She was unable to come up with one. She'd been put directly under Kerowyn's command this week, in lieu of the 'usual' duties of a Herald. Those 'usual' duties-riding circuit on a Sector, acting as lawbringer, occasional judge, paramilitary advisor, and general troubleshooterbrought a Herald into areas of significant risk-risk the Council was not willing to take with the Heir to the Throne.
So her assigned duty at the moment consisted of doing whatever Herald Kerowyn told her to do. She'd assumed her tasks would be things like acting as an assistant trainer, perhaps. Learning command tactics.
Perhaps even acting as liaison between Kerowyn's mercenary Company and the Council.
Especially since the Council members still weren't certain what to do with a mercenary Captain who was also a Herald.
These were all things she knew how to do-or at least make a start on. After all, those were the kinds of things Heralds were supposed to do. They were not supposed to be repairing armor.
'Yes, but-' she repeated weakly, not knowing what else to say.
'You don't happen to think you're too good to repair armor...' Kerowyn's tone held a certain silky menace that told Elspeth that someone had given Herald Kerowyn chapter and verse on the ill-tempered Royal Brat. Of course, the Brat was a phase she had long ago outgrown, but some people couldn't seem to forget that stage of her life.
'No!' she said hastily. 'But-'
'But why do I want you to repair armor-especially when it's someone else's job?' Kerowyn unbent enough to smile and shifted her weight to her right foot. 'Let's play 'just suppose' for a moment. Let's suppose you are-for some reason-out in the back of beyond. Not even alone.
We could have a situation like the one that brought me up here in the first place-where you're with a fighting force, maybe even in command, but there aren't any armorers around.' She gestured at the pile of leather in Elspeth's arms. 'Your gear gets damaged, and there's nobody free to fix it. What are you going to do, wear something with a weak spot and hope nobody notices? Hope you can find somebody to fix it before the next engagement?'
'Did you ever have to fix your own gear?' Elspeth countered. She had so been looking forward to a free afternoon.
'I assume you mean after I made Captain?' The Herald laughed out loud, displaying a fine set of strong, white teeth. 'My dear child, the Skybolts were so badly off that first year that I helped make armor. And arrows and lances and even some horse-gear. No, dear, you aren't going to wiggle out of this one. Leather armor isn't that hard to repair; merely time-consuming. So I suggest you get to it. As for how, you take apart everything that doesn't look solid and replace it.' The former-and currentCaptain of 'Kerowyn's Skybolts' nodded her blonde head emphatically and turned away toward the heap of practice armor that had been tossed into the 'needs repair' pile.
Resigned to the situation, Elspeth watched Kero toss her blonde braid over her shoulder, thought of her own dull brown hair, and sighed a little enviously. If I weren't the Heir, nobody would ever pay any attention to my looks. Mother is gorgeous, the twins are adorable, my stepfather is the handsomest man at Court-and I'm the little brown sparrow. why couldn't I have been born looking like her?
Kerowyn was certainly an amazing person. Lithe, strong, and with a face even her critics had to call 'striking,' she would have had dozens of suitors if it hadn't been for the fact that she and Herald Eldan discouraged even the most persistent with their devotion to one another.
The Captain had been blessed with a head of hair as bright as newminted gold and thick as a horse's tail. And despite the fact that she was literally old enough to be Elspeth's mother, it showed no sign of graying.
Whatever Kerowyn's past life had been like, it had left no outward marks on her. And from the stories Kero had told over the past few years, she'd been through enough to gray the hair of four women.
For that matter, her present was just as hectic, and it hadn't left that much of a mark on her. She juggled two dedications, Herald and mercenary Captain, either one of which would have been a full-time career for anyone else.
And there are plenty of folk who think she should stick to one or the other... Elspeth smiled to herself. Those were the same folk who were mightily annoyed that the Herald Captain wouldn't wear Whites unless it was ordered by the Queen herself. She compromised-if one could call it that-by wearing the same kind of dark gray leathers the Weaponsmaster favored. And the Queen smiled and held her peace. Like Alberich, Kerowyn was a law unto herself.
'Besides, you have all the resources of the armory at your disposal,' Kerowyn said over her shoulder, as she hefted another corselet in need of repair-this one of metal scale, a mending task Elspeth didn't even want to think about. 'You wouldn't have that in the field. Be grateful I don't demand that you fix it with what folks carry in their field kits.' Elspeth bit back a retort and spread the shirt out over the bench she was sitting on, giving the armor the kind of careful scrutiny she imagined Kero must have.
Well, it isn't as bad as I thought, she decided, after a second examination proved that some of the worst places had already been repaired.
