and they'll turn you out. That is your Gift; this ability to make people feel what you want them to feel through music. And there are only three times it's permissible for you to use that Gift: when you're performing, when you're helping someone who needs help, and at the King's orders.'
'Yessir,' Medren whispered, head sunk between his shoulders, where he'd pulled it when Vanyel spoke of having his Gift blocked and being turned out of the Collegium. 'Nossir. I'll remember.'
'You'd better. On this, you get one chance. Now, come on, lad,' Vanyel said with a renewal of cheerfulness, urging Medren up out of his chair and propelling him out the door with a hand behind his shoulders. 'Time for you to show those plowhorse cousins of yours how a real fighter does things.'
Nine
They returned to his room after practice; Vanyel had thought to give Medren another music lesson, but even though he hadn't done any fighting, he realized as he directed Medren's movements that he was drained - and that was long before the practice was over.
Medren was no fool; he could see how exhausted Vanyel was. He suggested that the lesson be put off; he even offered to have servants bring Vanyel's dinner to his room.
Vanyel accepted both offers; he bolted the food as soon as the servant brought it, and threw himself facedown on his bed again with a groan. The bed had somehow been made up in his absence, despite all the hurly-burly in Treesa's bower. Baby Heralds wrecking rooms, adult Heralds making magic Gates and then falling through them half-dead, a possible war on the Border, and still somehow the beds get made. What a world.
He tried to think of what he would have done if Tashir hadn't run berserk, and realized he hadn't yet spoken with Yfandes. She probably knew what was going on, of course; since the moment he had first accepted the notion of becoming a Herald she had made a habit - which he encouraged - of eavesdropping on just about everything as a kind of silent observer in the back of his mind. He didn't in the least mind her using his eyes and ears; it saved a lot of explaining, and if there was something he didn't want her 'present' for, he'd tell her. But it was very rude of him not to have said something, at least in greeting, before this. He rolled over on his back and closed his eyes.
:'Fandes?: he called, tentatively. :I'm sorry - I got tangled - and then I fell on my nose for a while - and then I had a visit to make - and then I had a visitor myself.:
She chuckled. :So I saw. You’re forgiven.:
:Have you got anything for me? I'm sorry I made you run all the way home instead of taking the shortcut.:
:You're forgiven. And oddly enough,: she replied promptly, :I have got something for you. Brightest gods, let me tell you, it hasn't been the easiest information to obtain. And I am not sorry I was apart from you for a bit; I am very glad you were far away by the time you completed the Gate. I felt your pain quite enough as it was.: The love in her mind - voice softened her words. :The Young One - I have taken to calling him “Ghost,” for he has been haunting this place like the veriest spirit, never coming near enough to touch and only rarely to be seen, and frightening the farmers no end. He is quite closely locked into his Chosen's mind. I can speak with him, but only distantly; most of his attention and his concentration are with Tashir. But I can Mindtouch with him as you cannot his Chosen; Mindtouch does not frighten him. And so, because of the close bond between him and the youngling, I can sometimes pick up things as if I was in Mindtouch with Tashir.: Overtones of deep uneasiness. :The youngling is something less than steady; his mind is fragile and unbalanced. There are terrible things which haunt him, and which he fears to tell, and which he even blocks from his thoughts. Still. Ghost may yet balance him, if he can regain balance; the stallion is something of a MindHealer :
Vanyel sat bolt upright. :A MindHealer? A Companion? But -:
:It happens from time to time,: she interrupted, the overtones of her mind-voice telling him clearly that she was very reluctant to speak of it. :It happens when it is needed... Listen, I was in Mindtouch when the boy was making such a ruin of Treesa's bower, and I remained in touch. I saw what you only glimpsed. Here.:
It was a feeling she Sent, as well as an image. A feeling of profound trust, and the image of an older man, much like Jervis, in practice armor.
:Looks like Jervis may be our key,: Vanyel mused, lying back down again, and putting his hands behind his head. :Could that man have been Deveran's armsmaster?:
:I cannot tell you; that is all I could obtain,: she replied. :Tashir is much too traumatized for any questioning, I would say. He -: she slipped out of the link for a moment, then slipped back in again :- he is better, steadier, and Jervis is with him again. They are taking supper in the Great Hall, though with the servants, not the family. But I would not disturb him.:
