Meadow. Father seems to have accepted Meke's breeding program, although he's got his agent out looking for an alternative to that awful stud Meke bought. But Medren - Savil, I know what you're thinking, you're thinking I'm overreacting to seeing another lad in the same position I was in. You didn't see that monster bruise he showed up with. He's not getting love-pats. That bruise was the size of my spread hand, finger-tip to thumb-tip, easily.'
'Huh,' Savil replied, frowning in thought.
'And to make it worse, Meke told me Jervis wants to - I quote-'go a few rounds with me.' To spar.' Vanyel snorted. ' 'Spar' indeed. It'll be a cold day -'
She nodded. 'Probably a damned good idea to avoid him. He'll push you, Van; he'll push you all he can.'
'And I've just spent the last year on the Border.'
'Exactly. If he pushed you too far - well, you know that better than me. Kellan, can you and 'Fandes kindly wait until you're loose for the chatter and gossip? We're trying to have a serious briefing here.'
Vanyel chuckled. :Trading stories about the muscular, young courier - types?:
:Shut up and ride.:
Vanyel caught Savil's eye, and they exchanged a look full of irony. 'I can see,' she said aloud, 'that this is going to be a very-lively-visit.'
Six
'The argument had been in full flower since Vanyel had arrived at the stable, and from all that he could tell it had evidently begun (well fertilized with invective) long before then. The stable was a good fifty paces from the keep itself, but the voices reached with unmistakable clarity well beyond the stable. The stablehands were doing their best to pretend they weren't listening, but Vanyel could all but see their ears stretching to catch the next interchange.
Havens, Savil has a strong set of lungs!
'Now listen, you stubborn old goat -'
'Stubborn!' The indignation in Withen's voice was thick enough to plow. 'You're calling me stubborn? Savil, that's pot calling kettle if I ever -'
'- and provincial, hidebound, and muddle - headed to boot!'
Vanyel smothered a grin and kept the movement of the brush steady along Yfandes' glossy flank. She sighed with contentment and leaned into each stroke.
:Feel good?:
:Wonderful. All Companions should choose musicians; you have such talented hands. Speaking of which -: She flicked an ear at the open window through which Savil and Withen's argument was coming so very clearly.
:Music to my ears. If he's yelling at Aunt Savil, he can't be yelling at me. You’re looking better. Those hollows behind your withers are gone. And your coat is much healthier.: He paused for a moment to admire the shine.
:I'm recovering faster than you are.: She swung her head around to fix him with a critical blue eye. :Are you getting enough sleep?:
:If I slept any longer, I'd wake up with headaches.: He turned his mental focus up toward that open window, avoiding any more of Yfandes' questions.
The fact was, he didn't know why he was still sleeping so long, and tiring so easily. He always felt hollow, somehow, as if there were an enormous empty place inside him that he couldn't fill. But he had recovered enough that all the problems, major and minor, were starting to make him feel restless because he couldn't do anything about them.
Other problems were starting to eat at him, too.
Shavri; I like her-too much? Gods. I must think about her and Jisa every night. I loved 'Lendel. I know I loved him. But have I let Shavri get into me deeper than I'd thought? Gods, she's Randi's lifebonded. He must be my best friend in the world next to Savil. She's one of my best friends. How can I even be thinking this? Gods, gods. Am I really
