Passages

by Passages (epub)

  Izli turned and put her hand on the Whites. “Do you have to wear them to make the horse come?”

  “No,” Imra said, and she realized she said the word too loud, too sharp. That single word carried so much of her pain that it held power, and Izli moved away from her, away from that power. It was dark and consuming and threatened to eat at her, take her down with it the moment she remembered what she had lost.

  Imra stumbled a step as she moved to the Whites and placed a shaking hand on them. She let tears fall and heard the pat as they made dark spots on the pristine cloth. A swirling, howling abyss of despair filled the room.

  Until . . .

  :I lost myself for several years, dear one. While the world around me lived, and changed, and went on without me. She would not want you to give up on life, not when you still have the gifts all of those Chosen have.:

  It was Sae’s voice, but it wasn’t. The words weren’t hers. They were Aerus’ from earlier. It would be so like Sae to remind her of important things. A mental tap to the forehead, as if to say wake up.

  She had no idea how long she stood there, her hand on the Whites, her mind’s eye focused on Saelihn. Aerus was right. She’d known somehow, about Imra’s loss, because sadness finds kith and kin, and in that shared devastation there can be comfort.

  “Imra?”

  Imra slowly sat on the bed. She pulled the Whites to her and hugged them to her chest, her eyes closed. “Her name was Saelihn. I was Chosen when I was your age. I’d raced across a field to find my brother and tripped, but he’d fallen into a well. She found me and showed me where. She spoke to me in my mind, a voice so full of love—” Imra felt tears welling up, and she let them fall. “I felt as if I were whole, and the world opened up for me.”

  Izli didn’t say anything as she moved to sit on the bed beside Imra.

  “We were together for eighteen years.” Imra sniffed. “We were on our way back from Circuit. Coming from the south. I was tired and wanted to be in my own bed by nightfall, though Saelihn insisted we should find a Waystation and rest there. But I wasn’t listening and insisted on a path around the mountain. It was a narrow, bending, treacherous path. A stupid decision. But Saelihn took me anyway, because she knew I’d try it on my own if she didn’t.”

  There was silence in the morning, an escalating tension.

  Imra took a deep breath. “I didn’t see the rocks. But I could hear them above us. She . . . tried to run, to get us out of the way. But I was hit and knocked off her back.”

  Izli had her hands on her face, her eyes wide.

  “I don’t remember anything after that. Just darkness and a consuming loss. When I finally woke in Collegium, I was . . . Saelihn was . . .” Imra sobbed. “She saved me, stood over me, took the pounding of the rocks to protect . . . me. They found her—”

  “No!” Izli was on her feet and wrapping her arms around Imra, holding her tight. “No, please. You don’t have to tell me anything else. I can’t even . . . I don’t want to know.”

  Imra wrapped her own arms around Izli and sobbed. She cried the tears she’d held back for nearly a year, held in the arms of a child she barely knew.

  Minutes passed before the tears stopped and Imra felt spent. Hollow. But she felt, in a sense, renewed. She had not told anyone or spoken about Sae’s death to anyone.

  Until now.

  Izli wiped at her face, took the Whites and carefully placed them back in the bag. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know they could—”

  Imra nodded. “They can. And it’s hard to be without her voice in my mind. I am no longer a Herald. I haven’t been for nearly a year. I left Collegium to find a family again, a place to belong in a different paradigm. They live in Devin, or they did before I was Chosen. My brother should still be there . . .” Her voice trailed off when she heard a commotion downstairs.

  “What is that?” Izli said and pulled back from Imra as the sound became loud.

  Seconds later the door burst open and two men Imra recognized from the square the morning before moved in, followed by a large man with shaggy salt and pepper hair. He shoved Izli out of the way and rounded on Imra. “That’s her! Arrest her and lock her up!”

  “What?” Izli shouted. “Connak, what are you doing? She hasn’t done anything wrong!”

  “She’s incited the village against its leader. She’s a troublemaker, and I was warned by the Queen to be wary of such interlopers who would take advantage of the unrest in the world. She’ll stand trial as soon as we find Reyis and arrest him, too.”

