:No, thank you, I had one. Remember? Rolan nearly brained me.: Tantris'
sending took on a serious coloration. :You know, you really shouldn't tease her about Dirk. Lifebonds aren't easy to bear when the pair hasn't acknowledged it.:
Kris looked at his Companion's back-tilted ears in astonishment. :You're sure? I mean, she certainly shows every symptom of lifebonding, but— :
:We're sure.:
:Do you by any chance know when— ?: he asked his Companion.
:Dirk was the first Herald she ever saw; Rolan thinks it might have been then.:
:That early? Lord and Lady, that would be one powerful bond... : Kris continued to watch her with a little bemusement as the thought trailed away.
Tradesmen and their patrons screamed cheerfully at one another over the din of vehicles, squalling children, and bawling animals. Yet for all that the populace seemed to ignore the presence of the two Heralds passing through their midst, a path always seemed to clear itself before them, and someone beckoned them on by a smile or a wave of a hat. The Guard at the outer gate saluted them as they passed through; the Guardfolk were no strangers to the comings and goings of Heralds. They rode through the tunnel that passed under the thick, gray-granite walls of the old city, and the din lessened for just a moment. Then they emerged into the narrower ways of the capital itself. It lacked only an hour until the evening meal and 18
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the streets were as crowded with people as Kris had ever seen them. It was not quite as noisy here in the old city, but the streets were just as full.
After months of small towns and villages, Kris found himself marveling anew at the crush of people, and the closely-built, multi-storied stone houses. For many months, the chime of bells on their Companions' bridles had been the loudest sound they heard; now that sound was completely engulfed in the babble around them.
The streets had been designed in a spiral; no one could move straight to the Palace grounds— as in most older cities that had been built with an eye to defense. Kris led them on a course that wound ever inward. The din died away behind them as they left the streets of shops behind and entered the inner, residential core. The modest houses of the merchant class gradually gave way to the more impressive buildings owned by the wealthy or noble, each set apart from the street by a private wall enclosing the manse and a bit of garden. Eventually they made their way to the inner beige-brick wall surrounding the Palace and the three Collegia— Bardic, Healer's and Herald's. The silver-and-blue-clad Palace Guard stationed at the gate halted them for a moment, while she checked them off against a list of those expected to be arriving. Careful records were kept on when a Herald should come in from the field— in the case of those arriving from distant Sectors, this calculation was accurate within a stretch of two or three days; in the case of those arriving from nearby Sectors, expected arrival time was accurate to within hours. This list was posted with the Gate Guard— so when a Herald was overdue, someone knew it, and something could be done to find out why, quickly.
"Herald Dirk in yet?" Kris asked the swarthy Guardswoman casually when she'd finished.
"Just arrived two days ago, Herald," she replied, consulting the roster.
"Guard then notes he asked about you two."
"Thank you, Guard. Pleasant watch to you." Kris grinned, urging Tantris through the gate she held open, with Rolan following closely behind.
Kris continued to watch Talia carefully, feeling a surge of gratified pride as he noted her behavior. The past few months had been living hell for her.
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Control of her Gift had been based entirely on instinct, rather than on proper training— and no one had ever realized this. The rumors that she had used it to manipulate— worse, that she had done so unconsciously—had pushed her off-balance. His own doubts about the truth of those rumors had been easy for her to pick up. And for someone whose Gift was based on emotions, and who was frequently prey to self-doubt, the effect was bound to be catastrophic.
It was at least that. She'd lost all control over her Gift— which unfortunately remained at full strength. She'd lost the ability to shield, and projected wildly. She'd very nearly killed them both on more than one occasion.
We were just lucky that during the worst of it, we were snowed in at that Waystation. It was just the two of us, and we were isolated long enough for her to get back in charge of herself.
And then she'd met the rumors again— this time circulating among the common folk. More than once they'd regarded her with fear and suspicion, yet she had never faltered in the performance of her duties or given any indication to an outsider that she was anything except calm, thoughtful, and controlled. She'd given a months' long series of performances a trained player couldn't equal.
It was vital that a Herald maintain emotional stability under all circumstances. This was especially true of the Queen's Own, who dealt with volatile nobles and the intrigues of the Court on a daily basis. She'd lost that stability, but after working through her trial had managed to get it back, and more.
He managed to catch her eyes, and gave her an encouraging wink; she dropped her solemn face for a moment to wrinkle her nose at him.
They passed the end of the Guard barracks and neared the black iron fence that separated the "public" grounds of the Palace from the "private"
grounds and those of the three Collegia. Another Guard stood at the Gate here, but his position was mainly to intercept the newly-Chosen; he waved them on with a grin. From here the granite core of the Palace with its three 20
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great brick wings and the separate buildings of the Healer's and Bardic Collegia was at last clearly visible. Kris sighed happily. No matter where a Herald came from— this place, and the people in it, were his real home.
* * *
Talia felt a surge of warmth and contentment at the sight of the Collegium and the Palace— a feeling of true homecoming. Just as they passed this last gate, she heard a joyful shout, and Dirk and Ahrodie pounded up the brick-paved pathway at a gallop to meet them.
