Changes

And then—

In desperation, the Fetching Trainee broke free. The ball popped straight up into the air.

But Pip was already on it, standing up in his stirrups as his Companion managed to simultaneously scramble toward the midair ball and keep Pip steady. Pip hit it with a mighty backhanded swing, while the Riders mobbed the Fetcher.

The ball arrowed toward Mags.

Mags saw two things simultaneously, as time seemed to slow to a crawl. He could make the same swing and had even odds of getting it to the goal.

But Halleck was in the clear, with a better shot. The odds were in favor of Halleck.

::Halleck!:: he shouted, ::Ball!:: And he stood in his stirrups and gave the ball a second whack, sending it screaming toward Halleck as three of the four West Trainees barreled toward him, grimly, intent on stopping him. They were too late, but they had too much momentum pull up or change direction.

He and Dallen were hit by three Companions with only a moment to prepare. Instead of bracing, Dallen was scrambling backward when they were hit, with Mags clinging to his back like a burr.

Dallen scrabbled and nearly went over sideways; he saved them both with a catlike twist of his body, scrabbled a bit more as dust rose about them in a cloud, and fetched up against one of the drop-offs, which was all that saved them from going over. Meanwhile, the roar of the crowd signaled that Halleck had made the goal and the shrill whistles of the referees signaled the end of the game.

::Ow,:: Dallen said, sitting down abruptly. Mags leaped from the saddle. ::I think I pulled my offside hock.::

The Companion stood up, gingerly, put a little weight on the hoof, and winced. ::Definitely. Ow.::

But a Healer Trainee was already jumping down off the top of the drop-off. He must have jumped onto the field as soon as Dallen felt the first twinge of pain. “Easy on there, old man,” the fellow said cheerfully. “Give me a moment.”

The Healer wrapped both his hands around the injured leg as Mags fidgeted anxiously. Dallen’s sigh of relief was echoed by his Chosen.

“Put a little weight on it, old man.” the youngster told him. “See if it will bear being walked on.”

Dallen did as he was told. ::Tell him it hurts, but I’ll be able to get up to Companions’ Stable under my own power. And thank him.::

Mags did so, adding his own thanks. The Healer waved it off.

“Just stay off it as much as you can for the next two days. I’ll come by for another treatment or two barring any emergencies coming up.”

Mags never got a chance to thank him a second time; he vanished into the mob that poured over the field to hoist Halleck onto their shoulders.

“I saw what you did, “ Gennie told him with a grin, walking up to him with her own Companion trudging beside her. “You could have taken the shot and been the hero of the game, but you didn’t.”

He shrugged. “Got ’nough just bein’ in the game.”

Dallen snorted impolitely. ::I’ll just get up to the stable then,:: he said with great irony, and turned slightly to limp his way past them.

Mags laughed. “Ye think we’ll get i’ trouble fer Corwin’s lark?”

Gennie shook her head, the action mimicked by her Companion. “There were no rules against putting an illusion of a player on the field, only against sending in an extra. Remember, these are war games. We’ll get faintly praised for thinking of something new, faintly damned for scraping so close to cheating, and they’ll make a rule against getting help from off the field that isn’t a Healer or a runner. Now we had better go see to our Companions and get cleaned up and changed and out there—” she waved her hand vaguely at the rest of the Collegia. “We need to go be Halleck and Corwin’s ever-so-modest teammates.”

Mags nearly choked on his laughter, coughing so that Gennie had to pound on his back, and when he had recovered, they followed in Dallen’s limping wake.

Chapter 2

Mags was scarcely likely to let Dallen limp his way up to the Companion’s Stable alone, nor leave him in the hands of the hostlers, no matter how competent they were. He saw to Dallen’s comfort himself, of course, making sure he got a good rubdown before he went off himself to a cold-water wash under the pump—anything but a hardship in this blistering heat—and a change into clean Trainee Grays. He stripped as close to bare as he could get and did the job thoroughly. Every bit of him was itchy with drying sweat.

The grounds of the Palace had been cordoned off quite properly, and only those who actually lived within the Palace walls were being allowed to get past the watchful eyes of Guardsmen who knew them all by name. But the rest of the grounds had the atmosphere of a fair. This was aided and abetted by the food and drink tents and the various demonstrations by Trainees of all three Collegia. There was a big official Bardic concert scheduled for the last event of the day, but there were Bardic Trainees scattered all across the grounds, alone or in groups, happily showing off their prowess. The game had been the big event for the Herald Trainees, but quite a few of them were ambling about the lawns with their Companions, making themselves available for questions. And as for the Healers—Healers’ Collegium had an open clinic, where anyone could come for treatment; simple cases were treated by the Trainees, more complicated ones by the Healer teachers. And many of the Healer Trainees had little booths set up to teach people about the signs of various illnesses in humans or animals and how to prevent as much disease as possible.

Mags’ best friend Bear had one of these booths, demonstrating the use of his standard herb kit. It had been very popular all this week; it made sense to people that there were things they could do for themselves, and some parents and relatives of Trainees had come from places where there simply wasn’t a Healer nearby. These were the very people who needed Bear’s instruction the most.