Exile's Honor

saying anything for now, I suppose. I'll have a word with Mirilin—'

:We already have, via Estan, and he won't be mentioning Alberich's presence as the Heir's bodyguard to anyone, not even to other Heralds,: Kantor said promptly, and by the sudden, startled look on Talamir's face, Taver must have said the same thing at the same moment. Dethor laughed aloud; the word must have reached him, as well.

Talamir coughed. 'Well. Apparently you have far more friends here than I had thought, Alberich. So unless someone from the Council actually sees you at Selenay's back, and realizes who you are, apparently we'll keep that much from their attention for a while.' His face grew distant again for a moment, and he added, 'Long enough that perhaps by the time the Council realizes just who Selenay's bodyguard is, there will be far fewer doubts about you.'

'Occurred to you, had it, that we being managed are?' Alberich asked him, in a moment of stark frankness. 'By them?'

They knew who he meant—the Companions. He half expected Kantor to be annoyed by the statement, but he sensed instead a dry amusement.

He got a look of startlement, then one of understanding, from both the Heralds. 'Oh, always, at least to an extent,' Talamir replied, with the same utter honesty. 'And in some cases, that's all to the good.' His voice took on a different coloring then, a hint of wry tartness. 'But let me tell you a bit of home truth, Alberich of Karse— something that I do not tell the children, because they are children and need managing—it is your right and privilege to tell your beloved Companion just where he can shove anything he tells you or asks of you if it goes completely against your better judgment.' He raised an eyebrow. 'As even my Taver has found, to his occasional shock and dismay.'

Dethor whooped with laughter, and applauded. 'By the gods, Talamir, good for you! And well said!'

Now Alberich expected Kantor to be completely offended, but instead, he 'heard' an ironic chuckle in his mind. :Tell the King's Own that it is our right and privilege to do the same with our Chosen, you know.:

Alberich started to repeat the remark, but Talamir held up his hand. 'Never mind. Taver has said the same as your Kantor, I expect. My point is that we are adults, and although the Companions have certain abilities and information that we, their Heralds, may not—well, the reverse is true as well. You've got a mind of your own, and experience that your Companion doesn't have, and, I presume, sound judgment. Don't be afraid to use them, and if you feel strongly about something, be prepared to insist you be heard. The Companions don't know everything. As Taver pointed out to a few of them the other night, they aren't infallible. They can make mistakes, and advice can go both ways. Herald and Companion are meant to be partners, not superior and servant.'

'In the beginning for most Trainees, exactly 'cause they are younglings, that isn't always the case,' Dethor put in. 'Sometimes Chosen and Companion are the same age and learn together, but sometimes one's full grown while the other's still a child, or just a little older. But in your case, you're both adults, and you start out with a partnership from the beginning.'

Talamir nodded emphatically. 'We each give, and we each take, and what we do should be the result of cooperation, not dictation. Don't forget that.'

'I shall not,' Alberich replied, 'But for the moment, Kantor it is, who knows this land and people. Not I.'

'True enough.' Talamir hefted his tankard and looked at Dethor, who poured him (and, without his asking, Alberich as well) another round. The beer foamed up, leaving a pleasantly bitter aroma in the air.

Dethor and Talamir exchanged another pregnant glance. Alberich's neck prickled. Something was still in the air. Talamir was not here only because of the rumors coming out of Karse.

'Alberich, I'm here for more than one reason. I think that you already have some inkling of this, so I am going to put it in plain language,' Talamir continued, rubbing his thumb along the side of the tankard. 'As a fighting commander, I suspect that you have, more than once, had to do what was expedient, rather than what was—'

'Ideal?' Alberich suggested. 'An idealist, I never was.'

:Liar,: Kantor objected mildly. :Who was it, agonizing over the fate of the border villages just now? Who is it that values honor above everything else?:

:Hush: He flexed his shoulder muscles; they felt tense. Something was coming; he was just beginning to make out the shape of it, and he wasn't certain he was going to like it. 'You have a thought.'

'More than one. Actually, I have—we have—a job that needs doing. It's something I used to do, before I got too crippled up,' Dethor said, with just a hint of... regret? Bitterness, that he was no longer what he had been? 'I don't know that you'd have the stomach for it—but I've got to tell you, Alberich, for all your skill you're the last person I'd have looked to for this, except for one thing. Taver trusts you. He thinks you can do this, so Talamir says.'

'Taver said to ask you,' Talamir added, and sighed, his brow furrowed with concern and uncertainty.