Magic's Pawn

the orders of my crotchety old aunt!' He rolled his eyes mournfully at them.

Jesalis giggled. 'We'll only forgive you if you promise to make it up to us tonight after dinner.''

'Tonight?' he asked, pained by the idea of spending the evening with them instead of with Tylendel as they'd planned this morning.

They mistook his expression for headache. 'Well, not if you still aren't feeling well,' Jesalis amended.

'After a tramp across a perilous obstacle course like that,'' he gestured flamboyantly at the Field across the river, ' 'I much doubt I 'm going to be feeling better.''

'Well - '

'A bargain; if you'll forgive me, I'll come and play for you while you're doing finework tomorrow morning,' he said, quite desperately, willing to promise them almost anything to avoid losing his evening, and recalling that they'd all been pestering him to play for them. Before it hadn't been possible; it would have hurt too much. Now, though - well, becoming - or not becoming - a Bard didn't seem all that important anymore. And consequently the thought of music didn't hurt anymore. Or not as much. Certainly it was a small price to pay for having his evening free.

'You will?' squealed Wendi, whose older sister was fostered with Vanyel's mother. 'Really? Ratha told me you were as good as a Bard!'

'Well,' he shrugged, then smirked, 'I won't say I'm a bad hand at the lute. And I know a ballad and a dance or two.'

'Done,' said Jesalis. 'A bargain.'

'Bless you, my dear,' he replied, with honest thankfulness. 'I wouldn't be able to live without your forgiveness. Now, if you'll all excuse me - the sooner I get this nonsense over, the sooner I'll be able to go back to my bed.'

They giggled and turned back, retracing their footsteps. While he watched them, they disappeared behind the hedge again, heading in the direction of the maze.

When they were safely out of sight, he trudged - to all appearances, most unwillingly - across the bridge and up a little rise, heading a little indirectly for the pine grove.

He went past it, walking through soft grasses that ranged from knee-high to closely cropped. And despite what he had told the girls, there were no 'traps' lurking beneath the grass for the unwary. That did surprise him, a bit; he was no stranger to long walks across pastureland and the hazards thereof.

What on earth do the Companions do - drop it all in one corner? I suppose - the stories say they're as intelligent as a human. I suppose it's possible. Likely, really. They still eat grass, like horses, and who’d want to eat in the privy?

After first making certain that there was no one about to see him, Vanyel doubled back to the pine grove, and pushed aside the heavy, scratchy boughs. He almost had to force his way past them; the needles caught in his hair and clothing and the branches closed over his head almost immediately, shutting off most of the sunlight. A few feet inside the grove there was no direct light; he walked through a pine-scented twilight gloom, with boughs lacing together just barely above his head, and a thick carpet of dry needles at his feet. The needles crunched a little, releasing more piny scent, but otherwise his own footsteps were almost noiseless. Some

where in the distance he could hear birds calling, but their songs seemed to be furlongs away. This place looked enormous now that he was inside it, much larger than it had appeared from outside; magical, almost mystical, and far removed from the bright green-and-gold Field just a few feet away.

This wasn't the Grove; that was a good deal farther into the Field - but this stand of ancient pines was giving Vanyel a pleasant, shivery sort of feeling, making him feel somehow more aware and alive.

' 'Lendel?' he called softly into the blue-green quiet under the pine boughs, his voice muffled by the rows of straight, columnar trunks of shaggy ebony all about him. He turned, slowly, trying to see past the shadows; peering beneath the feathery branches.

'Right here,' came the reply from slightly behind him, and a white shape ghosted up on his right, resolving itself into -

A Companion. The first that Vanyel had ever seen at close range. And Tylendel beside her, one hand on her snowy, arched neck.

'This is who I wanted you to meet. Van - this is Gala. She already knows about you, Van, she knew last night. We're mind-linked; I told her everything, and she wanted to see you right away.'

Vanyel felt strange and awkward. Those sapphire eyes held an intelligence that was rather frightening, but the form was a horse. How in the Havens did you introduce yourself to a horse?

The silence grew; he stared into Gala's eyes, swallowed, and finally made the attempt.

'Hullo,' he said, shyly, looking straight into those eyes and hoping to speak directly to the intelligence there; trying to ignore the fact that he was feeling more than a bit intimidated and foolish. 'I - I hope you don't mind - '

Gala snorted, and Tylendel chuckled.'She says to tell you that she's been hoping I'd 'find a nice mate and give her a chance for a little peace' for a long time. She says it's altogether disconcerting to be sidling up to a handsome stallion and find me in her head asking for bedtime stories!'

That was the last response he'd expected. Vanyel choked down a laugh. ' 'Lendel, you didn't!'

He nodded, as Gala tossed her own head. 'I most certainly did, but only once. It was after Nevis, and I was,' he faltered, and looked to the side, 'rather lonely.'

Vanyel touched the hand still resting on Gala's neck. 'Not anymore, I hope.'