Lady Steel under my protection, so it's time for you village people to return to your homes and go about your business." Arms folded, feet apart, head up, it was clear he was not to be argued with.

      Ware glowered. Who was this arrogant Berach — even if he was a prince — to tell them to go away. "We're going with her to King Hawk!"

      "What would King Hawk want with you?" Zex gave him a smile that was a mere show of teeth, "A little boy, an old woman, a deaf servant . . . and an ignorant country pumpkin!"

      Ware's anger rose to meet the Berach's scorn. "More than you know, maybe." Once more he saw that daydream of himself with Steel, running hand-in-hand through a soft forest morning. What would he do with the rest of his life if that never came to pass?

      Zex's face grew browner and fuller; his eyes glittered, and his angry smile showed the sharpness of his teeth. "You stupid fellow. If you insist on coming with us, I'll simply have more of you to look out for!"

      Ware clenched his fists. "That's not true."

      Zex took a threatening step forward, stepping almost into the fire and nearly overturning the pot. "You backwoods vegetable! Can't you tell when you're not wanted?" His eyes had turned red, and his hair was bristling. Every trace of the courtier was gone now.

      Trying to control his own anger, Ware reached toward Zex's mind, looking for a reason for this fury. But the Berach was not thinking, only feeling. The smooth words he had used earlier had come from the surface of his thoughts; below them everything was a jumble of black and red passions — wanting to clutch Steel and keep her to himself. Wanting to trample whatever was in his way. At best, Ware and the others were impediments between himself and Steel . . . at worst they were enemies he must conquer and kill.

      "He'd bite us to death, if he could," Ware thought, amazed.

      Zex was at bay now, and the smell of his rage was all around them. Lips parted in a snarl, massive head wagging from side to side, he roared, "Just get away from us. Go back where you came from!"

      As Ware tensed to meet his attack, Hearth's voice slid between them. "Prince Zex, hear me for a moment. I understand that you want us to go back to our homes, but don't you see, we have no homes to return to. We're poor fugitives, as the Lady Steel will tell you, and who can we turn to, if not to the True King? His followers are few, he would welcome more, and here we are, ready with our loyalty. We go to join him . . . won't you let us travel under your protection?"

      As she spoke, Hearth approached Zex step by step, holding out her hand, palm upward. "After all, Prince, we have the same enemy. Think how it would please King Dur to see us quarrel. To know he had divided us."

      By now she was close enough to Zex to touch him, and although he seemed almost ready to strike her, she laid a calm hand on his arm. "Won't you reconsider and let us go with you?" She looked very vulnerable beside the massive Berach, but her face showed only a motherly concern.

      He glared down at her without answering. Yet at the touch of her hand, the dark blood began to leave his face, and the bristling hair on his head began to lie down again.

      Steel spoke from behind him. "Everything she says is true, Zex. The Usurper's soldiers burned her house and killed her brother when he tried to resist them. Yesterday, this deaf man helped us to get away from the village. These people have nowhere else to go."

      Steel's voice was as soothing as Hearth's had been. "You know, Zex, Ware saved my life. Not once, but many times. He's my friend. Won't you be his friend, for my sake?"

      She was on one side of Zex, Hearth on the other. Between them, they seemed to be not so much restraining Zex as supporting him, calling him back to his better self.

      The Berach gave a shuddering shake to his head. Almost imperceptibly his expression cleared, his back straightened, and, little by little, he became the man he had been. After a moment, he was able say to Steel with something like surprise, "Well, My Lady, I'd thought speed was more important to you than any other consideration. But if you truly wish it, then of course they may join us."

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