Tempest

by Mercedes Lackey

  Letia said, “The mayor thought a feast celebrating the improved prosperity over the last two years was in order, now that things are more peaceful. The Lake District had profitable fishing seasons, Lineas better harvests than hoped, and the weather is lovely for early summer. He suggested a couple of Heralds from this area may be of benefit. I was born and raised here, which is why the temporary assignment to the city council,” she said. “The Circuit Heralds told me you’d come back, so I sent the suggestion to Haven. I hope you weren’t already on assignment.”

  Jeris laughed. “Only the assignment of writing five years of gleaned Shin’a’in culture, language, and customs into archival copies for the Collegium.”

  Cara piped up, “Will you show me that when we get to the Collegium? I should like to know.”

  “If you’re still interested, certainly,” he replied.

  Letia gave him another look. Reluctantly, he relayed his belief Cara might have the Bardic Gift, and certainly a strong musical knack. “Oh,” Letia said. She knelt down in front of Cara, to the girl’s eye level. “I know it’s probably hard for you, but for your safety, you need to not sing where you might be heard, okay? Particularly where people might not be on their best behavior or making their best decisions, like an inn.”

  Cara nodded slowly. “I like singing. I just want to sing.”

  “I know, sweetie, but here isn’t the place. When I see you in Haven, I’d love to hear you, though,” Letia said, standing back up. She looked at Jeris. “Is she to attend the feast or stay here?”

  He frowned. “It’s likely to be long and boring, isn’t it? Not that—” He glanced around the sparse room. “—there’s much for her to do here. Cara? What would you like?”

  “May I come with you? I’ll be good.”

  “Would that be acceptable to the mayor?” Jeris asked.

  Letia smiled. “I’m sure he can find a place for her. But,” she said to Cara, “we need to be sure you’re properly dressed. Do you have nice clothes with you?”

  Cara pulled her best outfit out of her pack. “Will this work?”

  Letia gave it a once-over. “Mostly. We’ll need to spend a little time on it and you, though, and do a little bit of shopping.”

  Cara looked hopeful. “Can we, d—sir?” Jeris suspected she nearly said “daddy.” He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

  “I can afford a few reasonable trinkets, if my fellow Herald believes them necessary,” he said. “Letia? Can you help her?”

  She smiled brightly. “My pleasure! It’s late, and we have a few days to get you fitted out properly. What say you two come to the Town Hall in the morning? You can watch the proceedings, and after that, we go shopping.”

  Jeris nodded. “A sound plan.” Cara beamed.

  Letia gave directions to the town hall, then left. Cara settled on the bed, while Jeris prepared his bedroll. She broke the silence. “What should I call you?”

  A fair question. Jeris took a moment to respond. “For now, either ‘Jeris’ or ‘sir’ is probably safest.” A quick glance showed her crestfallen expression. “You’re traveling with a Herald, Cara. I’m concerned about the group you noted downstairs. They left after they saw me, which seems odd. If they knew who you are, well, they might do something . . . dangerous. If nothing else, I promised your mother to keep you safe.”

  Her voice was small and more childlike than normal. “Okay.” The bedclothes rustled as she nestled in.

  Jeris felt his heart twist at that word. Was it him? Was it her projecting with her Gift? He didn’t know, and Halath couldn’t tell him. He tucked her in and sat down on the side of the bed. “I’m not going anywhere without you, okay? I’ll be here in the morning when you wake up. At most, I’ll be getting us food.” Cara nodded, looking only a little reassured. He gave her a small smile. “Sleep well. Wake me up if you need anything.”

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  Jeris settled himself to sleep. :You sleep well, too, my friend,: he told Halath.

  :And you.:

  • • •

  The Council meeting tended toward the dry and boring, as is the wont of such. Jeris felt pleased with Cara’s behavior, though. As a preview of a formal dinner, she was quiet and attentive, with a few questions to him when she didn’t understand something.

  When the meeting adjourned, they met with Letia near the front dais. Letia introduced Jeris and Cara to the mayor, who—at least to Cara—presented as a jovial, courteous person.