  The two men grabbed Imra by her arms and unceremoniously led her out of the inn. People stared as she was manhandled and shoved against the center well. Imra half-expected the townspeople to run away, so as not to become a target of Connak’s anger.

  To her surprise, they didn’t. In fact, several of the women stepped forward and shoved the two men out of the way and stood between them and Imra. She looked around in alarm. What were they doing? Why were they putting themselves in the path of what was obvious danger?

  “Knock it off, Connak,” Merelyn said as she stepped out of the inn with Izli behind her. “Imra’s done nothing wrong.”

  “Like hell she hasn’t.” He whirled on Merelyn and stepped up into her space, but Merelyn didn’t move. No one did. “I’ve been to Haven, to ask the Queen for her help.” He turned and addressed the growing circle around them. “And she has assured me I am right in taxing the use of the lake on my land because it is mine. A Herald will be dispatched as soon as one is available and will back up my claims. There will be no more disputes.” He glared around as if to challenge anyone from speaking out.

  Imra had seen this situation many, many times in her travels. She had also settled arguments with less of a claim than Connak’s. She knew he was lying. She knew in her heart he had not been to Haven because the Queen would never have agreed with him, nor would she have put up with his bull-headedness. And he hadn’t been gone long enough to get to Haven and back. But she wasn’t a Herald anymore.

  “You are such a liar, grandson,” said a familiar voice to the group’s right.

  Reyis, accompanied by Riduil and Simon, led the large chocolate mare she’d ridden home on last night. And seated atop the mare was Aerus herself. A dark cloak covered her shoulders and the horse.

  Connak stepped forward as if to challenge Reyis and his grandmother. “You think dragging this ancient remnant of a long-gone Hold changes things? I am the leader in this village.”

  “By what vote?” Aerus said. She did not dismount, and Imra smiled. Her seat put her above everyone, even Connak. “Where is your legal tenure? What voice made you king, Connak? Surely not the people assembled here.”

  “The council made me leader, and you cannot challenge it. Only a Herald can.”

  “But we have a Herald here,” Izli burst out. “And you would have put her in jail!”

  Imra cringed inwardly. No, no, dear child.

  :Let her speak, my dear one.:

  Voices, murmurs. The people glanced around as if to see a Herald and their Companion appear from the air. Izli pushed her way through, Imra’s Whites in her hands. She stood in front of Imra and held them out. “I can’t believe—I won’t believe—that you are only a Herald if you have a Companion. A Herald is the voice of the Queen. They fight for justice. They take care of Valdemar.”

  Reyis handed the reins over to Riduil and walked through the crowd to stand beside Imra. “Aerus told me you were once a Herald, not long ago. One she met in Polsim many years ago. And from what I’ve seen—what I now know—you have dedicated your life to aiding us in our time of need. You have listened to this village’s bickering and its successes. In just the short amount of time you have been with us,” his voice rose just a bit as he looked around, “Imra has taught Merelyn to cook—”

  “Ah, bugger off, Reyis!” Merelyn commented.

  O
thers laughed.

  “—and she helped us organize as a village should. Just this morning, the original council met with Aerus Carnei, and we created a new contract.” He reached into his jerkin and held up a folded document. “To restart and build the surface irrigation from the lake we the people of the town of Carnai own, as set up by the original agreement negotiated by another Herald.” He held up the document Aerus had given to Imra the evening before.

  “Lies!” Connak stomped forward. “I am the leader. This woman isn’t a Herald! She has no say here!”

  “And you never traveled to Haven,” Imra finally yelled out. Bolstered by Reyis’s words, she straightened her shoulders and took a step toward Connak. He was so much taller than she was, and he had bullies on his side. But Izli’s words carried her along. “I no longer have my Companion, but I still have the Queen’s sense of what is right and what is wrong. Wrong is paying lackeys to bully others into getting your way. Wrong is taxing the village to use a body of water that was never included in the original document.” She pointed to the document in Reyis’s hand. “That document. Sealed until witnessed yesterday upon its opening.” She moved her finger and pointed it at Connak. “You were never in Haven because I came from Haven, down a road you have never traveled.”

