Valdemar Books

by Lackey, Mercedes

“Maybe you should wear a crest of Valdemar on your forehead to remind me,” Firesong suggested facetiously.

  He snorted. “Don’t tempt me, if wearing one would prevent another dressing-down like last night! Teach me, or don’t, but don’t play guessing games with me! That’s all I ask.”

  Firesong’s posture conveyed a certain amount of discomfort - possibly because Darian had hit on several of the things Silverfox had evidently chided him about. “Silverfox has promised to sit in on our lessons if you don’t mind, and throw things at my head if I start getting unreasonable. And I wondered if you’d mind if we included that little Healer for the next couple of days? Having her there will keep me on better behavior, I suspect - and according to Nightwind, she could do with some of the same lessons you’re getting.”

  “Having both Silverfox and Keisha there is all right with me,” Darian said instantly, hoping he could keep himself from betraying the fact that he would welcome Keisha there for more reasons than just sharing the lessons. He was more than a little interested in Keisha, yes indeed, and he wouldn’t mind the opportunity to see more of her at all!

  “I’d also like to get the two of you working together now, so you can mesh your skills under my eye and not have to try it on your own,” Firesong continued, at last looking more at ease. “I work with Healers all the time, but the first time you try is often full of pitfalls. It’s like trying to do the kyanshi couple-dance when all you’ve ever done is children’s round-dances.” Darian sensed a sudden grin behind the mask. “Just thought you’d like to know what you’re in for.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Thanks,” he said dryly. “All I have ever done magically is children’s round-dances, you know! And now you want me to attempt a fiendishly complicated display piece that not one couple in a hundred ever tries!”

  “Nonsense,” Firesong dismissed. “Neither the magic nor the dance is as complicated as they look, which is part of the problem. Don’t worry, that’s why I want you to do it under my eye. I’ll walk you through it, and you’ll be amazed how quickly you pick it up.”

  “I’ll take your word for it,” Darian replied dubiously. “I suppose you’ll want to try this tonight?”

  “Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow.” Firesong clapped him on the shoulder. “Tonight I plan to go over what I attempted to hammer into your thick skull last night, since you so obligingly told me you’d gotten the trick of it.”

  Oh, hellfires. Now I’m in for it, and I don’t have any excuses. “Yes, Firesong,” Darian sighed. “I’ll be at the work-circle at sunset.”

  It was morning, but there was no real reason to leap out of bed, and Darian liked having the leisure to lie in the dark, thinking and listening to the birds twitter in the vines. After the magic lessons of last night, shared with Keisha, he had a lot to think about.

  She’d been attentive, very careful, with a fine, delicate mental touch. Much to Firesong’s amazement, they had meshed powers almost at once, with the same surety of mental “hand” reaching for “hand” as long-time partners.

  Firesong had at least been polite enough to keep his comment of :Oh, so you like girls, do you?: strictly Sent to Darian, but he hoped that Keisha hadn’t noticed his sudden blush.

  He’d been impressed - and although Keisha had not shown any such emotion on the surface, Darian could tell that beneath her calm exterior, she had been very close to tears of relief and joy.

  Well, she’s spent a long time not knowing how to use her Gift, and not only being able to use it, but to know she can ask someone else to augment her power, must be just exhilarating.

  He stretched and turned over on his side, with the scent of fresh linens and herbs tickling his nose. He could not imagine why other people had told him that Keisha was prickly. Serious, yes, and maybe too serious, but she’d had responsibility shoved at her for so long that she probably hadn’t learned how to have fun. But prickly?

  Yet, so far, Val, Nightwind, Healer Gil, and even Lord Breon had warned him that Keisha was touchy, difficult to get to know, and held people at arm’s length. He just didn’t see any of those things in her - unless, if by “touchy,” they meant that she didn’t have any sympathy for fools, if by “difficult to get to know” they meant that she didn’t talk about things she wasn’t sure of, and if by “keeping people at arm’s length” they meant that she was shy. She was certainly shy. That seemed a little odd in someone who had such a mob of siblings, but maybe she’d learned to be very self-contained because of that.

  People in Errold’s Grove respected her, but she didn’t have any suitors. She didn’t even have anyone he would have called a close friend. The young men of the village didn’t even seem to think of her as a girl.

