watching over you! She—: The Companion keened, a low, soft sound that broke Wil’s heart. :I killed her!:
Wil glanced at Kaylene. Alrek had not projected their conversation to her, for which Wil was grateful. As much as anyone could, he understood the why of it all now. But Kaylene did not need that burden.
Reaching out with his mind, Wil showed the grief-crazed Companion what he himself had Seen, night after night—what only a strange twist of Foresight could know. Threads of time not as they would be woven, but as they had been.
Elene in the water—fumbling for her belt knife—the weight of the log—sawing at the lead line until it broke —
The water carrying her away . . .
The Companion shuddered, then sighed. His head came to rest on the grass, his eyes closing.
“Go on,” Wil said, softly. “She’s waiting.”
With Vehs and Wil’s permission, Kaylene took a lock of Alrek’s white hair. She tucked it into the carved box, alongside Elene’s things.
All of Boarsden came to bury the Companion. The sun was heading for the west by the time Wil and Lelia left, the Bard riding behind him, thin arms circling his waist.
:Chosen,: Vehs said.
:Hm?:
:You should really visit your father sometime.:
Wil stiffened. :Maybe someday.:
“What’s wrong?” Lelia asked.
“Nothing,” Wil replied, making a conscious effort to relax his shoulders. “What are they feeding you in the Palace? Water and moonbeams? You’re practically all bones.”
“Moonbeams? Bright Lady, no. Too fattening.” But the jest sounded faltering at best, and he wondered.
They spent the night at the inn. Lelia was departing early. There was no talk of singing tonight; Wil had a feeling he wouldn’t need it anymore.
:How often does this sort of thing happen, Vehs?: Wil asked.
:A Companion surviving his Herald? Not often. The shock alone . . . I don’t know how Alrek endured it.:
:Promise me you wouldn’t do something like this. Please.:
Vehs went quiet. Then, :Do you jest? After putting up with a Chosen like you, I’ll be galloping for the Bright Havens when my time comes!:
Wil snorted, set his empty cup aside and headed for the stairs.
:That’s truly morbid.:
:Be glad I don’t take a head start!:
:Yes, yes,: Wil thought, smirking as he opened the door to his room. :I’m such a burden on—:
Lelia was curled up on his bed. She opened an eye as he entered and smiled.
Wil stood very still, finding it suddenly hard to breathe.
:Good night, “Vanyel,”: Vehs murmured.
“So. I was thinking,” Lelia said.
“Yes?” Wil managed.
Lelia pushed back the covers. “To the hells with our professional relationship.”
He groped for words and finally said, “This wasn’t what I meant by tucking me in.”
She laughed, and she was still laughing as he kicked the door shut behind him and went to her.
Keth’re’son shena Tale’sedrin was learning weapons work: the sword. This would have been useful to know for his journey to Valdemar, but his people were warriors from horseback and with the bow–not with the sword and dagger and on foot. He stepped aside from a sweep, blocked and countered, but his teacher parried that and beat back at him.
:But no knowledge is ever wasted, Chosen. You won’t always have a horse to hand. What if I were injured? Just because your people haven’t done something before, it doesn’t mean that it’s not a valid way to do things.:
Keth’ replied, :I know, “There is no one true way.” But it’s taking some getting used to. Traditions have always played a strong role in the life of a Shin’a’in; they had to.:
:Right now, you need to pay attention to your role here, or the weaponsmaster is going to give you the “traditional” bruises.:
:You know, I would probably be doing something like this at home as well. I wonder how Nerea is doing with her lessons; she was always better with the bow than me.:
:You miss her.:
:Did you really expect that to change? We are pledged. She’s why I work so hard at these lessons. I only hope that she’ll wait until I can return. I’m not sure she understood why I had to come up here when I wasn’t sure myself.:
Yssanda was silent.
“There’s a herd of horses in the Palace courtyard,” one guard said.
“Why is there a herd of horses in the courtyard?” asked the other.
“I don’t know, but isn’t that a Shin’a’in on the back of one of them?”
“Sure looks like it. Heya, it’s a girl! And look, she’s getting down.”
“Do you think we should tell somebody?”
Sergeant of the Guard Selwin spoke loudly behind them, “Yes, you halfwits, I think you should tell somebody! You, Rolin, go get Herald Captain Kerowyn. At a run! You, Vark, suggest to the young lady that she should stay outside the Palace door.”
“Yes, sir!” the two guards saluted in unison and moved with a sense of purpose.
Shaking his head, the young guard sergeant moved toward what seemed to be an escalating argument. The burly guard was having an increasingly difficult time with the slim Shin’a’in, who seemed determined to simply get through that door. He’d managed so far without actually laying a hand on her, but it didn’t appear that was going to last very much longer. She wasn’t so much aggressive as persistent.
Moving past the string of exceptionally quiet and serene horses, Selwin came within range of a contrastingly loud and agitated Shin’a’in girl.
“She doesn’t speak Valdemaran, sir!”
“I’m gathering that impression. Let’s see what I can do.” He strained to remember a bit of the language.
In very slow and careful Shin’a’in he said, “Please hold, coming someone who speaks language.”
The young girl nodded briskly and moved back to reassure her riding horse. Selwin wasn’t sure who needed the reassurance more, the horse or her.
Herald Captain Kerowyn didn’t take long to arrive, which was all to the better as far as Sergeant Selwin was concerned. He wasn’t a diplomat and very much preferred going back to his post near the main gates. He simply briefed Kerowyn on what had happened so far, saluted, and then gestured the guards to head back to the gate.
Striding forward, Herald Captain Kerowyn gave the impression of impatience. She didn’t hide it. It might help speed this encounter.
:What happened to Shin’a’in staying on the Plains, where they belonged?:
:What happened? The Mage Storms happened and erased the tasks the Shin’a’in had been given by their Star-eyed.:
Kerowyn really hadn’t needed the rejoinder to what had been a rhetorical question, but trust Sayvil to make sure her opinion was heard–needed or not.
“Welcome to Haven. I’m Herald Captain Kerowyn. What brings you here so far from the Plains?”
“My name is Nerea shena Tale’sedrin. I’m here looking for my pledged, Keth’re’son shena Tale’sedrin. The Clan Elders said that he had come up here for training in his ‘Gifts.’ ” Her skepticism in the need for such training was obvious. “They gave me permission to bring his Clan share up here to him when the Tale’sedrin came up for the Bolton Fair. Where is he?”
