Valdemar Books

by Lackey, Mercedes

  Gradually the good days came to outnumber the bad by a marked percentage, and it soon became possible to get the child to toe the line simply by reminding her of the fact that she was approaching “Bratly” behavior.

  Talia was exhausted, but feeling well-rewarded. As a concession to the incredible amounts of time she was putting in on the girl, she was first excused from her chores for a time, then from foal-watch duty. As the Brat became more and more Elspeth, she began to take those tasks up again. As Elspeth became more interested in Companions and less afraid of them, she became enthralled with the notion of foal-watch (which, in summer, was a far from onerous duty, though it could be—and often was—pure misery in the winter).

  Companion mares did not foal with the ease of horses; those who had Chosen, of course, had their Heralds or trainees to stay by them when the time came, but those who had not Chosen had no one. If there were complications, minutes could often mean the life of mare or foal. Keren did what she could, of course, but she couldn’t be everywhere, and she needed a certain amount of sleep herself. So one of the duties of the trainees was to spend the nights when an unpartnered Companion mare was nearly ready to foal constantly by her side. Talia had one such stint just after Midsummer, and Elspeth begged so hard to share it with her that Talia relented and gave in.

  She hadn’t expected anything to come of it—nor, from what she could pick up from Rolan, was the mare herself expecting to drop for at least a week. But much to everyone’s surprise, just before midnight the mare awakened Talia and her charge with urgent nudges, labor well under way.

  It was Elspeth who ran to fetch Keren when it was evident to Talia’s experienced eye that the foal was breech; Elspeth petted the mare’s head and cooed to her (the creature a few months ago from which she would have fled in terror) while Keren and Talia got the foal turned. And it was Elspeth who helped the shaking little colt to his feet afterward and helped rub him down with coarse toweling. The mare imparted a message to Keren as the little one first began to suckle; Keren grinned, and carefully pulled a few hairs from her tail, and a sleepy but overjoyed Elspeth was presented with a ring and bracelet braided on the spot, as a “thank-you present from his mum.” She put them on immediately and refused to take them off—and thereafter, when Talia was sometimes expecting a temperamental outburst, she would often see the child stroke the bracelet, gulp hard, and exert control over herself. That night signaled the real turning-point.

  At last, well past Midsummer, Elspeth approached her mother, and asked permission (so politely that Selenay’s mouth fell open) to watch Talia at her afternoon classes.

  “Have you asked Talia if she minds an audience?” the Queen asked her transformed offspring.

  “Yes, lady-mother. She said it was all right to come to the morning ones, too, but I’ve got different lessons from her then, so I didn’t think that would be a very good idea. I’m supposed to be watching the fighters training in the afternoon though, and riding, so that’s the same if I’m doing it with the Collegium students, isn’t it? And—I’m tired of doing it alone. Please?”

  The Queen gave her permission, and turned to Talia (who had accompanied Elspeth but had not spoken during the interview) as the child left the room.

  “I can’t believe my eyes and ears!” she exclaimed. “Is that the same child who terrorized her servants this winter? You’ve worked miracles!”

  “Elspeth’s worked miracles,” Talia corrected. “I just had to give her reasons to change. I think we’re all fortunate that this Hulda creature only had a really free hand with her for less than two years. If she’d had Elspeth at any earlier age, I don’t think there would have been much anyone could have done to change her back.”

  “Then I thank all the gods that you discovered it was Hulda that was behind the change. All I knew for certain was that Elspeth gradually began to become a problem. I couldn’t even take her on rides with me anymore; she had hysterics when Caryo came near—hysterics only Hulda could calm,” Selenay said thoughtfully. “I can’t believe how clever Hulda was about all this. The worst we thought she was doing was giving the child some inflated notions about her own importance. She claimed it was only a phase Elspeth was going through. And I was having some problems of my own in dealing with her. She was growing to look more and more like her father every day, and it was sometimes very hard for me to deal with her because of that. I could never be sure if I were making a rational judgment about her behavior or one based on dislike of the man she resembled. Talamir proposed fostering her; it’s common enough to cause no comment. Poor old man, he simply didn’t feel that he was capable of handling so young a child. Then, when we thought we had a solution, he was murdered.”

