“I had seen his face before, at the castle. I know his helm, his armor. Yet tonight his face was hidden from me, as mine was from him. I looked at him and saw . . . multitudes of people, all bowing to worship. People in flames.”

Binnesman laughed long and hard. “Perhaps you were looking too deeply. Tell me, what were you thinking when this vision appeared?”

“I simply wanted to see him as he was, beneath all those endowments of glamour.”

“Let me tell you a tale,” Binnesman said. “Many years ago, my master was an Earth Warden who served the animals of the forest—the harts and the birds and such. They would come to him, and he would feed them or heal them as needed.

“When I asked how he knew their needs, he seemed surprised. ‘You can see it in their eyes,’ he said. As if that were all the answer. Then he sent me away, out of his service, for he thought me unfit to be an Earth Warden.

“You see, Gaborn, he had the gift of Earth Sight, of looking into the hearts of creatures and divining what they wanted, or needed, or loved.

“I’ve never had that gift. I cannot tell you how to use it, how it works. Believe me, I wish I had your gift.”

“But I don’t have such a gift—” Gaborn objected. “I don’t see into your heart, or Iome’s.”

“Ah, but you were in a place of great earth power,” Binnesman said. “You do have the gift, though you do not know how to use it. Study it out in your mind. Practice it. It will come to you, in time.”

Gaborn wondered. Wizards often said that they needed to “study things out.”

“Yet you have a greater duty now,” Binnesman said. “As Erden Geboren chose his loyal men to fight at his side, you must also begin to choose your followers. It is an awesome responsibility. Those you choose will be bound to you.”

“I know,” Gaborn said. He had heard the legends, how Erden Geboren would choose those to fight at his side, and always he knew their hearts, knew when they faced danger, so that forever after, they never fought alone.

“You must begin to choose . . .” Binnesman mused, looking off over the dark fields.

Gaborn studied the old man, wondering. “You never needed the gift of Earth Sight, did you? Other Earth Wardens may serve the field mice and the snakes—but Earth commanded you to serve man . . . in the dark time to come.”

Binnesman stiffened, glanced at Gaborn. “I beg you never speak that thought aloud. Raj Ahten is not the only lord who would seek my life if he guessed at what you know.”

“Never,” Gaborn said. “I will never tell.”

“Perhaps my old master was right,” Binnesman said. “Perhaps I do not serve the Earth well. . . .”