The Duke nodded. “My cousin did not approve of my being—well, as I am.”
“Do you need this inheritance?”
“Not really—my estates are fruitful enough. And I am able to choose my own inheritor, so I don’t have to sire an heir myself.” He sighed again. “It would have been nice to tweak Cousin Agadrew’s nose one last time.”
The Herald rolled her eyes. “So, if you can stomach your discontent enough to listen to the occasional preaching from the Sisters, you have no obligation to wed the Lady Valia?”
Duke Orrin shook his head, then smiled at Valia. “As you said, my Lady, it is not that I have a personal dislike for you, but . . .” His eyes went back to her brother.
“Here is my idea, then,” Valia said. “What if we simply continue the pretense that I was in that carriage? No disgrace will fall on our family, or on you, for a failed alliance when the lady in question is buried in a landslide. Capin can return to our parents and tell them the truth of things.” She gave her brother a sidelong glance, recognizing the near-besotted expression in his eyes when he looked at the Duke. “Perhaps Seb can stay here for a while, representing my family’s friendship with you.”
“But what of you, Lia?” her brother asked.
At this, the Herald smiled. “That, I think, is why I was drawn here,” she said. “We can put it about that I am in need of a servitor for my return journey, and the duke will generously offer one of his footmen, and there will be no trace of either Val or the Lady Valia remaining in Llyrida.”
“If you would like that, Lia?” Sebasten was frowning, but Valia nodded at him, a sudden excitement blooming inside her.
“You know I have never wished to be a great lady of the Fifty. Traveling as an aide to the Herald-Envoy will suit me better than anything that was available to me in Mornedealth. I will miss you, of course, but at least I can write.” She smiled, her heart lighter at the prospect before her than it had been since she left her parents’ estate.
:And you have a latent Mind-Gift that’s now emerging,: Feste’s voice filled her head. :That’s why you ‘felt’ and saw what your brother did during the second landslide. Ardra can’t help you with it—she doesn’t Mindspeak with anyone but me—but I can. And will.: She had the sense that he meant something more and that he found something in the situation very funny, but he didn’t elaborate.
“And once we get to Valdemar, you can make your next, er, choices from there. There are more opportunities than you might expect that may interest you, which you could not find among the nobility of Jkatha.” There was something both sympathetic and welcoming in the Herald’s brown eyes, with a trace of amusement to match Feste’s.
Valia blinked, then relaxed and leaned against her brother while they planned her departure. For nearly the first time in her life, she felt that her future held something to look forward to. At last, she thought as the conversation swirled around her, I will be able to do something.
Reborn
Jennifer Brozek
Lia couldn’t get the boy out of her head. She’d dreamed of him for weeks. First it was just flashes of brown hair and brown eyes. Then it grew with a shy smile and joyful laugh. She had the impression of soft clothing and rich fabric. She couldn’t tell why, but she liked this boy. A lot.
Last night the dream had turned dark and strange. A sense of motion, of running, of fear. Her boy—her Chosen—was in trouble. She needed to help him. She needed to find him—
:Lia?: A nip to her flanks.
Lia turned on Kalin and snapped at her neck. :Let me be!:
:Thinking about your Chosen again?: The other filly danced out of range of Lia’s half-hearted kick.
: Leave me alone. Go play with the rest.:
:You’ll always be alone if you act like that.: There was no teasing in the other Companion’s mental voice as she trotted toward the rest of her playmates.
Lia knew Kalin was right, but she couldn’t shake the fact that the boy was important—to her, at least. No, Companions didn’t usually get the call this young, but that didn’t mean it didn’t happen; after all, there was a first time for everything. She thought about going to see the King’s Own Companion again. Then she remembered what he’d said to her:
:I know you think this boy is special to you, but more likely, you are having flashes of Farsight or Foresight. No, you’re too young to hear the call or to recognize your Chosen. You have at least another year. The boy you describe is too young to be Chosen. Perhaps, in another year or two, if you still dream of him, then we’ll do something about it.:
But a year or two would be too late. It was time to take control of the matter before it was too late for her and for the boy.
• • •
Someone would come. They had to. Or he was dead. It was the one thing Owen was sure of. Even as he blinked in the darkness of the hood over his head, he could still see the blue eyes of the filly reassuring him that she would come, would save him. He’d never seen a filly the color of snow and with eyes the color of the sky before, but he was sure she existed. Perhaps on his uncle’s estate.
Uncle Briden. He wouldn’t know the carriage was late for at least another day or two. He wouldn’t know to send help.
“Boy!” Ernst, the lead bandit, yanked open the carriage door. “Where’s the treasure your father sent with you? I swear by my hand, I’ll kill your man if you don’t tell me.”
Owen shook his head. “I’m sorry. I—” He winced as the bag was ripped from his head.
“Don’t you lie to me.” The hissed words promised pain.
“I’m not. I don’t know about any treasure. I’m to be fostered. All I have with me is my clothing.” It was the truth as far as Owen knew. His father had given them enough provisions to survive on the road with no need to resupply.
The big man with the grizzled beard glared. “Then your man dies.”