  “You lie!”

  “I’m afraid not,” Aerus said. “I have friends in Polsim, and I’m sure they will testify that you have spent the past week in Polsim, gambling.” She smiled sweetly at him. “If you protest, I am more than sure those same friends will call in your debts?”

  Reyis lowered the document and raised his other hand to command attention. “I raise the vote of the people of Carnei to dissolve the council set up by Connak Errel, and reestablish the former council.”

  A resounding cheer went up around them. Imra felt her heart soar and clutched her Whites to her chest. So much had happened in such a short time. Her head was spinning.

  “Vote seconded,” Riduil shouted out. “All in favor?”

  Another cheer went up.

  “Passed!” Aerus held up her hand. “And now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to visit this inn and have some of that stew Simon Dod raved about in the middle of our meeting this morning.”

  Riduil helped the matron down from her horse as Izli ran up to her and led her to the inn. Villagers patted each other on their backs as the new council—the former council—formed a circle around Connak.

  “Imra.”

  She nearly jumped out of her skin to see Reyis was still beside her. His expression was warm in the midmorning sun, and he tucked the papers back into his jerkin. He then placed his hand on the Whites against her chest. “I can’t even imagine what kind of loss you’ve suffered. When I was a child, my sister was Chosen, and I resented the Heralds for a very long time, because they took her away from me and my family. She was killed by Karse soldiers, and I blamed the Heralds and the Queen. But, to know you, and to know your grace and your fairness, tells me that I misjudged them and their purpose. Reading the words laid out in those documents told me my sister had labored hard to set out the rules of Carnei.”

  Imra blinked a few times. “It was your sister who originally solved the irrigation issue?”

  He nodded. “Not many really remember. Not many know she and Islian passed from this place a year after. Like I said—I blamed the Heralds. But not anymore.”

  Reyis moved his hand from her Whites to her upper arm. “You may not wear them anymore, Imra. But you live them, as you were born to do.” He laughed when he heard Merelyn’s voice calling for Imra. “And as you were born to keep helping Merelyn navigate that kitchen.”

  Imra laughed as they made their way to the inn. She tucked the Whites under her arm as they entered and smiled at the villagers inside, many talking and laughing, and making plans to work tirelessly until the new irrigation channels were in place. Once in the kitchen, she placed her Whites in a cupboard away from the mess of cooking, rolled up her sleeves, and gave instructions to those volunteering to help.

  “Hey, Imra,” Simon Dod said from the bar. “I nominate you as new village leader!”

  “Seconded,” Reyis called out.

  Imra put her hands to her face as those gathered threw up a cheer for her. Silence entered the square as everyone present waited for her answer.

  :I think you’ve finally come home,: the ghost of Saelihn said to her, and Imra felt the memory of her Companion’s love and pride.

  “Well?” Simon said, his hand out. “Will you stay and lead us, Imra?”

  Looking at their faces, Imra wiped away tears and nodded. “Yes . . .” She fanned at her face with her hands. “I would be honored.”

  The Border Within

  Brenda Cooper

  The chill of a damp spring breeze bit Marjom’s cheeks as she and Herald Graylan rode in the center of a wide road shadowed by tall trees. Her arm hurt where she’d wrenched it in a fight that morning, and she was so tired it was hard to keep her head up and watch the sides of the road for wild animals or bandits.

  Marjom’s Companion, Hannra, Mindspoke, :We’re almost there.:

  As if he’d heard Hannra, Graylan echoed her. “The inn is close.”

  She answered them both back at once as she straightened her spine and stretched. “I could ride for another hour if I had to.”

  Neither of them called her on the possible lie.

