Exile's Honor

When she showed them that she was not that different from them, they took her to their hearts. The firelight shone on their young faces, and Alberich tried not to think about how very young they were, how it was certain that some of them would not be going back to those homes and families. It wrung his heart; he reminded himself that they would only be worse off if war had come to their little farms, and they had to face it all untrained.

'But what about now?' she asked finally, looking around. 'Your lieutenant is obviously a fine officer—'

'The best, Ma'am!' said one stoutly, and young Chorran blushed.

She nodded with earnest satisfaction. 'If there is there anything you need, then, I'm sure he'll see to it. But are you getting enough to eat—'

'Well, no one and nothin' is gonna fill up Koan, there—' said one fellow slyly, and the rest laughed; this was evidently a joke of long standing among them. 'But barrin' that, it ain't home, here, but we're all right, Ma'am.'

She looked at each earnest, friendly face in turn, and Alberich watched them watching her, intent on her. It was clear that she had it, that subtle charisma that marked her sire. She had more than their attention; she had won their loyalty.

'My father and I want you all to get home again,' she said softly, as the firelight made a golden halo of her hair, giving her, had she but known it, a slightly ethereal look. 'We want that more than anything. And we want you to go right on gathering mushrooms every spring, chestnuts and potan roots every fall, telling tales beside the fire every winter. But that isn't going to happen if they win.'

Nods all around, each of them looking as if they were hearing this for the first time, even though it was hardly news to any of them.

'But we have what they'll never have,' she continued, holding her young head high, her pride in them showing in every word. 'They don't have a home and they don't want to trouble to build one for themselves; they want to steal ours. They don't have families, even, so Alberich says,' she gestured at Alberich, who contented himself with looking somber. 'And I'd feel sorry for them, I'd even invite them to come settle if they'd just asked us! That's what we're all about, is Valdemar—we don't keep people out if all they want is peace! That's the way we've always been, haven't we?'

Murmurs of assent, with a growl under it.

Good.

'But since these Tedrels don't want peace, don't want to build, and only want to steal our land and homes from us—there's only one way we can meet them,' she continued, with a look of fierce pride that would have been incongruous on such a young face, but for the circumstances. 'We didn't begin this war, but by all that is holy, I swear we will end it!'

It wasn't the best speech he'd ever heard, but it did exactly what Alberich wanted it to; it galvanized them. Partly it was Selenay's personality, partly it was that they wanted to find a figurehead for their cause. They cheered for her, and that was what counted; she thanked them in a way that made them cheer for her again, and when she mounted Caryo, she was glowing with enthusiasm and flushed with pleasure.

Then it was off in another direction, to another campfire, wandering in a random fashion, skipping some groups that seemed to be intent on some business or entertainment of their own, going on to others who might need her speech more. Selenay was beginning to run out of energy and wilting a little when Alberich called a halt to the visits for the night, and led her and her guardians back to her tent.

'Did I—' she asked quietly, as the encampments quieted and the fighters around them let their fires die down and sought their bedrolls.

'Well, you did,' he assured her. 'Very well. And tomorrow, again you will do so, and the next night, and the next. Each time, a different direction, a different set of fires. And know, all will, that their Princess cares for them, and thinks of them, and their King cares for them and his daughter sends to see they are well. So for you they will fight—'

'Not for me!' she exclaimed. 'For Valdemar!'

'But Valdemar, you are,' he countered. 'A face they need, upon the idea. That face, you are.'

She might have continued to voice her objections, but they had reached her tent, and he bundled her inside without standing on ceremony as soon as she had unsaddled Caryo and rubbed her down. 'Sleep now,' he told her. 'Think and argue on the morrow.'

And there he left her, too tired, really, to do more than he had told her to do. She let the tent flap fall shut behind her, Caryo ambled into the lean-to that served as her stable, and he mounted Kantor again.

:She has the spirit in her,: he told his Companion with intense satisfaction as they reached his tent, and he dismounted to free Kantor of his burden of gear. :And she found words enough that were right to do the job.: