Exile's Honor

:Easy enough. When we show up at the stable door, the helpers know to get us tacked up. Don't forget, here everyone realizes very well that we aren't horses, and treats us accordingly:

Alberich shook his head a little and mounted; Selenay was already in the saddle. The two Companions wheeled and trotted away from the salle, toward the Collegium.

'I'm on a long-track internship, just as you are,' Selenay explained, over the chime of bridle bells. When he looked at her without understanding, she quickly explained. 'When a Trainee is considered ready to become a Herald, normally they're given the white uniforms and they're sent out along with an older, experienced Herald as a mentor. At first, all they do is observe and discuss what the mentor did afterward. Then, over the course of a year and a half, they gradually begin to take on every task that the older Herald does, until they are doing all the work and it's the mentor that's observing. But I can't do that.'

'Not wise, the Heir out alone with only one other to have as guardian, and not possible, ordinary to be, a troop of guards trailing,' Alberich observed. 'Not wise as well, the Heir to be out of reach, the countryside in, but worse, the Heir to be unguarded, a strange city within. Therefore, here the only option is.'

She nodded 'Exactly. The Heralds and some of the Council assume that staying within the city is safe enough, but not even the most optimistic of them is mad enough to send me out in the field on Internship. And because I'm the Heir, once I put on Whites, I need to have every bit of the authority and experience of a seasoned Herald. The moment I'm a full Herald, I'll have a Council seat and a lot of responsibility. So instead of doing a regular Internship in Whites, I'm on a long-track Internship in Grays. I go sit in on Herald Mirilin's sessions of the Court of Justice, and every so often he asks me to make a judgment or take an action. Rendering justice is a lot of what a Herald does, you see, and you can study it all you like in books, but you never really understand it until you see it done and do it yourself. Justice isn't just laws, it's people.'

By this time they were approaching the graveled road that ran beside the enormous building of the Collegium. A Herald waited for them there, a nondescript man with long brown hair in a single braid down his back, and a small beard. He eyed Alberich with a stony expression.

'The new Trainee, Selenay?' he asked.

'And my bodyguard, Herald Mirilin,' she replied, with perfect composure. 'This is Alberich, and actually, he's on a long Internship, just like I am.'

'I should think so,' Mirilin replied, giving him another stone-faced look. 'I will be interested in trying a blade against you at some point, Alberich.'

Alberich just bowed slightly. The Herald wasn't being actively unfriendly, so there was certainly no point in taking exception with his passive hostility, when all that Alberich was there for was to observe and watch out for young Selenay. 'At your convenience, sir,' he replied, making certain that his voice was absolutely neutral.

They rode down into the city in silence; Alberich didn't care that Herald Mirilin made no effort at conversation. Most of his attention was taken up with watching for trouble—for if the Council was nervous about Selenay going out in public unguarded, there must be at least some reason for their concern. What little of his attention was left over was involved in simple observation.

Even if he had not known very well where he was, he would have known immediately that this was not Karse.

Nearest to the Palace and the Collegium, just outside the complex walls, were the manors of the nobility and wealthy. In Karse, such buildings were the property of the priesthood, each holding the staff and acolytes of one or another of the high-ranking Sunpriests. There was a great deal of difference between these places that held secular families and those manses. For one thing—sounds. No sounds of prayer, chanting, that sort of thing. Dogs barking, occasional voices of children and young people, and also the sounds of domestic animals; some homes had music drifting from them, some the sounds of a party or friendly gathering coming out of the gardens.

The farther the three of them got from the Palace, following a road that wound back and forth in a manner of which Alberich strongly approved (defensively, it made sense not to have a direct path to the Palace), the less expensive and more crowded the buildings became. And soon after that, rows of shops anchored by taverns, cookshops, or inns began to displace houses, and temple facades poked in among the shops, with shrines in city squares or on corners. The noise level increased with increasing traffic and population, of course. But again, it was obvious that this wasn't Karse, because there were so many different temples and shrines, and, as he noticed on closer observation, not all of the things that had appeared to be shrines were anything of the sort. Some were public fountains, some statues that (so far as he could tell) had no religious significance whatsoever.

Some were clearly statues of Valdemaran heroes, and it was no surprise that a great many of them were Heralds (who were invariably shown with their Companions). Not all, however, which was interesting. Equally interesting were the statues that almost always surmounted the public fountains, which were not martial in any way. In fact, given that the figures were dressed in quite elaborate clothing and often held tools or implements, he had a guess—a quite astonishing guess, since nothing of the sort would have been permitted in Karse. Common artisans and merchants, no matter how wealthy or talented, should never be allowed to exalt themselves to the point of putting up public statues of themselves. Vkandis frowned on spending money putting up vainglorious statues when the same money could be given to the temple, and at any rate, exalting yourself or your ancestors in such a fashion was an indulgence in the sin of pride.

'That is who?' he asked finally, catching Selenay's eye and nodding at a statue of a round, balding little man, who clutched a plumb-bob and compass and beamed at passers-by. Alberich rather liked his statue, for not only