  He even issued an invitation to Cara directly. “My friend Herald Letia informs me, young miss, you will be quite lonesome and without escort while Herald Jeris attends a feast at my behest. Would you be so kind to attend? You would be our youngest guest at this part of the festivities, but there will be a Bard to sing.”

  Cara looked surprised. “Thank you, sir. I would enjoy that.”

  “Excellent!” the mayor replied. “Herald Letia, I regret I have much to attend to at the moment. Would you be so kind as to escort our guests?”

  She nodded. “Certainly, if the Council is done for the day.”

  “I do believe we are.”

  “Then,” Letia said, “let us be on our way.”

  • • •

  A warm, clear day meant the streets were crowded with errand-goers and shoppers. Cara gripped Jeris’ hand tightly in the crowd but seemed otherwise at ease. Letia directed them to a shop with trinkets, and Jeris lingered by the entrance. Jeris noted that, other than a few voices here and there that nagged or bickered, everyone sounded content. It took several shops and carts to find all the things Letia deemed necessary, including boots and barrettes and ribbons.

  While they wandered around the food vendors for lunch, Jeris realized the underlying mood of the chatter had shifted. A few notes of music drifted through, and Cara beelined for the source. None of the force of Cara’s singing accompanied the music being played, but a wary tension could be felt from the crowd. Cara stopped at the edge of the semicircle surrounding a man in Bardic Scarlet, playing a lovingly tended gittern.

  The Bard played beautifully, as one would expect from a member of the Bardic Circle. Jeris could just barely hear Cara hum along with the song. He gripped her shoulder in a slight warning, and she broke off with a guilty glance up at him. When the song finished, she stepped into the cleared area. “That was lovely,” she said.

  The Bard smiled, glanced at Jeris, and then over his shoulder. “Ah, Herald Letia! Are they with you?”

  The two Heralds engaging with the Bard palpably lessened the tension Jeris felt in the crowd, and those uninterested in the music milled around and past. “Indeed, Ralin. Jeris came from Haven for our feast, and Cara travels with him, to visit family nearer the shores. Jeris, Cara, please be known to Bard Ralin. Like me, he grew up in Highjorune.”

  “Quite. Although my home has been less warm these last few years,” Ralin agreed, almost affably, with just a touch of emphasis on “home.” “But perhaps the feast will restore the town’s good humor. And you, young Cara? Will you be at the feast? I noticed you singing the words of the ballad just now.”

  Cara nodded shyly. “I was trying to be quiet.”

  “You like to sing?” She nodded. “Do you play at all?”

  “A little. Momma plays the lute. We only had the one instrument.”

  “Well, perhaps if you are in town for long, I may show you a few tricks?” Ralin glanced at Jeris, who nodded slightly. Having her interact with a Bard could only be to her benefit, despite the townspeople’s discomfort. Perhaps he could advise on her unwitting use of her Gift.

  “I can direct you to them later,” Letia put in. “But we came through to eat. Would you like to join us, Ralin?”

  “It would be my pleasure.” He bent to put away his gittern, and Jeris leaned down, ostensibly to help pack Ralin’s folding chair. For Jeris’ ear, Ralin murmured that i
t was to his advantage to be seen with the Heralds.

  “I thought so also,” Jeris replied.

  Jeris and Cara selected their meal at the suggestions of Letia and Ralin. Jeris noted how much more at ease the crowd seemed after Ralin put away the instrument. Over a filling, tasty lunch, they agreed Letia would escort Ralin to their inn.

  “It’s not that I don’t know where the inn is,” Ralin commented. “It’s just that it seems prudent lately.”

  “The last bit of trouble was a few years ago,” Jeris said quietly. “Is it still such a concern?”

  “It had faded for the most part, so said the previous Bard. Stories surfaced from travelers about another one, and the town is tense again. Most would prefer to forget the recent wars altogether, and certainly a bed of treason.”

  The answer discomfited Jeris more than he liked. Why would the stories resurface now?

