emotion, or social suggestion. Not only were these two from another culture, they’d grown up much faster. They were a strange mix of adult minds in juvenile spirits and bodies. He needed to talk to the envoy again.
Keth’ walked with Lo’isha, near Companion’s Field, with his own concerns. There were few people he could even begin to discuss this with.
“It’s aggravating,” Keth’ said. “All this past year, I’ve been told I must continue alone. I had accepted that —well, somewhat—but now she shows up here. Here. Halfway across the continent.”
The Shaman paused to study a flower. Keth’ was not interested in flowers.
“It should be flattering,” the Elder said.
“It is,” Keth’ agreed, quickly. “It’s also very inconvenient.”
“Not just for you.”
“I understand. But I want her to stay. I want to go home with her. So does she. I also do want to continue my studies. There’s so much to learn, and I’m improving.” He paused, unsure what to add.
“You are improving,” the Shaman assured him. “You also can’t control this situation. Unlike Mind-magic, this involves people’s intent. Even if you had that power, it would be unwise and unfair to use it.”
He nodded. That such might be possible was disturbing.
As to the matter at hand, he asked, “So who does control it? And what should I do?”
“We each control our own part, or we think we do. Eventually, each of us will find a path that fits the events.”
“That makes sense,” he agreed, and he did feel better. “I just wish it would hurry up.” He realized he was pacing back and forth as the Shaman strolled.
The Shaman said, “It is better that it take time. As to other things, I understand Nerea is taking language lessons?” He smiled with a twinkle.
“Yes, Clan k’Leshya also have given her lodging and some small allowance in exchange for stable work. I let her have a little of my own funds,” he admitted, blushing. “I do care for her.” She was so stubborn. Or not stubborn, but simply unswayable.
“There is no reason you shouldn’t,” the Shaman said.
“But they want me to become a Herald, and Heralds—”
“You are not yet a Herald, and you remain Keth’-re’son shena Tale’sedrin. Those are two more things that must be reconciled.”
“This doesn’t sound possible,” he said. He’d wanted reassurance. This was making him feel more depressed. He didn’t feel Shin’a’in, nor Valdemaran, nor even himself now.
“It is all possible, and we need not know how at this point. It will all resolve in time.”
“Thank you, Elder, I suppose.” He tried to smile. “Can you give me something more immediate and practical?”
“You are free for the day. Why not take your pledged into Haven? I’m sure she’d like to see more than stables.”
Lo’isha found himself quite busy. While he couldn’t fault Kerowyn for handing the problem off, and it did involve his people, it was quite an interesting one, with all that entailed.
“So, Teren, what are we to discuss today?” He took the empty chair and noticed it was a different one. The piles of parchment had moved.
“The same as we’ve discussed every day for the last two weeks. Nerea.”
“Yes, she’s quite the item.”
“A pest. Sweet, pretty, too clever for her own good, and a pest.” Teren twiddled a quill in his fingers.
“The language lessons?” he guessed.
“That, and still being here, and loitering around. I suggested she stay in Bolton. I offered to pay for quarters across town, to make some distance.”
“She would refuse, of course.”
“She did.” Yes, Teren was most agitated, and on such a fine day.
“Is she affecting his studies?”
“Not that I’ve noticed, and I’ve been watching. It is disruptive to others, though, on top of his existing differences as a foreigner.”
Lo’isha kept calm and reassuring. “Well, I should think that would be good for the other trainees. They’ll have to deal with such matters in the field, after all.”
“Indeed. I would just prefer their practice problems be more organized.”
“You can’t send her away,” he pointed out.
“I know.” Teren stood and looked out the window. “I’d hoped she’d get bored and leave, or he’d realize he’d grown apart from her. Something. If anything, they are reconnecting and throwing sand in everyone’s shoes.”
“Then perhaps now is a time to walk barefoot and enjoy the sensation.”
Teren said, “Walking barefoot also involves thorns.”
“Then walk carefully,” Lo’isha offered his friend with a smile. “I have a feeling these thorns will be trodden down by many feet.”
“Let me show you the city,” Keth’ said. While it wasn’t home, it was a fascinating place, and he was eager to introduce her to some of the more interesting foods.
“Whatever you like,” she said with a smile. It caught him off guard.
He offered an arm and led the way toward the horse and animal market, figuring to stop at the Compass Rose just beyond it. It wasn’t the cheapest, but it didn’t attract lowlifes, and the usual clientele wouldn’t be surprised to see a pair of Shin’a’in.
They were almost to the market when he realized why her smile had concerned him.
There was a glint.
They’d both grown in a year, and she felt like a part of him. Then he realized he felt the same way. Even if he did agree with the Collegium’s rules, and he’d only admitted to understanding them, this was something he wanted more.
“The Ashkevrons do have some fine horses,” Nerea said. “We have better, but not by much, and no others I’ve seen come close.”
“Well, they do buy ours and breed them.”
“Certainly, but it takes more than stock. It takes care and raising.” Her energy never faded. He’d always liked that.
There were a lot of horses here today. It must be some market day. There were wagons, carts, horses with pannier saddles, mounts for nobles and the wealthy, and draft horses for farmers. Some of the wagons contained oats, nuts, apples, and other fare meant for the animals, and several stores had displays of combs and brushes. There were also saddles, tack and clothes for riders, and even a carpenter’s display of stable making. The place smelled of fine horseflesh, and he enjoyed it.
“Some very fine creatures,” she said, smiling. She was relaxed, he realized, and comfortable for now. With food and fine weather, there was nowhere he’d rather be.
Which was odd; this place was not home. He could speak the language well enough to get by, but it still felt foreign.
Rather than ponder it, he decided to just enjoy the day. Her hand was warm as she clutched his. Her shoulder brushed him every couple of steps. He was comfortably fed and had no pressing worries for the day.
It was at that moment that the Star-eyed saw fit to give him pressing worries.
A cart-hitched horse suddenly stepped sideways, reared up, and came down in a limping gallop. His cart knocked a stall askew, spilled some contents—bags of feed—and rode over the collapsed legs of the vendor’s display.
The horse was clearly hurt, right rear leg tipping the ground as the rest clattered on the cobbles. People dove from its path, shouting and screaming. Other animals shied and whinnied, backed and sidled, until carts crashed and tangled in a huge mess. It would take hours to sort out. It had happened in moments.
The chaos spread as other horses and even smaller animals caught the whiff of panic. Their instincts fought their restraints, and the din of it all was astounding.
Then Nerea stepped into the street.
Keth’ knew what she intended and took a half step to grab her, then decided he would only make it worse.