Dirk's straw-blond hair was flying every which way, like a particularly windblown bird's nest. Kris vaulted off Tantris' back as Dirk hurled himself from Ahrodie's; they met in a back-pounding, laughing, bear hug.
Talia remained in the saddle; at the sight of Dirk her heart had contracted painfully, and now it was pounding so hard she felt that it must be clearly audible. Her anxieties concerning Elspeth and the intrigues of the Court receded into the back of her mind.
She was tightly shielded; afraid to let anything leak through.
* * *
Dirk's attention was primarily on her and not on his friend and partner. Dirk had been watching for them all day— telling himself that it was Kris whose company he had missed. He'd felt like a tight bowstring, without being willing to identify why he'd been so tense. His reaction on finally seeing them had been totally unplanned, giving him release for his pent-up emotion in the exuberant greeting to Kris. Though he seemed to ignore her, he was almost painfully aware of Talia's presence. She sat so quietly on her own Companion that she might have been a statue, yet he practically counted every breath she took.
He knew that he would remember how she looked right now down to the smallest hair. Every nerve seemed to tingle, and he felt almost as if he were wearing his skin inside out.
* * *
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When Dirk finally let go of his shoulders, Kris said, with a grin that was bordering on malicious, "You haven't welcomed Talia, brother. She's going to think you don't remember her."
"Not remember her? Hardly!" Dirk seemed to be having a little trouble breathing. Kris hid another grin.
Talia and Rolan were less than two paces away, and Dirk freed an arm to take Talia's nearer hand in his own.
Kris thought he'd never seen a human face look so exactly like a stunned ox's.
* * *
Talia met the incredible blue of Dirk's eyes with a shock. It felt very much as if she'd been struck by lightning. She came near to trembling when their hands touched, but managed to hold to her self-control by a thin thread and smiled at him with lips that felt oddly stiff. "Welcome home, Talia." That was all he said— which was just as well.
The sound of his voice and the feeling of his eyes on her made her long to fling herself at him. She found herself staring at him, unable to respond.
* * *
She looked a great deal different than he remembered; leaner, as if she'd been fine-tempered and fine-honed. She was more controlled— certainly more mature. Was there a sadness about her that hadn't been there before? Was it some pain that had thinned her face?
When he'd taken her hand, it had seemed as if something— he wasn't sure what— had passed between them; but if she'd felt it, too, she gave no sign.
When she'd smiled at him, and her eyes had warmed with that smile, he'd thought his heart was going to stop. The dreams he'd had of her all these months, the obsession— he'd figured they'd pop like soap bubbles when confronted with the reality. He'd been wrong. The reality only 22
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strengthened the obsession. He held her hand that trembled very slightly in his own, and longed with all his heart for Kris' silver tongue.
* * *
They stood frozen in that position for so long that Kris thought with concealed glee that they were likely to remain there forever unless he broke their concentration. "Come on, partner." He slapped Dirk's back heartily and remounted Tantris.
Dirk jumped in startlement as if someone had blown a trumpet in his ear, then grinned sheepishly.
"If we don't get moving, we're going to miss supper— and I can't tell you how many times I dreamed of one of Mero's meals on the road!"
"Is that all you missed? Food? I might have known. Poor abused brother, did Talia make you eat your own cooking?"
"Worse—" Kris said, grinning at her, "— she made me eat hers! " He winked at her and punched Dirk's arm lightly.
* * *
When Kris broke the trance he was in, Dirk dropped Talia's hand as if it had burned him. When Talia turned a gaze full of gratitude on Kris, presumably for the interruption, Dirk felt a surge of something unpleasantly like jealousy at the thanks in her eyes. When Kris included her in the banter, Dirk wished that it had been his idea, not Kris'. "Beast," she told Kris, making a face at him.
"Hungry beast."
"He's right though, much as I hate to agree with him," she said softly, turning to Dirk, and he suppressed a shiver— her voice had improved and 23
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deepened; it played little arpeggios on his backbone. "If we don't hurry, you will be too late. It doesn't matter too much to me— I'm used to sneaking bread and cheese from Mero— but it's very unkind to keep you standing here. Will you ride up with us?"
He laughed to cover the hesitation in his voice. "You'd have to tie me up to keep me from coming with you."
He and Kris remounted with a creak of leather, and they rode with Talia between them; that gave Dirk all the excuse he needed to rest his eyes on her. She gazed straight ahead or at Rolan's ears except when she was answering one or the other of them. Dirk wasn't sure whether he should be piqued or pleased. She wasn't favoring either of them with a jot more attention than the other, but he began to wish very strongly that she'd look at him a little more frequently than she was.
A dreadful fear was starting to creep into his heart. She had spent the past year and a half largely in Kris' company. What if—
He began scrutinizing Kris' conduct, since Talia's was giving him no clues.
It seemed to confirm his fears. Kris was more at ease with Talia than he'd ever been with any other woman; they laughed and traded jokes as if their friendship had grown through years rather than months.
