they have until well into spring. Pumping the bellows at the glassworks, Dean Elcarth has decreed, is to be their task.”
Mirilin smiled and winced at the same time. “Well—at the least, they’ll have stout muscles when spring comes.”
“Make the punishment fit the crime—I like that,” said the woman—not as young as Alberich had first thought. She wasn’t as old as Mirilin, but she was older than Alberich. “Are you the new Weaponsmaster, then?” She left Mirilin and approached Alberich, her hand extended, somewhat to Mirilin’s consternation. “Sorry I haven’t met you before this; I’ve been on one circuit or another for almost six years, and when I come in, I usually stay here rather than at the Collegium. When I’m off, I’m a bit of a carouser, and why disturb people’s sleep when I can have all the fun I like and not upset anyone down here? I’m Ravinia. Mindspeech and Animal Mindspeech.”
Alberich rose, took her hand, and bowed slightly over it. “And I am Alberich,” he told her, releasing it. “Foresight, for whatever good it does.”
She smiled at him. Mirilin was very clearly discomfited again. Perhaps because the lady he had come here to meet was being so very friendly to someone he—used to—not trust very much? “So you are indeed the very famous Herald Alberich; it’s a pleasure to meet you at last. Since I’m staying at least a moon this time, I expect you’ll see me at the salle. I could use some sparring practice; can you find me partners at short notice?”
:Is she flirting with me?: he asked Kantor incredulously.
:No. She really does need sparring practice. Find some of the mid-level Guards from Selenay’s bodyguard. Or Keren or Ylsa.: Kantor chuckled. :She’s not flirting; she’s being direct. And she doesn’t mistrust you. She hadn’t met you at a time when you were under suspicion. You are not Alberich of Karse to her; you are Herald Alberich.:
“You will welcome be, and partners can be found,” he replied, and decided to end Mirilin’s discomfort by taking himself off. “Rude I do not wish to seem, but my task and meal both being over, returning I must be.”
“Certainly,” Ravinia agreed. “I expect we’ll meet again in the next day or two.”
“Excellent.” He nodded at Mirilin. “And fare you well, in your afternoon’s tasks, Mirilin. Perhaps the heavy snow will thin the plaintiffs.”
Mirilin shrugged. “I wouldn’t count on it, but I wouldn’t be upset if you were right.” But there was a change in Mirilin. A subtle one, but there it was. Perhaps because, for the first time, he saw Alberich through the eyes of someone he trusted. And he saw the man before him as Herald Alberich.
Alberich took that as a dismissal, and took himself off, keeping his chuckle strictly internal. Well, well, well.
Of course, neither of them could know that he knew the two of them hadn’t just accidentally arrived at the Bell at the same time—but Mirilin suspected Alberich knew. And Alberich was never going to let on one way or another.
:They let the stablehands take their Companions in,: Kantor told him. :They had a great deal of—catching up to do.:
:Indeed,: Alberich replied. It was interesting that Mirilin was clearly embarrassed, but Ravinia was not.
:Shelteny says that Ravinia isn’t embarrassed by much,: Kantor observed dispassionately. :A very cool one, she says.:
:I can believe that.: Alberich paused at the door to swing his cloak over his shoulders, and pushed out into the stable yard. Snow was still falling, but at least it was not much more than token flakes, and a single stable boy with a broom was doing a reasonable job of keeping up with it. He crossed the yard and walked into the stables again, and a bay horse in the stall nearest the door peered over the side of the partition and snorted at him.
:I trust that the boys are already on their way back up to the Collegia?: he added.
:Halfway there, and just in time for their classes,: Kantor confirmed, as he picked up saddle and blanket from the side of the stall, and heaved them onto Kantor’s back. :Just about in the state of sore-muscled, worn-out wretchedness you’d hoped for. Not utterly miserable, certainly not feeling any desperation, but definitely feeling—chastised.:
:Good.: He didn’t want them to be desperate, but he wanted them to feel, well and truly, that they were being punished for making not one, but several bad decisions. Not the least of which was that they made the choice to act recklessly in a place where mistakes would be magnified. Elcarth had made an excellent decision as to their punishment, and he and the Dean of Bardic had made it crystal clear that the boys were being punished by their respective Collegia, not by Alberich alone.
