Storm Rising

'I shall; really, I think you're right. She certainly has no great admiration for her own kin.' He sighed. 'I just wish all the things I'm asked to settle were so easy to solve. Tomorrow I'm supposed to meet with the heads of nearly every sect and religion in Valdemar, and settle some disputes between the splinter sect of Vkandis that took root up here in Vanyel's time and some Sun-priests that came up from Karse during the war with Hardorn. I'm afraid I'm not going to make anyone happy with my decisions this time.'

An'desha made sympathetic noises. 'That is not something I would care to deal with. I remember—' He paused. 'I have noted that in matters of religion logic, facts, and reason bear little weight when measured against emotion. It does not matter what is, when people are convinced that the very opposite is what should be.'

'I wish that were less true. I could pile up a hundred facts in favor of a particular argument, and all would be dismissed in favor of 'but that is not what I believe.' I am afraid that my age is going to tell against me as well.' He eyed An'desha's silvering hair enviously. 'Perhaps I ought to have you impersonate me. Or better still, have Darkwind do it. They would respect silver hair more than black.'

'Oh, why not go the whole way and ask Firesong to do it?' An'desha laughed. 'I can just see the faces of those stolid priests as Firesong sweeps in, wearing his version of a Sun-priest's robes.'

'Oh, glory!' Karal had to laugh at that idea. Firesong's clothing was never less than flamboyant. 'And once he began to talk, he'd have them all so tangled in logic and illogic, and dogma and cant, that they wouldn't even remember their own creeds!'

'It is entirely likely,' An'desha agreed. 'And it is a pity you wouldn't dare. I believe he would probably have a wicked good time of it if you asked him to.'

'Now there is a 'White Demon,' for certain,' Karal chuckled. 'I think he gets more enjoyment out of twisting people around and playing with them than any other pursuit.'

'I would not say he is that manipulative,' An'desha temporized, 'But there is a streak in him that makes him want to prod at people simply to get a reaction, and the more dramatic, the better.'

'He certainly has a talent for drama, whether being at the center of it or inducing it,' Karal agreed, and sighed. 'Well, Florian seems to have solved the problem of how I am to remember who goes with what title tomorrow, so I shall be able to get a little rest tonight.'

'I came here thinking you would go to the Compass Rose with me,' An'desha said, looking hopeful. 'Don't you think that just for once the Court can do without you at dinner? They were baking sausage rolls at the Rose this afternoon, and I'm told that the new yellow cheese is excellent.'

'Demon! You know I'd do anything for good cheese and sausage rolls!' These were the closest foods Karal could find to the homey fare at the inn where he had grown up, and An'desha knew it. He cast an imploring glance at Florian. 'Could I be absent, just this once?'

Florian was not proof against what the Companion had called 'Karal's lost-puppy eyes.' With a shake of his head, Florian gave in without a fight. :I'll see that it's arranged,: he promised, :even if I have to tell an untruth and claim you're with me. But you'd better go now, or something else is likely to come up to prevent you from going at all.:

The Compass Rose was a tavern unlike any other in all of Haven, and possibly all of Valdemar. It wasn't so much the food—which was quite good, but by no means up to the demands of a gourmet—or the drink, which was just about average. It was the clientele.

The Palace grounds actually hosted three Collegia; Herald's, Bardic, and Healer's—but there was a fourth unofficial Collegium there as well. If one looked into almost any given classroom, there would be four uniform colors in evidence. A gray uniform meant that the student in question was a Herald-trainee, a rust-brown tunic identified a Bardic student, and a pale green robe betokened a fledgling Healer. But a blue uniform was an 'unaffiliated' student. More often than not these were merely the offspring of courtiers who preferred to have their families with them rather than back on the estate or holding. Classes at all three Collegia were open to them, and they were required in these days to wear a blue uniform, although that had not always been the case. But there was always a group of students who came from common blood, who were there at the Collegia, receiving the best education possible in Valdemar, because of merit or exceptional intelligence. They usually had a sponsor, either in the Court or one of the three Circles of Heralds, Bards, or Healers.

Most of these were divided into two groups; pure scholars and 'artificers.'

The latter were the people who would go out into Haven and beyond, to invent and build—bridges, mills, roads, cunning devices which would allow one to navigate or survey the land accurately—the list of possibilities was as endless as the imaginations of those who were doing the inventing.

And most of these spent their 'leisure' time at the Compass Rose.

So did their Masters, the teachers at the three Collegia, and those artificers who resided in Haven itself. And 'leisure' time was relative, for at any given moment in the Compass Rose you could find people working out the difficulties in the gears of a new mill or a student project—planning an irrigation system or arguing over the results of the last exam—