  Talia bit her lip. “So you know it for a fact now?”

  “We found a vial of a rather strong heart medicine among the things she left behind. A little of it is beneficial—but too much, and the heart gives out in strain—exactly as Talamir’s did. Poor Talamir; we always seemed to be stretching out to each other across a vast gulf of years—and never quite meeting. I know he did his very best for me, but he was too embarrassed by the situation to ever feel comfortable about being my confidant. And he was too much of a gentleman to give me a good set-down when I obviously needed it; not even verbally.”

  “Well, I certainly can’t spank you!” Talia retorted, with a touch of exasperation at the self-pitying mood the Queen had fallen into.

  “Oh, no?” Selenay laughed. “That sounded like a well-placed verbal spank to me!”

  Talia reddened. “I-I apologize. I have no right to speak to you like that.”

  “Quite the contrary. You have every right to do so; the same right that Talamir had and didn’t exercise.” Selenay regarded the girl with her head cocked slightly to one side. “You know, the tales all claim that the wisdom of the Queen’s Own knows no age barrier, and I’m beginning to believe the tales don’t say everything. You’re just as much my Herald as if you had twice your years, as well as being Elspeth’s. And believe me, little one, I intend never to have to do without you!”

  Ten

  Several days later, the same topics came up again in conversation between Talia and the Queen.

  “Bad enough that Hulda vanished,” Selenay said, more than annoyed—angered, in fact—at herself for letting the woman escape almost literally out of her own hand. “I meant to have someone question her under the Truth Spell about ‘my lord’; even though I don’t think she would have been able to tell us much. But Kyril has discovered that the immigration records on her have vanished as well.”

  “Bright Havens! Then we may never learn who she was working with. According to Skif, the man she spoke with was always hooded and masked, and he doubts she even knew who he was,” Talia was troubled; more troubled than she was willing to admit. “But is she likely to give us further problems?”

  “I doubt it. What could she do, after all? Even Melidy is recovering—as much as she can.”

  “That’s very good to hear,” Talia sighed with relief. ‘Then whatever that drug was, it isn’t going to have any lasting effects?”

  “The Healers say not. And I can’t tell you how grateful I am to hear that you seem to have cured Elspeth’s fear of Companions.”

  “It’s rather remarkable how it vanished when Hulda did,” Talia remarked dryly. “It didn’t take more than a few visits to Rolan and the others to cure it. She adores them now.”

  “I’d noticed,” Selenay replied with a wry twist of her mouth. “Especially after Elspeth suddenly decided she wanted to share my afternoon rides with Caryo again. That gives me a thought. I know you’re busy, more so than ever before, but could you spare me an hour or so a week?”

  Talia sighed. “I’ll make the time, somehow. Why?”

  “I’d like you to take Talamir’s place at Council.”

  Talia choked. “What? Now? Why?”

  “Why not? You’ll have to take it sooner or later. I’d like you to get used to the machinations goi
ng on, and I’d like the Councilors to get used to seeing you there. You needn’t say anything during the sessions at all, but you just might see something that I wouldn’t, that would be useful to know.”

  “What could I possibly see?”

  “Perhaps nothing—but perhaps a great deal. Besides, this will give you a certain amount of protection. Having you at my Council table will make it very clear that I will not ignore attempts to harm you just because you’re not a ‘real’ Herald yet.”

  “May I make a condition?”

  “Certainly.”

  “I’d like Elspeth with me; that way she won’t feel left out, and it will show her more clearly than anything I could tell her that the job of reigning is work.”

  “I agree—and I would never have thought of that.”

  “That’s not true,” Talia protested.