  • • •

  As discussed, the Heralds and Cara arrived at the feast together, the two Companions walking side by side, in step. Jeris smothered a smug smile at the awed expressions. No matter how many times a pair of preening Companions were seen, the reaction was the same.

  The trio dismounted and joined the amorphous blob, nominally the entrance line, leaving the Companions to themselves. A pair of city-liveried people checked names and directed parties to their seats. Despite the numbers, they were quickly seated near the mayor and council.

  “My compliments on the organization so far,” Jeris offered to the mayor.

  The mayor smiled and declaimed any credit. “I am fortunate in the quality of citizenry.”

  A liveried woman scurried up to whisper in the mayor’s ear, and he murmured back. Standing, he gave a short speech, welcoming the guests and introducing the Heralds. The servers started circulating as soon as the mayor seated himself.

  Ralin’s playing accompanied fine food, acceptable wine, and pleasant conversation for the first half of the feast. Jeris half wished that Soressa were present to observe Cara’s youthful enthusiasm and awe.

  About an hour in, Ralin took a break, relieved by a string quartet while he rested. He was seated on the other side of Cara, across from Letia. Cara peppered the Bard with questions about what the quartet were doing. Jeris gently reminded her to allow the man to eat as well. Looking chagrined, she obeyed.

  Jeris should have suspected the event was going too smoothly. Toward the end of the quartet’s third piece, the first sounds of discord started on the far side of the room. He recognized the man who stood up and gesticulated wildly as being the loudest member of the group Cara had pointed out their first night in Highjorune. The volume escalated, and he and Letia traded glances. “I’ll go see,” she said.

  “I will go with you,” the mayor put in.

  Before they got there, another man had risen, obviously angry. Jeris didn’t see who threw the first punch, but it shortly didn’t matter. It seemed the crowd Cara warned them about had arrived to this event itching for trouble. Half of the room was in full brawl in seconds. Children and startled women scattered toward the walls.

  “Go,” Jeris ordered Cara, pointing at the stairs. Getting her out of the melee area was his first responsibility. She went. He ran to help Letia and the Guard separate the brawlers. There were too many. This isn’t working, he thought as a stray blow grazed his chin. He reached out to Halath, to ask the Companions to intercede with mass if nothing else.

  A small, strong voice chimed through the brawl. It was Cara, standing midstair. He recognized the lyrics of a prayer song to Astera, high, clear, calming. Her hand clutched the railing.

  A hush spread out from the bottom of the stairs and across the room. Some stopped and turned to see her. Others just untensed and ceased fighting.

  In a few moments, they were all listening to her bell-like tones. She is amazing, he thought, so clear and in pitch, despite her age.

  A deeper voice joined hers, Ralin’s voice, and Jeris felt the pull of the two, as the Bard picked up the harmony on his gittern.

  :Get her out of there,: Halath ordered, breaking some of the hold of the music.

  He abruptly realized that Ralin was trying to distract the crowd from Cara’s display by overpowering it. He shook himself out of the lulling song and dodged through the crowd to Cara’s side. “You need to drop out of the song,” he urged at a whisper. “We need to get you out of here.”

  Her eyes widened and her chin dipped in bare acknowledgement. She softened her portion, dropping to silence at the end of a verse. Ralin’s voice strengthened further, a pulling, lulling sound which Jeris found he could only barely resist. He gathered Cara, carrying her down the stairs.

  Catching Ralin’s gaze as the Bard played and sang, Jeris gave him a sharp nod of acknowledgement. The Bard quirked an eyebrow at him without losing a note or beat. Letia moved to Ralin’s side, Jeris assumed for the purpose of taking over the attention of the now-lulled gathering, as soon as the song ended.

  He carried Cara out to Halath as fast as he could. She started shaking, even as he hoisted her on to his Companion’s saddle. He swung on behind her, and Halath cantered for the inn.

  Halfway back, she asked, “Am I in trouble? I just—I didn’t want anyone to get hurt. It’s what Momma’s always had me do during a brawl.”