Owen tried to look past Ernst to the household guard sent to protect him: an old man who was a friend as well as a guard. The bandits had already killed the other two guards. Arvin was alive now only because he’d been in the carriage with Owen at the time of the attack. “Arvin? If there’s gold, please give it to them.”
“There’s no treasure, milord. I swear it.” The guardsman cried out in pain.
Owen couldn’t see what shape Arvin was in, but he didn’t sound good. “Please, all we have is yours. Let us go.”
Ernst barked a laugh. “Naw, boy. Gotta make our money somehow.” He eyed Owen’s clothing. “Fosterage, eh? Who to?”
“Lord Briden, my uncle.”
“The one with the castle in the hills? I know him. Bet he’d pay a pretty coin for you.” Ernst paused, his voice taking on a contemplative tone. “Bet both your uncle and your father would pay to get you back.”
Owen didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say. Ernst shoved the black hood over his head. As the bandit did so, the man’s knuckles grazed Owen’s check, and he heard Ernst’s thoughts in his mind, “Two ransoms and a shallow grave for the pair of them. Good bit of gold if I play my cards right.”
As the carriage door closed, Owen knew he had to escape before Ernst put his plan in motion. He just hoped he could figure out a way to save both himself and Arvin.
• • •
Lia considered her options: Jump the fence at Companion’s Field. Steal away in the dead of night. Kick over a lamp and start a small fire and escape while everyone was distracted—she rejected that last one as too dangerous as soon as it came to mind. There were too many problems with all of her plans.
As she considered, she wandered into the stable. On the other side was the road out to the rest of the castle area and Haven proper. The guards kept those from the other collegia from “accidentally stumbling” into the Companion and Heralds’ territory, but they didn’t seem to stop anyone from leaving.
She consid
ered making a run for it. Everyone knew she was too young to leave on her own. Maybe—
“Hello there.” A young stable boy interrupted as he walked in and smiled at her. “Nara, right?”
Lia didn’t stop to think about what she was doing. The boy was new and young. He probably wouldn’t get into trouble . . . much trouble anyway. She nodded and nickered to him. Then, with an imperious stomp of a hoof as she’d seen Nara do, she gestured to a light saddle with her nose.
“Ah, need to get ready, milady?” The boy put down his tools. Without another question, he fitted her with a blanket, saddle, and bridle. She nickered her thanks as he finished and patted her shoulder.
Heart pounding hard, Lia held her head high and trotted down the way, past the guards, and out the gate. No one stopped her. No one shouted a warning. Still, she continued at a good clip until she was out of sight. Slowing as she moved into the twisting thoroughfare of the city, Lia followed the mass of people heading in the direction of the main gates.
She hadn’t thought it would be this easy, and most of her planning had been around getting out of the Palace grounds and Haven itself. She hadn’t figured out what to do next other than “save the boy.”
The very thought of him brought both pleasure and fear. She had to find him now that she was free.
• • •
Owen dreamed in stutters and stops. The blue-eyed horse—Lia, her name was Lia—was in trouble. Angry voices yelled at her like thunder from the sky. Her body was pounded by hail and branches. It was as if the land itself chased her. He reached out to her. Be careful. Be safe. Don’t hurt yourself for me. Those blue eyes came closer as she seemed to hear him.
The carriage rocked and the door slammed shut, yanking Owen from his dream. He sat up as Ernst settled himself in the seat on the other side of the carriage. “Good carriage. No leaks. I think I’ll keep it after I return you home.”
Owen didn’t say anything. He kept his body and hands still. He’d worked to free himself from his bonds, but he hadn’t succeeded yet. The rope was looser, however. Now that he was awake and the dream of the horse—Lia—faded, he could hear the spring storm all around them. It raged hard, with heavy drops breaking through the trees to crash against the carriage’s roof. “Where’s Arvin?”
Ernst scoffed. “Care for your man, do you?”
“Yes.” He worked to keep the offense out of his voice. Of course he cared. The men and women who worked for the family were extended family in a way. “Please. Is he well?”
“Well enough for now. Under the carriage. We’ll see when my men get back if your kin think you’re worth the price. We should know soon enough.”
Owen relaxed. Arvin might still get wet, but at least he was somewhat protected from the rain. “Thank you.”
• • •
:How dare you pretend to be me!:
Lia stumbled in surprise. Nara’s mental fury was almost physical. She’d been so intent on getting out of Haven, she hadn’t considered what would happen when she was discovered missing.
Right now, Lia was concerned with heading to one of the new fiefdoms in the hills. She was glad she’d taken the time to study the map when the accordance was drawn up. :I did not. He called me you. I didn’t—:
:Don’t you quibble with me, young lady! You get your tail back here immediately. We’re going to have a talk about this.:
:No.:
The older Companion radiated surprise and shocked disapproval. :What did you say? Don’t make me get the Heralds involved.:
Heralds or not, Lia refused to be swayed. :My Chosen is in trouble. You do what you think you need to do. I’m going to do what I know I need to do.: She shut Nara out of her mind and continued to run.
There was no real road to follow in the direction of the boy, just a trail through the hilly woods. The sky opened up in a torrent of rain that beat against her, causing the swaying branches to slap at her face and her body as she pushed through them as fast as she could. Now that she’d shut out Nara, Lia wasn’t sure what the Companions would do. She had almost a full day’s head start. She would make the most of it.