  “It is, and you know it. And since you’re acting as Queen’s Own, you might as well call me by my given name. I’m getting tired of being ‘highnessed’ and ‘majestied.’ To you, I am just Selenay.”

  “Yes, maj—Selenay,” Talia replied, returning the Queen’s smile.

  “The next Council meeting is just after the noon meal, two days from now. Till then?”

  Elspeth had arrived promptly for Talia’s arms-lesson with Alberich, and thereafter never missed one. The child seemed to be fascinated by the different styles the Armsmaster was training them in. The rest of the trainees, warned in advance that Elspeth would be watching, went about their normal activities with only a hint of stiltedness. After a few moments, they began pausing now and again for a nod or a friendly word with the child, attempting to act as if she were just another trainee.

  Before very long, they no longer had to act. It seemed natural to accept her as one of them.

  Elspeth was a silent observer for a week or two when Alberich evidently decided he had an idea he wished to try. And in a fashion typical to Alberich, he did so without telling Talia about it beforehand.

  When he’d finished with Talia, his eye lighted on Elspeth, seemingly by accident—though Talia was well aware that where lessons were concerned nothing Alberich did was by accident. “You—child!” he barked. “Come here!”

  Talia saw Elspeth’s chin begin to tighten and her nose to tilt up—a sure sign that she was about to revert to her old behavior. She managed to catch the girl’s eye and made what Elspeth had taken to calling the “Royal Awful” face. Elspeth giggled and fingered her bracelet, all haughtiness evaporated, and she obeyed Alberich with commendable docility.

  “Look, all of you,” he said, giving a short practice blade to her. “At this age, she has learned no bad habits so there is nothing for her to unlearn. She has more flexibility than an acrobat, and she’ll learn more quickly than any three of you put together. Name, child?”

  “Elspeth, sir.”

  He demonstrated one of the primary exercises for her. “Can you do that?”

  A tiny frown between her brows, Elspeth did her best to imitate his movements. He made some minor corrections, then ran her through the exercise several more times, the last at full speed.

  “There, you see? This is what you are striving to imitate—the agile and receptive mind and body of the young child. And watch—”

  He suddenly attacked her in such a way that the natural counter for her to make was the exercise he’s just taught her. She performed so flawlessly that she drew impromptu applause from the other students.

  “At this stage, once learned, never forgotten. Try to emulate her.”

  At Alberich’s command, they returned to sparring with one another. He beckoned to Talia. “You have charge of this one?” he asked, as though he had no idea of Elspeth’s identity.

  “Yes, sir,” she replied respectfully.

  “I should like to include her in the lessons. This can be arranged?”

  “Easily sir. Would you like to learn weapons-work, instead of just watching, Elspeth?”

  “Oh, yes!” the child responded eagerly, her eyes shining. “Only—”

  “Yes? Alberich prompted.

  “You won’t hit me too hard, please, sir? Not tike you hit Griffon.”

  Alberich laughed, something Talia hadn’t seen him do very often. “I gauge my punishments by the thickness of my students’ skulls, child. Griffon has a very thick skull.”

  Griffon, who was close enough to hear every word, grinned and winked at the girl.

  “I think,” Alberich continued, “That you have not so thick a skull, so I shall only beat you a little. Now, we might as well begin with what I just taught you.”

  Talia realized as she watched them that Alberich had helped to deliver the death-blow to the Brat. Now there was only Elspeth.

  After that, though there were occasional brief lapses, the child was able to maintain her good behavior with very little effort. Throughout the hot days of that summer, she rapidly became the pet of the Collegium, although she was never in any danger of being spoiled, as everyone remembered only too well what the Brat had been like.