  All the better for me. If they can’t see how pretty she is, that’s their problem. On the other hand, maybe it’s a bit difficult for anyone to think romantically about the person who’s patched you up after doing something really stupid, and threatened to hold your nose and pour medicine down your throat when you‘ve had a sick stomach.

  He grinned into the dimness. He could just see Keisha doing that, too!

  His pleasant thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the uncharacteristically rude entrance of a hertasi, who burst in through the front door. “Dar’ian! You are needed!” it cried as soon as the door flew open.

  He thrashed his way free of his covers, and flung himself out of bed. “Where?” he asked, stumbling into the room. “What’s the matter?”

  “The outsiders come! The Vale pillars - the others wait there - ” it said, and whisked out the door again, presumably to rouse other folks.

  The outsiders come ? Well, it can’t be an enemy attack, or there would be a lot more shouting going on outside. Besides, I don’t think even a hertasi would refer to an enemy attack as “the outsiders come.” With that in mind, he took some care in dressing, though he did so quickly, and left his weapons behind.

  When he reached the two pillars at the entrance, there weren’t too many of “the others” waiting; just Kel, Nightwind, and Snowfire. “What’s going on?” he asked, combing his hair with his fingers and confining it with a headband. He’d combed it properly before he left, of course, but all his efforts at looking neat had been destroyed when he ran.

  “Kel spotted an armed force with a pair of Heralds leading it heading this way as he started out on patrol this morning,” Snowfire said, as Kel nodded. “He came back to tell us, and I sent hertasi around to wake you all up.” To Darian’s chagrin, Snowfire looked as if he’d been up for hours, and had gotten the hertasi to give him a complete grooming while he waited for folk to muster out. How did he manage to do that?

  “So our reinforcements are here? Why are they coming here, instead of Kelmskeep?” Darian asked, attempting to neaten himself up.

  “They’re coming from Kelmskeep; at a guess, they overnighted there, and Lord Breon sent them on to us this morning,” Nightwind hazarded. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

  A drowsy-eyed Firesong joined them at that moment, yawning behind his mask, followed by Starfall. Firesong had thrown on a loose robe, and was still in the process of belting it about his slim waist. His hair showed signs of having been hastily braided, and his eyes still looked sleepy. “Ugh,” Firesong said with distaste. “Military types! Why on earth they should think that it’s admirable to shake everyone awake at dawn or before, I can never understand!”

  “The forrrce isss larrge enough to sssatisssfy you all, I think,” Kel put in, ignoring Firesong’s complaints with amusement. “I counted overrr a thousssand.”

  “I hope Breon sends some supplies with them,” Starfall said thoughtfully. “That is a lot of hungry mouths to feed. Well, we’ll manage, we generally do.”

  “I suspect that would be why he isn’t bivouacking them at Kelmskeep,” suggested Nightwind, with one hand on Kel’s neck and the other on Snowfire’s arm. “Well, we have room; I’m sure they brought tents, and we can camp them out here if there isn’t enough room in the Vale itself.”r />
  “For one thousand to fifteen hundred?” said Ayshen, who with Tyrsell and Hashi was the last to join them. “No problem.” He turned with a flourish of his tail, and issued orders in the hissing hertasi language to another of his kind that had trailed deferentially along behind him. The other bobbed an agreement and scampered off. Hweel raced in beneath the branches, heading straight for Snowfire, who extended his arm and braced himself for the weight as Hweel landed.’they’re within sight,” Snowfire reported, while Hweel transferred half his weight to Snowfire’s protected shoulder.

  And so they were. Darian peered out into the forest. The first of the reinforcements, tiny in the distance and further dwarfed by the giant trees, came into view on the road. They were easier to see, perhaps, because in the lead were two Heralds, white uniforms and white Companions making them doubly visible.

  They moved at a brisk pace, which showed that they were in good shape. As they neared, just at the point where Huur was visible as an escort, flapping lazily along just above the heads of the leaders, Firesong suddenly laughed out loud.

  “What?” Starfall asked sharply, casting a glance at his son.

  “Nothing to worry about,” Firesong replied, his voice overlaid with humor. “I just recognized someone I know very well.” By this time, the group was within calling distance, and he stepped forward.

  “I might have known you’d be unable to resist a fight, you terrible woman!” he shouted. “If you were a Hawkbrother, we’d name you ‘Fire-eater.’ Aren’t you ever going to retire?”

  “Not while things stay interesting!” the righthand Herald called back, a woman with a long blonde braid streaked with silver, whose easy grin matched her light words. “Firesong, you useless popinjay! What are you doing here?”

  “Corrupting our youth, of course,” Firesong replied, backing up a pace and clapping his hand on Darian’s shoulder. “I’m tired of perverting Hawkbrothers, I thought I’d start on Valdemarans. This is Dar’ian, my latest victim.”

  The Companions halted, the mixed troops behind them came to parade-rest, and both Heralds dismounted from their saddles with agility that gave the lie to the silver in their hair. The woman clasped Firesong’s hand first, followed by the man.

  “My friends, permit me to introduce you to the redoubtable Herald-Captain Kerowyn and Herald Eldan,” Firesong said, waving his free hand at them.

  Darian’s mouth dropped open. First, the famous Firesong, and now the equally famous Kerowyn? Who would show up here next? The Queen herself?

  “Heralds, these are the Elders of k’Valdemar Vale,” he continued. “My father, Starfall k’Vala, dyheli kingstag Tyrsell k’Vala k’Valdemar, Eldest hertasi Ayshen k’Leshya, kyree envoy Hashi, Scout-Captain Snowfire k’Vala, trondi’irn Nightwindk’Leshya, Silver Gryphon Kelvren, and my pupil, Darian Firkin k’Vala k’Valdemar.”

  Kerowyn saluted them all. “A very great pleasure, which, in spite of what Firesong implied, I hope remains a peaceful pleasure. These are your Crown reinforcements.” She waved at the waiting troops behind her - not all men, Darian saw; at least half of the mounted fighters were women. “I bring one mounted company of two hundred seasoned fighters out of my own Skybolts, and two green companies of regular Guard infantry at five hundred each. That’s twelve hundred fighters in all, with three full Healers and their six apprentices, and supply wagons and support personnel.”

  Some faint worry lines eased from Snowfire’s face. “If twelve hundred fighters can’t keep things under control here, we’ll need an army, not reinforcements. And if Herald-Captain Kerowyn can’t get the most out of every trooper she has, then you can stew my boots and serve them to me for dinner.”

  Kerowyn laughed, and shook her head. “Oh, I’m no miracle worker, but I think we’ll do all right, provided we use our heads. Have you a place where we can pitch camp?”

  “Bring your people with me, Herald-Captain,” Ayshen spoke up. “I’ll show you where to camp, and the amenities that you and your people can share with us. We can discuss other arrangements on the way.”

  “Good; thank you.” She nodded at Eldan, then made a hand signal. The troops snapped to attention. “I’ll see to the troops. Eldan will meet with you now, and you can brief him.”

  “I had bessst get to my patrrrol,” Kel said instantly. “I will make hassste and bring you the latessst intelligence.”

  He made good on his word, leaping into the air and clawing his way into the sky with tremendous wingbeats. None of the Valdemarans was startled, though several watched him with admiration; They might be green, yet they must be from some area where they had seen gryphons before now.

  Eldan and his Companion joined the Elders, while Kerowyn mounted hers and took her place at the head of the troops. Darian and the rest all moved off the trail to allow the troops to file past. Darian watched them, thinking how odd it was, that under other circumstances, he might have been one of them. If I’d run off, or if the village had sent me off to Lord Breon instead of apprenticing me - that could be me, carrying a pike and my pack. Huh.

  “Are you getting on all right?” Eldan asked Firesong in an undertone. “We haven’t had any news of you more recent than last summer.”

  “Actually, not at all bad,” Firesong said lightly. “We get along, Silverfox and I. You and the lady look well.”

  “Couldn’t be better; we’ve got four perfectly capable Weaponsmasters now, and she didn’t see any reason why they couldn’t take the trainees without her looking over their shoulders. Karal’s teaching some classes, if you can believe it. Things are so calm between Valdemar and Karse that his diplomatic skill is scarcely needed, so he’s teaching Karsite culture and language.”