It was worse when they reached the Field and the tackshed, and Kris offered her an assist down with mock gallantry. She accepted the hand with a teasing haughteur, and dismounted with one fluid motion. Had Kris'
hand lingered in hers a moment or two longer than had been really necessary? Dirk couldn't be sure. Their behavior wasn't really loverlike, but it was the closest he'd ever seen Kris come to it.
They unsaddled their Companions and stowed the tack safely away in the proper places after a cursory cleaning. Dirk's was pretty much clean; but Talia's and Kris' needed more work than could be taken care of in an hour— after being in the field for so long, it would all have to have an expert's touch. Dirk kept Talia in the corner of his eye while she worked, humming under her breath. Kris kept up his chatter, and Dirk made 24
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distracted, monosyllabic replies. He wished he could get her alone for just a few minutes.
He had no further chance for observation. Keren, Sherrill, and Jeri appeared like magicians out of the thinnest air, converged on her, and carried her off to her rooms, baggage and all, leaving him alone with Kris.
"Look, I don't know about you, but I am starved," Kris said, as Dirk stared mournfully after the foursome, Talia carrying her harp "My Lady" and the rest sharing her packs. "Let's get the four-feets turned loose and get that dinner."
* * *
"Well?" Keren asked, her rough voice full of arch significance, when the three women had gotten Talia and her belongings safely into the privacy of her room. "Well, what?" Talia replied, glancing at the graying Riding Instructor from under demure lashes while she unpacked in her bedroom.
"What? What! Oh, come on, Talia—" Sherrill laughed, "— you know exactly what we mean! How did it go? Your letters weren't exactly very long or very informative."
Talia suppressed a smile, and turned her innocent gaze on Keren's lifemate. "Personal or professional?"
Jeri fingered the hilt of her belt-knife significantly. "Talia," she warned,
"If you don't stop trying our patience, Rolan just may have to find a new Queen's Own tonight."
"Oh, well, if you're going to be that way about it—" Talia backed away, laughing, as Sherrill, hazel eyes narrowed in mock ferocity, curled her long fingers into claws and lunged at her. She dodged aside at the last moment, and the tall brunette landed on her bed instead. "— all right, I yield, I yield! What do you want to know first?"
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Sherrill rolled to her feet, laughing. "What do you think? Skif hinted that you and Kris were getting cozy, but he wouldn't do more than hint."
"Quite cozy, yes, but nothing much more. Yes, we were sharing blankets, and no, there isn't anything more between us than a very comfortable friendship."
"Pity," Jeri replied merrily, throwing herself onto Talia's couch in the outer room, then twining a lock of her chestnut hair around one finger.
"We were hoping for a passionate romance."
"Sorry to disappoint you," she replied, not sounding sorry at all, "Though if you're thinking of trying in that direction—"
"Hm?" Jeri did her best not to look too eager, but didn't succeed very well.
"Well, once he's managed to shake Nessa loose—"
"Ha!"
"Don't laugh, we think we know a way. Well, once she's no longer hot on the hunt, he's going to be quite unpartnered, and he's just as— um—pleasant a companion as Varianis claims. Jeri, don't lick your whiskers so damned obviously, he's not a bowl of cream!"
Jeri looked chagrined and blushed as scarlet as the couch cushions, as Sherrill and Keren chuckled at her discomfiture. "I wasn't that bad, was I?"
"You most certainly were. Keep your predatory thoughts to yourself if you don't want to frighten him off the way Nessa has," Keren admonished with a wry grin. "As for you, little centaur, he seems to have cured your man-shyness rather handily. I guess I owe Kyril and Elcarth an apology. I thought assigning him to you was insanity. Well, now that our prurience has been satisfied, how did the work go?"
"It's a very long story, and before I go into it, have y
ou three eaten?"
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Three affirmatives caused her to nod. "Well I haven't yet. You have a choice; you can either wait until I'm done with dinner for the rest of the gossip—"
They groaned in mock-anguish.
"Or you can check me in and bring me something from the kitchen. If Selenay or Elspeth need me, they'll send a page for me."
"I'll check her in." Jeri shot out the door and down the spiral staircase.
"I'll go fetch you a young feast. You look like you've lost pounds, and when Mero finds out it's for you, he'll probably ransack the entire pantry."
Sherrill vanished after Jeri.
Keren stood away from the wall she'd been leaning against. "Give me a proper greeting, you maddening child." She smiled, holding out her arms.
"Oh, Keren—" Talia embraced the woman who had been friend, surrogate-mother and sister to her— and more— with heartfelt fervor.
"Gods, how I've missed you!"
"And I, you. You've changed, and for the better." Keren held her closely, then put her at arm's length, surveying her with intense scrutiny. "It isn't often I get to see my hopes fulfilled with such exactitude."
"Don't be so silly." Talia blushed. "You're seeing what isn't there."
"Oh, I think not." Keren smiled. "The gods know you are the world's worst judge when it comes to evaluating yourself. Dearling, you've become all I hoped you'd be. But— you didn't have the easy time we thought you would, did you?"
"I— no, I didn't." Talia sighed. "I— Keren, my Gift went rogue on me. At full power."
"Great good gods!" She examined Talia even more carefully, gray eyes boring into Talia's. "How the hell did that happen? I thought we'd trained—"
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