The footsteps had entered the chapel, and Lena had heard a thud as their owner collapsed onto a bench near the back of the chapel. Now she could hear weeping, the choked sobs of a grown man trying unsuccessfully not to cry. Without raising her bowed head, she cast her eyes sideways. It was Lord Teren, Kristion’s best friend—the man who had killed him.
Lena had heard enough of the talk when they brought the body home to know that the death had been a tragic accident. The men had become separated in the woods, and the arrow that Lord Teren loosed had not been intended to lodge in the heart of his best friend. She could understand his grief, and she sympathized slightly—though I still think it’s stupid and dangerous to loose an arrow when you are not absolutely certain of your target. And I don’t think there’s any god that will help you if Lady Shantell finds you here . . .
Naturally, that was exactly what happened. Shantell had awakened at dawn, as she usually did, and her first act was to come to the chapel to pray. She didn’t see Lord Teren at first, so she started by scolding Lena for bringing the dogs into the chapel. “I’m sorry,” Lena murmured and then stopped talking, knowing that no defense could possibly appease Shantell. :Go outside and hide where nobody will see you,: she directed, and the dogs slipped down the side aisle of the chapel and out though the door that Shantell had left ajar.
Shantell, turning her head as they moved, saw Lord Teren and started screaming again, but unlike yesterday her screaming had words. “You murderer! How dare you show your face here?
“Shantell,” he began, “I am so sorry—”
“You killed my husband!”
“It was an accident—”
“You enjoy killing, you and those damned dogs!”
“If having the dogs here is distressing to you, Shantell, I can remove them to my estate so you won’t have to see them again.”
Shantell’s voice dropped from a scream into something that Lena found much more frightening; it was cold, hard, and intense. Each syllable was precisely enunciated as she said, “I will have every single one of them killed before I allow you to profit by what you’ve done.” She turned on her heel and stalked out of the chapel.
Lena sank back onto the bench and shivered uncontrollably. She means it, she realized. She really will kill them. She thinks of them as dumb animals, and technically they’re property . . .
“Lord Teren?” she asked timidly.
He looked at her in surprise. “What is it, uh—”
“Lena,” she supplied, not surprised that he’d forgotten her name with all that was going on. “What did she mean by ‘profit’?”
“Greyhounds, especially trained hunting dogs, are valuable animals,” he said with a sigh. “But if she thinks I’d kill anyone, let alone my best friend, just to get his dogs, she’s . . .” he faltered, apparently unable to come up with any description he considered acceptable.
“—crazed with grief,” Lena finished for him. It was a condition she understood. She didn’t remember her mother much, but she had adored her father, and her initial reaction to his death had been very similar to Shantell’s. She had screamed wordlessly for at least half an hour. And if I’d known what life was going to be like with my brother as my guardian, I’d probably have screamed even longer. “Can she really have the dogs killed?” she asked anxiously. “Do they belong to her now?”
“I believe that Kristion’s will leaves them to Jasper.”
“But Jasper’s a child, so he doesn’t get to make decisions.” Another subject I know about. “Who is his guardian?”
Lord Teren looked sick. “God help us all; I am.” He buried his face in his hands. Lena wasn’t sure whether he was praying, crying, or both. She sat in uncomfortable silence until the steward arrived to take over the vigil and then quietly left the chapel.
She wasn’t hungry, so instead of going in search of breakfast she went to the kennels. The Kennelmaster was there, but the dogs who had been in the chapel with her were not. The only dogs in the building were Minda, a female who had just given birth, and her six puppies. To Lena’s surprise, Jasper knelt next to them, sobbing disconsolately.
“I’m sorry, Jasper,” she said, starting to express condolences on the death of his father, but he turned at the sound of her voice and flung both arms around her legs, almost knocking her to the floor.
“Make her stop!” he begged.
“Make who stop what?”
Over Jasper’s sobs, the Kennelmaster explained, looking both ill and ill-at-ease. “Lady Shantell stormed in here about half an hour ago and ordered me to kill all of Lord Kristion’s dogs. Jasper had come down to look at the puppies, so he heard her.”
“Oh, lord.” Lena detached Jasper’s arms, sat down on the floor, and put her arms around him as he crawled into her lap. She looked up at the Kennelmaster. “Are you planning to obey her right away?”
“I’m hoping she’ll calm down and rescind the order.”
“Even if she doesn’t,” Lena pointed out, “does she have the legal authority to give that order? The dogs may belong to Jasper; nobody knows until Lord Kristion’s will is read. If they are Jasper’s, it’s pretty clear that he doesn’t want them killed. Also, the dogs are valuable, aren’t they?”
“Yes,” the Kennelmaster said. “There are people willing to pay large sums for the puppies, and the trained dogs are worth even more.”
“So even if Lady Shantell is Jasper’s guardian, and we don’t know that she is, killing the dogs would not be in his best interests from a financial standpoint, let alone an emotional one.” I’m glad I was paying attention during those classes on Kingdom law. “So, if I were you, I’d keep stalling. Maybe we can get a ruling from the local Magistrate—who is that, anyway?”
“Lord Teren,” Jasper mumbled into her shoulder.
“I don’t think your mother is listening to him right now,” Lena said ruefully. She looked around innocently. “Where are the rest of the dogs?”
The Kennelmaster frowned. “I don’t know. Someone came in and let them out during the night.”
“I let them out,” Lena said. No point in lying about that, even if I wanted to—Shantell saw them with me. “They were restless, so I took them with me when I went to the chapel for my share of the vigil. Then Lady Shantell came in and yelled because they were there, so I sent them outside. But if you can’t find them, you can’t kill them.”
“Good,” the Kennelmaster said. “Just as long as they stay safe wherever they are.” He sighed. “Where’s a Herald when you need one?”
That’s a really good question. Lena looked down at the child in her lap. “Jasper, have you had breakfast?” He shook his head. “Let’s go to the kitchens and see if we can find something to eat. Things probably won’t seem quite so bad when we’re not facing them with an empty stomach.”
After making sure that Jasper ate and escorting him back to the nursery, Lena slipped out of the house, avoiding both Shantell and the servants, and made her way unseen into the forested portion of the estate. I should be safe enough; I’m pretty sure that nobody is going to be hunting here today. She sat down on what passed for a comfortable boulder and cautiously opened her mind to the animals in the vicinity.
The dogs were the first to respond. In moments she was surrounded by the entire pack.: Home?: they asked.
:Too dangerous.: She sent an image of Shantell’s raging and the Kennelmaster looking sick at the thought of killing them. :Can you find enough food here?:
:Lots of rabbits. And deer.: With the discipline she had learned at the Temple, Lena ignored the images that accompanied the replies. Fortunately she had never kept rabbits as pets, and Maia, a fellow Novice who also had Animal Mindspeech and had taught Lena much of what she knew, had grown up next to the Forest of Sorrows, so Lena had some experience with how animals who were not being fed by humans regarded meals. Thinking of Maia reminded her of the crows. Maia had brought a group of them (“a storytelling of crows,” she had called them) to the Temple with her
—or, more accurately, they had chosen to accompany her. If they liked you, they would do you favors, like following someone and reporting back on what they did. Maia had taught Lena how to talk to them, and Lena was pretty sure that at least a few of them had followed her on her journey. She reached out with her mind . . .There!
The crows were not nearby, and she didn’t want to consider what they were eating, so she sent a mental picture of a Herald and Companion, along with :where?: and the emotion of needing help. Several crows lifted up above the treetops to scan the surrounding countryside, and Lena settled down to wait, petting the dogs as they leaned against her legs.
Between using her Gift and stroking canine fur, Lena was half in a trance, so she wasn’t surprised when, some unknown amount of time later, a Herald appeared in her vision. The Herald looked startled, as anyone would be when a crow flew directly toward her face, but even through the crow’s eyes Lena recognized her. Samira was one of the Heralds Lena knew well, and her Companion, Clyton, even deigned to speak to Maia on rare occasions, so it was possible that he might be able to hear her. Lena tried to reach his mind, but apparently they were too far away. Samira, however, was a friend of Maia’s, so it didn’t take her long to realize what a crow behaving unusually in this area must mean.
“Lena? If you can hear me, you’ll know that we’re on our way.” Then Clyton moved so fast that he was a white streak passing the crows who perched in the trees above him. Lena looked through their eyes as they rose to fly back long enough to figure out what route Samira and Clyton were taking. Then she pulled her concentration back into her body, rose to her feet, and headed through the forest toward the road so that she could intercept Samira before she rode into the chaos of the household unprepared.
Clyton almost charged right past her despite the fact that Lena was standing alone in the middle of the road. She had persuaded the dogs to stay out of sight in the woods.
“What’s going on, Lena?” Samira asked. “Are you all right?”
“Pretty much,” Lena replied, “but Lord Kristion is dead, and things are not going well.”
“What happened to him?” This was Samira’s current Circuit, so she knew that Lord Kristion had been young and healthy.
“He went out hunting with his best friend a couple of days ago . . .” Lena took a deep breath and blurted out the rest: “Lord Teren shot him by accident, and Lady Shantell called Lord Teren a murderer, and now she’s ordered the Kennelmaster to kill all of the dogs, and Jasper’s really upset about that.”
Samira pinched the spot where her nose met her forehead as if the muscle had gone into spasm and shook her head. “Are you sure it was an accident?”
“Lord Teren says it was, the servants who were with him say it was, and the dogs say it was. I believe them.”
“What does the Magistrate say?”
“Apparently Lord Teren is the Magistrate.”
“Yes, that’s right; he is.” Samira sighed. “Why does Lady Shantell want to kill the dogs?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because she can’t kill Lord Teren?” Lena shrugged. “It’s too bad her religion isn’t one of the ones that teaches forgiveness of one’s enemies.”
Samira looked at her oddly. “It does teach that.”
“Are you sure? She certainly isn’t acting like it, and she scolded me for worshiping Thenoth. And her own son seems to believe she’ll kill the dogs; he was out in the kennels crying over them this morning.”
“The dogs are still in the kennels?” Samira raised her eyebrows. “Knowing you, I’m surprised there’s a dog on the estate she can still find.”
“Minda just had puppies; they can’t be moved. The rest aren’t there. The Kennelmaster doesn’t want to follow Shantell’s orders, and if he can’t find the dogs, he can’t kill them.”
“I’m sure he appreciates your help,” Samira said dryly.
“He seems to, actually. I also pointed out that there may be legal questions—the dogs may belong to Jasper instead of Shantell, and her husband may have named someone else as Jasper’s guardian.”
“That’s a good argument,” Samira admitted. “How likely is it?”
“Lord Teren said that Lord Kristion had named him.”
Samira groaned. “I can tell that this is going to be complicated.” She and Clyton started forward at a walk that Lena could easily keep pace with. “Let’s go face the noise.”
:Stay in the woods,: Lena told the dogs as she accompanied Samira and Clyton toward the main entrance to the estate.
“Have they set a time for the funeral yet?” Samira asked.
“This afternoon.”
“It is afternoon,” Samira pointed out. “When this afternoon?”
Lena cast an anxious look at the angle of the sun. “The ninth hour,” she said in a small voice.
“Less than an hour from now. I need to wash and change into a clean uniform, and you look as though you dressed in the dark and then spent the day in the kennels and the woods.”
“I did.”
Samira’s eyes closed briefly and then opened again. Apparently she had been Mindspeaking to Clyton, because he stopped long enough for Samira to reach down, grasp forearms with Lena, and swing her onto Clyton’s back. “What’s the fastest way to reach the stables without Lady Shantell seeing us?”
They left Clyton being rubbed down by the Stablemaster, and Lena turned Samira over to the housekeeper to be shown to a guest room. Then she ran for her room, washed in the now-cold water that someone had left out for her that morning, and pulled on a dress that was suitable for the funeral. She slipped quietly into the chapel, aided by the fact that most of the household was gathered there. Samira, resplendent in the dressy version of her Whites, was seated in the front next to Shantell and Jasper. Lord Teren was in the back of the chapel, trying to be invisible. Either he succeeded or Shantell didn’t deign to notice him, and the funeral service and the burial that followed it went as well as could be expected.
After the funeral, it was customary to read the will. They gathered in the library: the priest, who had charge of the document; Lady Shantell; Jasper, who despite his young age was now Lord Jasper; Samira; Lena, partly because Jasper wanted her there and partly because Samira had requested her as a neutral high-born witness; and Lord Teren. Shantell protested his inclusion, but the priest told her it was needful, and her piety—at least for the moment—overcame her wrath.
The moment ended abruptly when she discovered that her husband had named Lord Teren to be Jasper’s guardian. “Should my son be forced to face his father’s murderer?” she demanded indignantly.
The priest said something about forgiveness; Lena couldn’t make out the exact words, because Samira’s voice overrode his.
“Normally we could ask the local Magistrate to hear this case,” she started, but Shantell interrupted her.
“He’s the Magistrate!” she exclaimed passionately. “Do you think he’ll rule justly on his own actions?”
“That’s why Valdemar has Heralds,” Samira reminded everyone. “I ride this Circuit so that I can hear cases where normal practice cannot be used, and I believe that this one qualifies. Does anyone disagree?”
Shantell fell silent.
Lord Teren spoke sadly. “I yield this case to your judgment, Herald Samira. I agree that I am not the person to rule on it, being involved myself.”
“Please,” Jasper added. “Everyone’s so angry, and they keep yelling.”
The priest nodded agreement. “Obviously this was not the situation Lord Kristion envisioned when I drew up his will.”
“Very well,” Samira said. “Lord Teren, are you willing to answer the accusation of murder under Truth Spell?”
“Absolutely.” Lord Teren looked grim but not at all afraid.
Samira cast the Truth Spell, and Lena watched with fascination as a blue glow appeared over Lord Teren’s head.
“Who went hunting with you and Lord Kristion?”
“In addition to the tw
o of us, there were three servants and seven hunting dogs.”
“Was it your arrow that shot him?”
“Yes.” His voice held anguish, but the blue glow remained steady.
“Did you intend to shoot him?”
“No. Never. We became separated in the woods, and I had no idea that he had circled around so that he was opposite me. The servants were with me, so they didn’t know either.”
“What was he wearing?”
Teren looked blank. “I don’t remember.”
Lena must have made some sound, for Samira looked at her. “Do you know what he was wearing, Lena?”
“Yes.” And it was one of the most stupid things anyone could wear to go hunting. “Brown boots, brown pants, and a deerskin jacket.”
Samira looked at her incredulously. “Deerskin? Are you positive of that?”
I certainly can’t blame her for not believing me.
“That’s correct,” the priest said. “I saw his body when it was brought home, and that’s what he was wearing.”
Samira managed to refrain from comment on Lord Kristion’s clothing choices. “Lord Teren, do you swear that your shooting of Lord Kristion was accidental and that you had no reason or desire to kill him?”
“I do so swear.”
Despite the steady glow of the Truth Spell, Shantell cried out “That’s not true! He wanted the dogs! He said so, this morning in the chapel!”
“That’s not what I said!” Lord Teren protested.
“Was anyone else in the chapel with you?” Samira asked.
Teren pointed at Lena. “She was.”
I think he forgot my name again.
“Lena?” Samira asked. “What did they say?”
As Lena opened her mouth to answer, Samira held up a hand. “Wait. I’m going to put a Truth Spell on you before you answer.”
Lena nodded her consent and sat quietly until Samira gestured her to continue. “Lady Shantell came in at dawn, near the end of my vigil. Lord Teren had come in earlier and was sitting near the back of the chapel. When she saw him, she called him a murderer. He said it was an accident, and she said that he enjoyed killing—he and the dogs. What he said then was that if having the dogs here was distressing to her, he could remove them to his estate so that she wouldn’t have to see them. Then she said that she’d have every single one of them killed before she’d let him profit—and then she went to the Kennelmaster and ordered the dogs killed.”
Under The Vale And Other Tales Of Valdemar v(-105 Page 8