  The Forest Sow Inn needed a new coat of paint and a carpenter’s touch. Nevertheless, light spilled through the windows and promised heat, meat, and wine. The stable girl, Lisette, jogged up happily, a wide smile on her face. She curtsied to the two Companions, Hannra and Yinna, her eyes shining with adoration for the graceful, silver-white horses that she clearly knew were much more. Astride Hannra, Herald Marjom noted with wry amusement that Heralds evidently didn’t rate as highly in the child’s view.

  As the girl bent low, Hannra said to Marjom, :Maybe you should greet me that way.:

  :Unlikely, old friend,: Marjom retorted. :You’d get a fat head.:

  Hannra stopped, lifting her head so her Herald could dismount. Marjom clutched a hank of Hannra’s mane for balance as she slid off her saddle. The ground slapped her feet as she took her full weight onto them. Damned old bones.

  Herald Graylan slid easily off Yinna, but he looked over at Marjom with concern, making the older Herald grimace. She must have let out some audible note of pain. Well, damn Graylan, too. Someday he’d understand the difference between young bones and old ones.

  Lisette almost danced toward the stables as the Companions walked amiably behind her.

  Marjom used a wide smile to put a good face on her bad feet but lost it again as she started toward the inn door. Graylan came up beside her and offered his hand, but she shooed him away. “I’m fine.” By the time they got through the door, she could walk more or less normally. The first few steps after riding all day hurt, but she’d only fallen from the pain once, and that had been after an ice storm three weeks ago. She was fine. Just fine.

  She straightened her uniform, the movement wrenching her sore arm. The bloodstains from this morning’s fight with three teenaged bandits had faded to dull red-brown, and light brown dust from the cold wind that had harried them through the afternoon coated the fabric. Graylan might look worse. The same fight with the teens had resulted in a rip in his pants. As if to underscore how ragged they looked, an older couple stood up to give them a table near the fire. She glanced down to verify they were leaving empty bowls before sliding into the offered seat with thanks.

  A familiar serving girl filled glasses with both winter red wine and water. Before she could take the first sip of wine, the innkeeper, Hans, brought them bowls of vegetable stew, orange with fat winter carrots and too much pepper. She managed one bite before the door flew open to admit Herald Kenso. He was round for a Herald, with an easy gait and broad smile. She raised her glass, happy to see h
im. His Whites were still quite white and didn’t show any sign of scuffs, mending, or even laundering.

  She scooted over as he neared their table. “Well met,” she said as he sat down. “What brings you out here to the very edge of Valdemar?”

  “It’s time I took my turn watching Hardorn.”

  “We can use the help.” Marjom shook her head, mentally abbreviating the day’s events. “We had to sort two refugee trains today. A big one with three families—twenty-two people!—was clean. They’re farmers Valdemar will have a use for. There was one of Ancar’s plants in a group of four deserting soldiers, though. Problem was, he had made himself well-liked. It took all afternoon to prove him a danger.”

  Kenso took the water glass that had appeared in front of him and drank it down in one long pull. “How’d you prove it?”

  She sighed. “We knew he was bad. You develop an instinct after decades out here. But we had to dig up facts to convince his three new best friends.”

  Graylan leaned forward. “We interviewed each of them separately and picked apart their stories. Luckily, that also exonerated the other three, who plan to fight for us. Every sword helps.”

  Kenso had already finished half his wine. “You’ll have to teach me the best tricks.” He turned to Marjom. The look on his face made her stiffen. A brief flash of . . . sympathy? “You’ve been called to Haven. They’re expecting you in a week.”

  She almost dropped her water. Haven? “I’m needed here! We don’t have nearly enough Heralds to manage the Border and do any kind of normal Circuit. We could use twenty more, and two fistfuls of Healers!”

  Kenso’s hand stopped with his flask halfway to his mouth. He had gone quiet, maybe talking to his Companion, or perhaps trying to remember the exact words he was supposed to say. He was a kind, affable Herald, with good instincts and a heart that was twice as big as his rounded belly. He hadn’t been Chosen based on his memory or lightning-quick wit. She had ridden a full Circuit with him once, and they’d had to return to towns twice to find things he’d left behind and once to finish a conversation he’d left hanging.