Even as her visibility dropped to a few feet and she shivered with every step, Lia could feel the boy. Feel which direction she needed to go. If she were blind, she’d be able to find him. Awake, she could easily sense him, even in his darkness and fear.
• • •
As the hoof beats drew closer, Ernst sat up, and Owen’s heart soared. Lia is here. She’ll help! He didn’t know how she’d help, but—
His heart plummeted at one of the bandits, Pitor, calling out, “Ernst!” With it, his stomach sank. It wasn’t rescue. It was his doom. Or the first part of it.
Ernst left the carriage without a word. Owen strained to hear the men while he worked his wrists against the rope and the rope against the metal of his coat’s buckle.
“Well?”
“Success. The brat’s father paid after he saw the flag from the carriage.”
“All of it?”
“All of it.”
“Were you followed?” Ernst’s voice took on a strident note.
Owen listened hard, trying to figure out what the concern was. A moment later, he heard more hoof beats. Again, his heart soared. “Lia,” he murmured.
Again his heart broke as the hoof beats revealed themselves to be the other bandit.
“It’s Dev.” Ernst sounded relieved. “What’s the word?”
“Lord Briden don’t believe we got the boy. ‘Anyone could steal a tabard,’ he said.”
Owen worked the rope harder against the metal. He didn’t know what the bandits would do now. One person had paid. One hadn’t. Part of him was grateful his father thought that much of him. Part of him understood where his uncle was coming from.
“Well then,” Ernst said. “Let’s see if Lord Briden will believe a dead guardsman.”
Owen froze. The bandits had left Nicholas and Camlin dead by the side of the road. Would they go back to get the bodies?
Arvin cried out in pain.
Owen ripped the hood from his head and was out the carriage door before he’d realized he’d moved. Through the squalling rain, he saw Ernst twist the sword piercing Arvin’s chest. Arvin’s mouth moved in apology to Owen as the older man breathed his last breath and died.
• • •
:May I ask what you’re doing?:
Startled, Lia snorted in and almost tripped over a tree root. The new voice was familiar in an uncanny way, but she couldn’t place it. :??:
:I’m Herald Sarah with my Companion, Tavin. Tavin tells me the other Companions are very worried about you, and I’m the closest Herald to you. He doesn’t have Mindspeech. I do.:
:I’m not going back!:
Mental amusement flooded the link. :I didn’t ask you to. I just asked what you are doing.:
Lia felt forward. She was close. So close to the boy—Owen, his name was Owen—and he was in pain. So much pain. :Rescuing my Chosen. I don’t care if you think I’m too young. He needs me now. Right now, or he’s dead.: The rain came down in sheets as lightning flashed through the sky, and thunder crashed so loud she feared she’d be deaf when she regained her senses.
Half blind from the storm, Lia galloped through the forest, heedless of the dangers, to reach Owen. Breaking through a line of trees into a small glade, she couldn’t understand the scene before her.
• • •
Owen didn’t scream his dismay at Arvin’s death. Instead, he let his fury take over. It was the fury that had grown in the back of his mind since the bandits had first attacked.
Without understanding how he did it, Owen pulled that red fury into himself before directing it at his enemies. A lightning strike next to Dev knocked him from his horse as he yelled his shock. The next lightning strike hit Pitor, still holding the dead guardsman.
Ernst whirled on Owen, his mouth opened in a small O of surprise. It quickly morphed into something neutral and infinitely more dangerous. “Boy!” He pointed his sword at Owen, its blade dripping blood and rain.
“No.” The word and every other word after it was lost to the rain. “No. No. NO!” Owen chanted the negation as if it would bring Arvin back. With each step towards the old man, the two surviving bandits moved away, circling behind, out of line-of-sight.
Owen reached Arvin and knelt. One touch told him the old guardsman was not coming back. He looked up and threw all this fury at the two bandits still circling. The force of this fury took the shape of a gale that knocked them back. Both hit the sturdy carriage.
• • •
Lia didn’t know what power Owen had used to blast the men back, but she knew she needed to get him away. She pushed through the rain to his side. :Owen, to me. Owen, get on my back.:
Turning blank brown eyes up to Lia’s flashing blue ones, Owen stared. “You came,” he mumbled. “You’re real.”
:Yes, Chosen. I came. We must flee. On my back, now.: She kept a cautious eye on the men. They recovered faster than she’d expected, scrambling to their feet. They were still armed—one with a sword. The other with a bow.
Owen looked down at his wrists. They were free of the rope. He didn’t know when that happened or how. He was exhausted, drained of everything except for grief at the loss of his guardsman who’d also been a friend.
“Boy! That’s a pretty horse there. Don’t want her to get hurt, do you?” Ernst called from the cover of his horse.
Lia saw the nocked arrows before Owen did. :Mount up. Please! Mount up!:
The fear in Lia’s mind-speech broke through the pain. Owen did as he was told. Only when he was in the saddle with Lia already galloping away did he see the danger as both Dev and Ernst let arrows fly.
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