Foundation

Mags studied her carefully. Her soft brown eyes were full of determination, and he sensed that she was not going to accept “no.”

“I gots a teacher,” he said, instead of an outright refusal. “I don’ think they’d let me have a different one —”

“I know who your teacher is, and I am just as good.” Defiantly, she raised her pointed little chin. “I can do this. There’s no reason why not.”

He sucked on his lower lip. “Ye gots to ask her,” he said, finally. “I cain’t just not turn up, see?”

For answer, she stood up, grabbed his hand and tugged at it. “Then let’s go.”

A little amused, and a little alarmed, he let himself be led away; he realized that she must have some information about what he was doing at night, because she went straight to the empty classroom he and Beren and Lyr were using for extra lessons. They were early, and the tutor looked up at the sound of footsteps crossing the threshold. Her eyes narrowed, than widened, when she saw he wasn’t alone.

“This isn’t the time or place, Mags,” she began. But with a toss of her long, brown hair, Lena interrupted, albeit politely.

“Chronicler Lilli,” she said, with a little bow. “I’m Bardic Trainee Lena Marchand. I know you’ve been asked to tutor three of the Heraldic Trainees. I would like to tutor Trainee Mags in your place.”

Lilli regarded Lena thoughtfully. “And why would you want to do that?” she asked carefully.

Lena smiled. “Because he’s my friend. And that makes me more motivated to help him pass his classes than you are; I want him to get caught up so he can have free time like everyone else. And because you have to teach three, while I will only have to think about one.”

The Chronicler scratched the back of her head. “If it was anyone but you—but they talk well of your scholarship, Trainee Lena. And I am confident of Mags’ ability to concentrate on his studies ...” She pondered this for a moment. Then, “Very well. You must take care that there are no distractions. You may use the room next door to this one, and I will drill him afterward.”

Now the thoroughly bemused Mags was led by the hand to the designated room, where, with a determined look on her face, Lena set up two chairs, facing each other, with the table between them.

Somehow, and he could not quite reckon how, Lena made a lot more sense than the Chronicler did. He reflected as she drilled him relentlessly that he wished all his classes were maths and math-related. Those things had simple logic. Two into four would always be two, never five, never three. But the things people had done in the past! There seemed no reason for them.

Except that somehow Lena was able to explain the reasons. They might not be logical, but then, neither was Mags all the time. They were understandable. Perhaps that was what Chronicler Lilli had missed. Without reasons for what had happened, Mags simply could not grasp the events themselves; they became nothing but a series of things to be memorized, and his mind didn’t work well on strict memorization.

Having made more progress in an evening than he had in three, after Chronicler Lilli came in, drilled him on what he was supposed to have learned, and pronounced herself satisfied, Mags grabbed Lena’s hand and wrung it in wordless gratitude. She smiled shyly at him.

“I dunno why ye wanted t’ help a strawhead like me, but—ye’re a wonder, Lena,” he managed after a moment.

She ducked her head. “I don’t mind. And ... I hate being in my room and seeing where Bumper’s box used to be, and—” Her eyes grew bright, and Mags hastily searched for something, anything to distract her. Then he hit on it.

“Ye’ve never met Dallen,” he said quickly. “Come meet Dallen afore ye go back t’ Bardic, eh?”

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “All right—” she began, but this time it was Mags’ turn to seize a hand and drag his friend off before she could think of any reason to protest.

The stable was very quiet at this time of night, with most of the Companions drowsing in their stalls, warmly covered against any hint of chill with their thick blue blankets. The carefully shielded lanterns glowed golden, so it wasn’t at all hard to see, and the air smelled of nothing worse than hay and horse. The atmosphere was strangely cozy for so large a building, and very peaceful. But Dallen was wide awake and alert, having been warned by Mags that they were coming, and looking for them. They could see his head from the doorway, the glow of a lamp gilding it as he peered through the shadows at them.

Lena stopped dead in her tracks at the first sight of him. Her mouth opened in a soundless “o” and her eyes grew very big. Mags found himself smiling; always something that surprised him when it happened. He thought that he had probably smiled more in the few weeks he had been here than in his entire life before Dallen.

:I do believe she has never seen a Companion up close, Mags,: Dallen said thoughtfully.:Interesting!:

“Well, go on, he don’t bite,” Mags urged. “He says hullo.”

“Can I—can I touch him?” she asked, her eyes shining, and her fingers twitching with the unspoken urge to stroke that silver coat.

“Of course ye can touch him!” Mags patted her shoulder encouragingly. “I wouldn’ have brought ye here t’ meet him if ye couldn’.”

:Tell her I quite like being touched.: Dallen’s eyes sparkled with amusement, and he lowered his nose to Lena’s tentative hand.

“He’s a one for bein’ made much of,” Mags paraphrased, with a waggle of his eyebrow. “Don’t reckon he ever turned down bein’ scratched.”

Lena giggled, and stroked Dallen’s nose, then gently scratched his eye ridges. Dallen sighed and closed his eyes in bliss. :Tell her she can stop in a year or so—but she can take more time if she needs to.: