Under The Vale And Other Tales Of Valdemar v(-105

by Mercedes Lackey

  “Decent of ’em,” someone at the back shouted.

  “Only ’cause it was empty,” Jakon groused.

  “Only ’cause you’re scared of Holly Poll.”

  The laughter erupted again.

  “One count of burglary at the Hillman Mill,” Sergeant Jons continued in a louder voice. “Caught in the act. Silly fool was trying to lead out two donkeys at once with predictable results. Apparently he’ll be in hospital for another day or two.” He gave an unsympathetic sniff before continuing.

  “Five counts of public drunkenness. Two of the combatants became . . .” He lifted his head, lips pursed as if to find just the right word, “belligerent, so the charges were raised to resisting arrest.

  “Three counts of public urination, one of which led to an altercation with Corporal Wright when the suspect made his opinion of the arrest clear by attempting to urinate on him . . .”

  Again he paused to allow the laughter to die down. “One count of sleeping on public property. That would be old Ivar,” he said in a quiet aside to Hektor. “He’s in the back having a good breakfast. Turn him loose whenever you like. After lunch maybe.”

  Hektor nodded, and Sergeant Jons set the first pile of reports down with great ceremony. All eyes followed his movements as he lifted the second. “So . . .” he began, settling comfortably against his chair back. “Let’s us see now, the Watchman’s Ball reports. What to get to first, eh? Ah, yes . . .” He glanced up as the gathered leaned forward, waiting with a stern expression until they fell back into a sort of loose parade rest. “Clay Marcher’s gran and granther were at it again this year.”

  “Runnin’ amok were they?” the same person from the back shouted as Constable Marcher’s face flushed red.

  “Running amok, no, not at all,” Sergeant Jons answered. “Dancing amok, yes. Without benefit of clothing, again, yes. But they came quietly after the dance was done and were escorted home without incident. Clay, you might want to head over there on your break and retrieve Constable Farane’s cloak.”

  “Yes, Sarge.”

  “Right, where was I?” the sergeant continued before he could be interrupted by more laughter. “Fourteen sets of undergarments retrieved from various trees and fences, some of which were quite . . .” Again he lifted his head and pursed his lips as if to find just the right word. “Finely made. That’s up from ten sets last year in case anyone’s keepin’ score.” He pointedly ignored a number of watchmen exchanging money. “As no one ever comes forward to claim their property, they will be donated as has become tradition. I’m not sure to which temple this year.” He glanced up with a rare smile. “I think we’d best leave that up to the Captain.”

  His words were greeted with a ripple of snickering and a number of surreptitious glances toward the Captain’s closed office door.

  “Seven people apprehended runnin’ through the streets without benefit of clothing,” he continued.

  The gathered leaned forward again.

  “Students, the lot of them,” he finished to general disappointment. “Two of ‘em Bardic Trainees from the Collegium.” Again, more money changed hands. “All reclothed, lectured, and escorted home again. These incidents are also up this year by . . .”

  “Two, Sarge,” Watchhouse Runner Padreic, Hektor’s youngest brother, supplied.

  “Two.”

  “An’ it took some doin’ to get the last one,” Raik noted sourly. “He climbed right up atop the statue of King Valdemar and got his stupid self stuck. Had to go up and fetch him down. Took the better part of an hour.”

  “Just about froze his manhood right off him, the silly bugger,” Jakon muttered.

  “Just about froze mine,” Raik added. “Had half a mind to leave him up there.”

  “If I might continue before the Captain returns from his morning meeting with the Breakneedle Street Watch Captain?” Sergeant Jons said loudly enough to quiet them. “Sightings of the Lightning . . .”

  All eyes turned expectantly.

  “None.”

  There was stunned silence.

  “What? None at all?” Corporal Wright asked.

  “None at all.”

  The gathered slumped as if the air had been let out of them.

  The entire capital passed the day in an air of dejection and speculation. Even those who had declared their disdain for the Lightning in the past were seen standing about with glum expressions. Much of the talk was of his past antics, and most agreed that nothing—not storms, not fog, and certainly not the Watch—could have stopped him. He must have been “topped.”

  As Hektor and Aiden headed for a local pie shop at noon, the older of the two Danns shook his head.

  “I s’pose that’s it then,” he noted.

  “Two rabbit, thanks, Jess. What’s it, then?” Hektor asked, handing a pie over.

  Aiden accepted it with a grimace. “The Lightning.” he declared, shaking his fingers to cool them. “He’s been showin’ up on the first night every year for . . . years, and suddenly nothing. He’s topped, like they say.”

  “Makes sense.” Hektor blew on his own pie with a reflective expression. “Ismy says if he’s been doin’ it for that long, he must be really old. He probably is topped.”

  Aiden grinned at him. “Ismy huh? So that’s where you snuck off to so early this mornin’. Ma was wonderin’.”

  Hektor shot him a dark look. “Liar. I told Ma where I was goin’.”

  “All right, I was wonderin,” Aiden admitted still grinning.

  “I just wanted to see her before my shift, is all.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  Aiden shook his head in disgust. “If you have to ask me, you didn’t ask her. I told Suli you didn’t have the bollocks. She owes me a pennybit. Do you two even have a proper understandin’ yet?”

  Hektor frowned at him. “I don’t know,” he answered slowly. “I think so. She asked me to supper after all this was all done.”

  “Well, that’s a start. Maybe she’ll ask for you.”

  “Jerk.”

  “Coward.”

  “Eat your pie.”

  “You gonna stand night watch?”

  Hektor shrugged. “Probably. Some of it anyway.”

  “Waste of time. He’s topped.”

  “The Captain still has the extra hands on just in case.”

  “Waste of money.”

  “Maybe, but it’s not like we couldn’t use it. Beside, there’s all the other idiots runnin’ amok out there to deal with.”

  Aiden finished his pie with a grimace. “Well, they better get it outta their systems early then,” he growled, a martial light growing in his eyes. “ ‘Cause come midnight tomorrow, most of us are gonna be damned ugly.”

  The rest of the day passed quietly, as if the entire capital were holding it’s breath, waiting for nightfall. Waiting to see if the Lightning would make an appearance or if he really was topped as most people believed.

  Hektor arrived at the tenement house where he shared an upstairs flat with four generations of his family as the city bells tolled six. He figured he had just enough time to eat and catch a couple hours’ sleep before he was due back at the Watchhouse. Jakon and Raik, on regular night duty, should be up and out of the small bedroom they shared with him and Padreic by now. He took the three flights of stairs two at a time, already anticipating the bowl of his mother’s soup and his own warm blankets.

  He met the local herbalist coming down.

  “Sergeant.”

  “Sir.”

  “I’ve just been to see Thomar.”

  Hektor felt himself grow still. “Oh?” he managed.

  “Your granther needs to see a Healer,” the man said bluntly. “An actual Healer.”

  “Why? What’s happened?”

  The herbalist ran a hand through his hair in an impatient gesture. “He had a dizzy spell and a bit of a fall. Nothing too serious. A bump on the head,” he added as Hektor’s expression went from worried to al
armed. “Years of breathing in the droppings from those messenger birds of his has compromised his lungs, and a packet of herbs once a week isn’t going to be enough to set things right at his age. He needs to see a Healer, but he’s resisting.”

  “He’ll say it’s too dear,” Hektor ventured.

  “Rubbish. He’s just being a stubborn old fool. I say this in all respect, Hektor. I’ve known Thomar for forty years. He was friends with my own father as I was with yours, and I’ll tell you what I told him. He needs to see a Healer soon or he’ll die.” His voice dropped. “It may even be too late.”

  He straightened. “I was sorry about Egan,” he added as he headed down the stairs. “I miss your Da, as I’m sure you all do.”

  “Thanks.”

  The flat was in an uproar when he arrived. Padreic was pacing the front room, squeezing the pig’s bladder ball he was forever mending in his hands, while their only sister, Kasiath, was sitting by the coal stove, her eyes red from trying not to cry. Jakon and Raik were standing beside her, clearly unsure of how to comfort her beyond their physical presence. Everyone looked up with relief when Hektor entered.

  “Where’re the others?” he asked, casting a swift glance across the kitchen to the small pantry they’d converted for their grandfather’s use.

  “Suli took the littles off to visit her mother,” Padreic answered. “Aiden’s not home yet, an’ Ma’s gone to the Healers to get someone to come by and see to Granther.”

  “Granther don’t need no one seein’ to him!” Thomar’s weak but determined voice carried easily across the flat. “He just needs some blasted quiet!”

  Padreic chewed at his bottom lip. “I thought I might go down to Rosie’s, Hek,” he said in a hushed voice. “If that’s all right. I can stay though,” he added quickly. “If you need things fetched, or somethin’ . . .”

  Hektor shook his head. “No, you go. Just stay indoors so I know where to find you.” Both of them tried hard not to glance over at the pantry again.

  “We’ll head out too now that you’re home,” Raik said.

  “Where will you be?”

  The two younger brothers shared a look. “Watchman’s Arms if you need us.”

  Hektor nodded. “Kas?”

  She looked up. “I’ll stay.”

  “All right then.” Hektor made a show of screwing up his courage. “So, let’s go see if we can talk some sense into a cantankerous old man.”

  The pantry was just big enough to house a narrow pallet down the center. Thomar lay propped up on a pile of pillows, wrapped in shawls and blankets, and looking as birdlike as one of his own messenger pigeons. He gave Hektor a narrow-eyed look as his grandson pushed the curtain aside. “Don’t start,” he wheezed. “It’s too dear, and it’s not necessary.”

  “The herbalist says otherwise, Granther.”

  “The herbalist is a . . .” Thomar paused as Kasiath pushed past her brother and tucked herself on the bottom corner of the pallet. “. . . nagging little fart,” he finished. “I know what’s what; he don’t. So . . .” He turned to Kasiath. “D’you tell him your news, girl?”

  She shook her head. “There hasn’t been time, Granther.”

  “So tell him now. It’s good news. News to celebrate.”

  Hektor glanced down at his little sister. “I could use some good news,” he prompted with a smile.

  She nodded gravely. “The Watchhouse Messenger Bird Master came by today,” she said. “An’ he offered me an apprenticeship.”

  “That’s great Kassie. Another Dann in the Watch, sort of. Um . . . how much is it gonna cost?”

  “That’s all taken care of,” Thomar snapped. “Me an’ Logan have an understandin’. About that, an’ about other things too. So, go on, tell him the rest.”

  “That’s not for certain, Granther.”

  “Nonsense.”

  “An’ it’s too dear.”

  “You let us decide on what’s too dear, you just tell your brother what Logan said.”

  “He thinks he might be able to get me into some classes at the Collegium,” Kasiath relented. “He says he thinks I might have Animal Mindspeech, well, Bird-speech anyway. Maybe.”

  “Of course you do,” Thomar interjected again. “Anyone with half a brain coulda seen that years ago.” He began to cough, waving off his two grandchildren as they leaned forward. “Now you get downstairs and tell Paddy to go chase your Ma down afore she wastes time and money on some high and mighty Healer what’ll charge more’n a month’s rent just to tell me to stay in bed.

  “I won’t die afore you get back, I promise,” he added as she hesitated. “I wanna talk to Hektor alone. Go on now, there’s a good girl.

  “An’ you don’t be frettin’ about any cost of Kassie’s apprenticeship,” he said, once he and Hektor were alone. “I’ve been puttin’ money aside with Logan ever since she were three years old. Like I said, it was obvious to anyone with half a brain that she had a gift with birds. An’ when I’m gone, I want what little money I’ve saved up to pay for those classes of hers. You understand?”

  “Sure but . . .”

  “Don’t you sure but me, boy. My time’s soon; I know it an’ so should you. I won’t have anyone’s hard-earned pay going to some Healer just to be told it. It’s a waste of money.”

  Hektor smiled. “It’s funny. That’s just what Aiden said today about working a double shift on account of the Lightning.”

  “Oh? Why?”

  “Well, he never showed up last night.”

  Thomar gave a disdainful sniff. “I’m not surprised,” he stated.

  “Why?”

  The sound of the door opening and Aiden’s feet clumping through the front room interrupted them. “Get your brother in here,” Thomar ordered. “I got somethin’ to tell you both.”

  The night shift passed with the usual number of students running amok and sets of undergarments being laid out for the Lightning’s approval. Clay Marcher’s grandparents made another brief appearance, this time in their nightclothes as a concession to the cold, but once again there was no sign of the famous nude runner himself. After the Night Sergeant had made his reports, the four oldest Danns met in Hektor’s small office with the door firmly shut behind them.

  Both Jakon and Raik stared at their older brothers with their mouths open.

  “Granther was the Lightning?” Raik stammered. “You’re not serious.”

  Hektor raised his hands. “Him an’ Great Uncle Daz, that’s what he says.”

  “He’s pullin’ your leg,” Jakon declared flatly. “There’s no possible way. They were Watchmen.”

  “He says they got a bet on one new moon’s eve walking the night beat when they were about your age,” Aiden said. “Uncle Daz dared Granther to run past the Watchhouse naked. That’s how it started.”

  “He says eventually six other Watchmen from all across the city, all the same age . . .” Hektor started.

  “Young an’ stupid,” Aiden supplied.

  “Came on board. All sworn to secrecy. Granther says he’s the last. The two before him died last spring.”

  Jakon scratched his chin. “I guess that would be why there were always so many sightin’s of him,” he noted.

  “An’ why the Lightning never showed up this year,” Raik continued.

  “An’ why he won’t never show up again,” Hektor finished for them. “Granther’s too old an’ too sick to carry on like that any more.”

  The two younger brothers cast each other an equally speculative glance, and Aiden shot them both a sharp look.

  “Don’t even think about it,” he ordered.

  “Think about what?”

  The looks turned to expressions of aggrieved innocence, and Aiden just scowled at them.

  “You know what. Don’t. I mean it, both of you.”

  “ ‘Course not,” Raik protested. “After all, Granther an’ Uncle Daz were the two oldest Danns in their generation. It’s hardly our place to take their place, now is it? It’s j
ust a pity it’s over, is all.”

  “A real shame,” Jakon agreed. “Folks looked forward to the Lightning all year. He was like a market fair all rolled into one man.”

  “Eight men.”

  “Yeah, eight men. It would take a lot to fill those shoes.”

  “Yep, he was a city tradition.”

  “A family tradition as it turns out.”

  “So, let him be someone else’s family tradition,” Hektor replied. “An’ I don’t want this getting out, neither,” he continued. “Not to anyone, an’ that means the family too. The last thing we need is Paddy runnin’ naked through the streets in some fool quest to honor Granther. What with him bein’ so sick an’ all,” he added pensively. “Yeah, I guess it is kind of a shame, it’s over. Granther’s just not up to it, the silly old fool.”

  Jakon cocked an eyebrow at Raik. “‘Course we won’t tell anyone,” he replied. “It’s Dann business, isn’t it? An’ Paddy’s far too young, anyway. No one’d ever believe it if they caught a glimpse of him.”

  “He’d just get his stupid self caught,” Raik agreed.

  “So, that’s it, then,” Jakon declared. “We’re sworn to secrecy.”

  “All of us. Right Hek?”

  “Right.”

  “Aiden?”

  The oldest Dann brother looked from them to Hektor with a deepening scowl. “I know what you’re tryin’ to do,” he growled. “But yeah, we’re sworn to secrecy.”

  Satisfied, the two younger Danns sauntered through the door, leaving the two older Danns to stare silently at each other.

  “So that’s it then,” Aiden repeated.

  Hektor nodded. “That’s it.”

  “Right. That’s it.”

  Two nights later, Hektor sat in Ismy Browne’s small kitchen, wiping up the last of the stew in his bowl with a generous piece of biscuit. Ismy set a pie down in the center of the table before joining him.

  “I was sorry to hear about Thomar,” she said solemnly. “It was just last night wasn’t it?”

  “Early this morning.”

  “How are the family doin’?”