  “Wonderful! He must love it.” Firesong sounded genuinely pleased. “An’desha is up to his eyebrows in shamanistic business, and I’ve never seen him happier. I left him in Kata’shin’a’in, helping to weave a new history-tapestry.” He straightened, and looked about. “Well, we can catch up later; now we should deal with business.” He bowed a little to Eldan. “So, Herald Eldan, would you and your Companion care to join our council for an explanation of what’s going on?”

  “That I would, Healing-Adept Firesong,” Eldan replied, with the same odd mingling of seriousness and humor that Firesong displayed. “Lead on.”

  Twelve

  It took most of the day to get the reinforcements settled in their encampment. They were entirely self-sufficient, having their own cook, tents, and supplies, but everyone agreed that being able to use the Vale’s facilities made their camp seem downright luxurious. They were not in the least shy about stripping and plunging into the hot pools, men and women together, and at any hour of the day or night one was as likely to encounter a clutch of Valdemarans there as a group of Tayledras. Most often, the two groups mingled; the so-called “green” troops were green only in the sense of not having seen real combat, for they had trained and bunked with the Skybolts, and had Skybolt senior officers. Those who couldn’t handle the accepting and flexible manners of Kero’s troopers had long since been weeded out. Tayledras and Guards got along very well, with the troopers holding to the attitude that, once on someone else’s home ground, you played by their rules and not by what was called “good manners” and “appropriate behavior” at home. “Stay polite and respectful and ask before you touch,” was the watchword in the camp, and as a result, everyone got along remarkably well.

  The next day Lord Breon and Val arrived for a real council of war, bringing with them their Weaponsmaster, who was Lord Breon’s second-in-command. With a storm threatening, they met in the common dining hall, taking up roughly a third of the available space. By common and unspoken consent, since this was hardly a secret council, anyone of the officers of sufficient rank who cared to listen in could do so as long as they stayed quiet.

  “What’s this Captain Kerowyn like, personally?” Lord Breon asked Firesong, as the assembled council waited for Kero and Eldan, who were the last to arrive. Today Firesong’s mask
seemed to be made all of fresh green leaves. Tayledras and a few of Kero’s officers lurked around the periphery of the group, and Darian saw a couple who were clearly Skybolts smile at that question.

  “You’ll like her,” Firesong promised him. “Kero can be counted on not to jump to any conclusions and not to fight unless she has to. She’s very straightforward, never hedges her answers or gives you the answer she thinks you want unless it’s also the true one. She’s got - oh, decades of practical experience; before she came to Valdemar and was Chosen she was a mercenary captain with her own company in Rethwellan - the Skybolts, the same group that came up here with her. So, like most mercenary captains, she doesn’t believe in wasting her limited resources, her fighters. She plans things, she doesn’t just charge in and hope for the best.”

  Darian saw nods of agreement from the Guards, and heard a great many murmurs of approval from the Hawkbrothers.

  Lord Breon also nodded and seemed satisfied, at least to Darian. “That’s exactly the kind of person we need for this situation. Now, I take it that Herald Eldan is more of the diplomat?”

  “Yes; they make a good team that way.” Darian definitely heard good-humored affection in Firesong’s voice. “Kero’s too blunt to make a good diplomat. They’ve been together since Kero was Chosen, and Selenay prefers to keep them as an official team, since Kero would probably find a sneaky way to accomplish the same thing without actually disobeying orders. You’ll like him, too.”

  Just then, Kerowyn and Eldan showed up, but only Eldan was wearing Whites. Kero had changed into something of the same cut as a Herald’s Whites, but it was all of gray leather, well-worn and practical, but not white, by any stretch of the imagination.

  “I thought you were a Herald!” Val exclaimed, obviously without thinking before he opened his mouth.

  He really has a problem that way, Darian noted. Does he ever think before he speaks?

  “I am. I’m also officially on war-duty as of this moment, and I am not wearing one of those ‘oh-shoot-me-now’ outfits while I am in the front line. Eldan gets to be the obviously important person - he’s the diplomat, and he won’t be in the front line of fighting as long as I am in command unless he changes into something inconspicuous first.” She cast Eldan a significant glance, which Eldan ignored. This was evidently an argument of long standing between them. “I’m the one in charge if there’s fighting, and I’d better stay hard to hit if I’m going to stay that way.” She managed a very thin smile. “If this outfit is good enough for Weaponsmaster-Herald Alberich, it’s good enough for me.”