  “No. You did your best in a not-good situation. But others may not see it that way,” Jeris told her. “That’s why you have to go to the Bardic Collegium. They can teach you when it’s . . . acceptable.”

  He offered a brief, silent prayer of his own, hoping he hadn’t left Letia and Ralin to an unruly crowd alone. :Drayl says they’re safe, for now,: Halath relayed the message from Letia’s Companion.

  Cara was still shaking when they arrived at the inn. Jeris left Halath to the stable hand for care with Halath’s agreement. Getting her upstairs and into bed was a priority. He could see the reaction headache already setting in.

  He got her settled in, prepped a headache draught, and insisted she drink some before she fell asleep completely. It was the best he could do for now.

  :That was more people than she’s likely ever seen in one place in her life. She must have poured everything she had into it,: he told Halath.

  :She kept it from getting bloody,: Halath replied.

  Hopefully the Guard and Letia would be able to sort out the incident and individuals without his assistance. For now, he needed to care for a little girl due to be in a lot of pain, even with a preemptive draught.

  • • •

  Jeris woke up, disoriented. A small, warm body cuddled against his, and he snapped alert before recognizing it was Cara. Color had returned to her face, unlike earlier, when she had been violently sick from the reaction headache. He’d coaxed more medicine into her, and cuddled her to sleep while she whimpered.

  He gently disentangled from the clutching girl, who murmured a protest which sounded like “daddy.” He gritted his teeth and took care of a few necessities. He tried to nudge her awake to gauge her recovery, but she just murmured something incoherent and didn’t rouse. He went downstairs to order strong tea and breakfast. He found himself thinking longingly of the Shin’a’in morning brew as morning fatigue set in.

  He was groggy enough that he didn’t register the loud voices arguing outside the tavern until he entered the main room, where the innkeeper stood in the doorway.

  “No, you may not disturb any guests under this roof,” the innkeeper said.

  “She’s the little brat from Soroll, the one who squirrels all my deals,” a man shouted. “Can’t have a little fear to make a bargain go well, not while she’s around. Can’t even have a healthy brawl. She’s a witch!”

  Other angry voices joined his at that accusation.

  Jeris didn’t remember going back up to the room to get her. He realized he was shaking her awake. “Cara, you have to get up, you have to get up now!” He wa
s about to pick her up to carry her, still asleep, down to Halath when she opened her eyes blearily.

  “Am I late for work?” she asked, still groggy.

  “No, yes. You have to get up now, there’s trouble.”

  She tried. She really did. She hadn’t recovered from the night before, and was clumsy with fatigue. Jeris swept her up and bounded down the back stairs to the stables. Halath whinnied as they burst in. “You’ve got to go. Halath will take you to Letia.”

  She was awake now. “Da—Jeris, sir, please!” She looked scared, but she didn’t resist being hoisted on Halath’s bare back.

  “Cara, some of the people recognized you last night. They’re angry, and they’re likely dangerous. You have to go to Letia, and tell her that. Halath can find her or her Companion, who can take you to her.”

  He put her hands up to Halath’s mane. “Hold on here if it helps you feel safer. Grip with your legs. He’ll keep you on his back as long as you try to stay there. Got it?” She nodded, fingers working into the fine hair. He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. “I’ll see you soon.” He flung the stable door open, and Halath left at a canter.

  Jeris ran around to the front of the tavern from the stable entrance. The angry crowd huddled at the front of the inn. He wasn’t in his best Whites, but these would have to do. “What seems to be the problem?” he asked loudly, in full Herald demeanor.

  The individuals closest to him turned, and upon realizing a Herald was at hand, looked a bit cowed. Some started edging off to the sides. The loudmouth at the door, however, didn’t turn around, still haranguing the innkeeper. Jeris caught the eye of one of the men slinking off. He hadn’t been with the group Cara originally recognized. “You there. What’s the fuss about?”

  “We, ah, were just concerned, sir, about a guest at the inn,” the man stammered.

  “And why might that be?” Jeris prompted.

  “She’s a witch!” another spat at him.

  “She caused trouble last night!” a third person said.