  Rather than simply watching things, she began volunteering to help. At archery practice she brought water and arrows to replace those broken, at weapons practice, chalk and dry towels. She did her best to help groom Companions and clean tack, and not just Rolan and his gear, but turning a hand to help anyone who happened to be there. When it was Talia’s turn at chores during “their” afternoons, Elspeth even insisted on doing her share; Mero the Cook soon began looking forward to having her in the kitchen and always had a special treat for his helpers on the days that she and Talia shared the work. Elspeth even had a certain fascination for the mending chores, never having known before how it was that torn clothing came to be repaired. She was not very good at it though, not having the patience for tedious work, and preferred to do something active, like sorting the clothing into piles of “still good enough,” “wear only to work out,” and “hopeless”—her own terms, quickly adopted by the rest. “Hopeless” was a particular favorite—the mender in question enacting mourning scenes over the offending garment. It got to be a regular game, one all of them enjoyed to the hilt.

  By the time the leaves were turning, no one could imagine the Collegium without Elspeth running about with the trainees.

  One chilly afternoon, with the last desiccated leaves blowing against Talia’s window, there was a quiet knock on her door. When Talia opened it, Sherrill was standing there—in Whites.

  Talia was speechless for a moment—then hugged her friend as hard as she could, exclaiming breathlessly, “You did it! You did it!”

  Sherrill hugged back, one happy tear escaping from her eyes. “I guess I did,” she said when Talia finally let her go. “You’re the first to know, except for Elcarth.”

  “I am? Oh, Sherri—I don’t know what to say—it’s wonderful! I’m so glad for you! When are you leaving on your assignment?”

  “Next week,” she said, seeming to feel more than a little awkward suddenly, “and I had another reason for coming here—seeing as I’m sort of your mentor—well—there’s something I have to tell you about before I leave.”

  “Go on,” Talia replied, wondering why her friend was so ill-at-ease.

  “Well—what do you think of—boys?”

  “I never really thought about it, much,” she replied.

  “I mean, do you like them? You seem to—like Skif a lot.”

  “I’m not like Keren, if that’s what you mean.”

  “No, it isn’t,” Sherrill squirmed in frustration. “You know—about babies and all that, right?”

  “I should hope so, seeing as they’d planned on marrying me off before I came here!” Talia replied with some amusement. “And I think I’ve helped Keren with more foals than you ever have in just one year on foal-watch! I think they wait for me!”

  “Well, do you know how not to have them? I mean, you must have noticed that you don’t often see a pregnant Herald, and we’re hardly a celibate bunch ....”

  “Yes
in answer to your second question,” Talia said, thinking wryly of the nocturnal activities of her next-door neighbor Destria. “But no to your first!”

  “We’ve got something the Healers make up for us,” Sherrill said, obviously relieved that she wasn’t going to have to explain the facts of life to her young friend. “It’s a powder—you take some every day, except when you’re having moon-days. It doesn’t even taste bad, which is truly amazing considering the way most of their potions taste. You can also use it to adjust your cycles if you have to, if you know you’re going to be in a situation where having your moon-days would be really awkward, for instance. You just stop taking it earlier, or keep on longer. I figured I’d better tell you about it, or it was possible no one would. I know you haven’t needed it yet—but you might want it soon if the gleam I’ve been seeing in Skif s eyes means anything.”

  “You remembered to tell me this on the day you got your Whites?” Talia asked incredulously, ignoring the comment about Skif. “Oh, Sherri, whatever did I do to deserve a friend like you?”

  The powder worked just as well as the little sponges Sherrill had shown her how to use in place of the rag-clouts for moon-days, and Talia was more than grateful to Sherrill for telling her about it. Being able to adjust her cycles was wonderful in and of itself—which was just as well, since she never really got a chance to test the efficacy of the other application.

  She and Skif were so often thrown together that Talia had lost any self-consciousness around him, and had certainly long since unconsciously relegated him to the category of “safe” males, especially after the help he’d been with the Hulda affair. It helped that they were much of an age and size and that the normally rowdy Skif muted his voice and actions around her, as if being aware how easily she could be startled or frightened by a male. They had started out being quite good friends—but now he was being attracted to her in another way, as his mealtime behavior had so ardently demonstrated. So what occurred next between them was hardly surprising.