Owlknight

to turn me down, so they go ahead and do what I ask even though they don’t want to - ”

“Then it’s their job to grow a stronger spine.” As far as she was concerned, that was the end of that argument. “And here we are, wasting a perfectly lovely evening by agonizing over things that haven’t ever happened! I can think of much better things to do with our time.”

She hadn’t expected an immediate response, but she was very pleased when she got one. “So can I,” he replied, and turned so that she was no longer resting on his shoulder so that he could kiss her.

Her body began to tingle pleasantly as he prolonged the kiss, nibbling delicately on her lip as she responded. She shifted a little so that she could put both her arms around him, losing herself in sensation. Meeren will see that the “privacy” sign is set up by the time we need it, she thought - and gave herself up to loving.

Five

Darian stepped back from the golden-oak wall panel he’d been holding up, and admired all of the new hertasi-work ornamenting the Companion stables. The structure was finished just in time. Thank goodness for gryphons. If we hadn’t had warning, we could have been caught in mid- addition.

For the past several days, especially swift gryphons had been patrolling the main road to Errold’s Grove, on the watch for the approaching Heralds; even at the speed a Companion moved, a gryphon in the air traveled faster. A rough calculation gave them about a day’s warning before the visitors arrived. Last night the two had finally been spotted just before sunset, and the gryphon in question, a gyrfalcon-type with amazing speed, had come rushing back to the Vale as fast as she could with the news. She was exhausted when she arrived, but two more gryphons had been eager to take the news to Errold’s Grove and Lord Breon’s Keep, giving everyone advance notice that their very special guests were soon to appear.

The basic structure of the attachment to the guest lodge meant to house the Companions had been finished quite quickly, but Ayshen (no mean architect) had planned for the ornamentation and elaboration to be completed in stages. No matter when the new residents arrived, the stables would appear finished. The first change had been to the fountain that supplied fresh running water; the initial installation had been a simple trough with water constantly flowing through it running along the rear of all three stalls. Utilitarian, but not very impressive; certainly not Tayledras. “There is power in style,” was all Ayshen would say concerning the redesign. Now each of the three stalls held a separate handsome terracotta basin, with a constant flow of fresh, clean water bubbling up from the bottom and drained by a pipe just beneath the rim at the rear. Outside, the pipes joined into one, which drained into an ornamental pond. Ayshen figured the fish wouldn’t mind secondhand water.

The second change had been to add separate mangers for different sorts of foodstuffs; a hay rack just for hay, and smaller mangers and basins for oats, sweet-feed, and hot mashes. The hay rack had been fastened at the front of the stable for all three to share, but each stall had its own “special treat” containers; the latter were actually more terracotta basins which fitted into twisted-wire racks. The basins were removable, so that they could be taken away to be cleaned after use. The old wooden mangers that served for all food and were not removable for cleaning had been left in place, but trimmed with braided rope.

Then the dirt floor was replaced with brick, laid over a layer of gravel, over which in turn first sawdust, then clean straw was spread. Since Companions weren’t horses, a “latrine stall” with a slanted brick floor was added, with a sluice to wash the waste away, and a drain to carry the waste to the waste tanks to be purified and turned into fertilizer. The Companions themselves could operate the sluice with a pull-rope, as they would be able to open all doors with a pull-latch and could come and go as they liked.

The last set of improvements was to give the place ornamentation; paneled woodwork, carvings along the beams, shelves and a proper tack room. Whenever Darian found himself with a moment to spare, he’d gone to help the building crew, and he’d been holding a wall panel in place when the news had come that the Heralds were within a few hours of arrival.

I’d be perfectly happy to live here, he thought, looking around at the fine carvings, the solid appointments, the beautifully made door into the guest lodge itself, which was actually a double door. It was a regular door divided in half, so that the upper half could be left open for the Companions to stick their heads into the room.

“You’ve done a terrific job, friends,” he said aloud to the crew of hertasi picking up their tools. “I can’t see anything that could be improved upon.”

One of the nearest looked up at him. “I can,” the hertasi responded. “And if I can, you know that Ayshen will, too.”

“This is better and far more gracious than anything outside of Haven,” he told the hertasi firmly. “I’ll tell Ayshen that myself. Besides, I think any further changes ought to be made after you consult with the Companions themselves, not before.”

The hertasi, who appeared to be the work-crew chief, looked around, and nodded after a moment. “You’re probably right,” it admitted. It (it was usually impossible for humans to tell which hertasi was male and which female) stowed the last of its tools in its toolbox, then bent and picked up the heavy box as easily as if it had weighed no more than a basket of eggs. The other