“It will get cleaned when you do it—not before,” was Talia’s adamant reply.
This elicited another tantrum, another hurled toy, and the promised six swats. And Talia left for afternoon classes, with Elspeth still crying in a corner.
After three days of this, Talia arrived at the nursery after dinner to find Elspeth struggling to untangle the heavy blankets. She had already gotten what furniture she could lift back in the upright position, and more-or-less back in place. Wordlessly Talia helped her with the rest, gathered the broken toys with her, and put them back on the shelves. That night Elspeth slept in her bed for the first time in a week, falling asleep with Talia holding her hand and singing to her.
* * *
The next battles were over the broken toys.
When the toys she’d smashed weren’t “magically” replaced as they’d always been in the past, Elspeth wanted to know why.
“You obviously didn’t care about them, so you won’t get any more,” Talia told her. “If you want toys to play with, you’ll have to fix the broken ones yourself.”
This occasioned a near-repeat of the previous week—though this time Elspeth had more sense than to throw anything at Talia. She cried herself sick again, though; and by the end of the fifth day Talia was heartily tired of this tactic. She figured it was about time to put a stop to it—so she picked the girl up, dumped her in the tub in her bathing-room, and doused her with cold water.
“You were making yourself sick,” she said as gently as she could while Elspeth sputtered. “Since you wouldn’t stop, I figured I’d better stop you.”
Elspeth took care never to cry herself sick again, though this time she held out for a full two weeks more. At the end of that time, Talia found her with a glue-brush in one hand and a broken wagon in the other. She had bits of paper sticking to her hair and face and arms and glue all over her, and was wearing a totally pathetic expression.
One slow, genuine tear crept down her cheek as she looked up at Talia. “I-I don’t know how to fix it,” she said quietly. “I tried—I really, really tried—but it just stays broken!”
Talia took the toy and the brush from her hands, and hugged and kissed her, oblivious to the glue. “Then I’ll help you. All you ever had to do was ask.”
* * *
It took the better part of a month to fix all the broken toys, and some were smashed beyond redemption. Talia did not offer to have these replaced; Elspeth had a tantrum or two over this, but compared to her earlier performances, they were half-hearted at worst. She was beginning to get the notion that Talia was a much better companion when Elspeth wasn’t making fur fly. Then Talia judged that it was about time for the girl’s schooling to start.
After the first day of screaming fits—only screaming, no attacks and no destruction, Elspeth had learned that much at least—Talia arranged to miss a week of her own morning classes. By the end of that week she felt as if she’d been breaking horses, but Elspeth had bowed beneath the yoke of learning, and was even (grudgingly) beginning to like it.
Gradually, Elspeth’s good days began to outnumber her bad ones; as they did so, more and more amenities came back into her life. Her servants returned (she treated them like glass—apparently afraid they’d vanish again if she so much as raised her voice); first the toys that had been totally destroyed were replaced, one by one, and without a word being said, then the ones that had been broken and inexpertly mended. All except for one doll—one that had been torn limb-from-limb, and which Talia had repaired. When Elspeth saw that the broken toys were being replaced, she took to keeping that one with her and sleeping with it at night. Talia smiled to herself, touched—and the doll remained.
Progress was being made.
* * *
Now there was a second problem to deal with. The child really had a horror of Companions; she had nightmares about them and couldn’t be persuaded to go anywhere near the Field.
Talia began trying to undo the effects of Hulda’s horror stories with Collegium gossip, which included as many tales about Companions as about the trainees. As soon as she thought it feasible, she started taking Elspeth on walks before bedtime, and those walks took them closer and closer to Companion’s Field. Finally, she took Elspeth right inside, having Rolan follow at a discreet distance. As days passed and the child became accustomed to his presence, Talia had him move in closer. Then came the triumphant day when she placed Elspeth on his back. The quick ride they shared cured the child of the last of her nightmares and hysterics and gave Talia a handy reward to offer for good behavior, for Elspeth had become as infatuated with Companions as she had been terrified before.
* * *
There were wonderful days after that—days when Elspeth was sweet and even-tempered, when being around her was a pleasure. And then there were the occasional miserable days, when she backslid into the Brat again.
On the bad days she had temper-tantrums, insulted the servants (though she never again laid a hand on one), called Talia names, and wrecked her nursery just for the sheer pleasure of destroying things. Talia would bear with this up to a point, then give her three warnings. If the third wasn’t heeded, the Royal Brat got a Royal spanking and was left to her own devices for a time until she sought Talia out herself to apologize.
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.
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!”
10
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 going 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 flex
ibility 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 like 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.
Heralds of Valdemar (A Valdemar Omnibus) Page 20
