Valdemar Books

by Lackey, Mercedes

  She decided to wait for him in the outermost room, and bundled up her old clothes and took them with her. When he arrived, he looked pleased to find her there. “Your room is ready in the guest lodge, and the hertasi are bringing you something to eat there, in the morning. That will be easier for you than trying to find our dining hall right off. You can leave your clothes here, if you’d like,” he added. “The hertasi will clean them and bring them back to you by morning.”

  “I could get to enjoy having hertasi doing everything,” she sighed, as she laid her clothing to one side.

  “It’s a good trade for them, and for us,” he agreed, as she followed him out onto the dimly lit trail. “They get safety, protection, and share our food and supplies, and we get their service. Out there they wouldn’t have a chance; cold slows them down, they’d make prime prey for the slave trade, and they’d wear their little lives away trying to grow enough food to stay alive. In here, they don’t have to worry about any of that. We even have a festival twice a year to thank them, where we take care of them and give them gifts.” He grinned. “They are very tolerant of our cooking, but twice a year is all they can stand.”

  “How are you getting food and supplies?” she asked curiously.

  “Trade and hunting,” he replied promptly. “There are some things we grow for ourselves, but staples we trade for; it makes more sense for us to grow very exotic and rare things than to try to cultivate acres of wheat. We’ve already set up a pact with Lord Breon, for instance; he’s quite pleased to be getting some of our goods in trade for flour and so forth. And here is the guest lodge.”

  They had just gone around a twist in the trail, and there, beneath the shade of an enormous tree that supported an ekele around its trunk, was a building similar to Darian’s little home, with rounded walls and a tiled roof.

  The main difference seemed to be that this place was not screened by a growth of vines, and that it looked to be bigger than Darian’s. Young vines at the base of the walls promised that soon this building would be camouflaged, too. “There are six rooms here for now, though you’re the only guest,” Darian told her. “We went ahead and put you in the first one.” He opened the door as he spoke, and ushered her into a kind of common room, lit by another oil lamp, with several doorways radiating from it. The nearest was open, with a light inside. “There will be more lights around here when Lord Breon gets our lamp oil to us. Nightwind or Firesong will send someone for you in the morning.”

  She yawned hugely, covering her mouth in embarrassment. “I was going to ask you to introduce me to the gryphon and your owl, but I don’t think I can stay awake that long.”

  “That’s what the morning is for,” Darian replied genially. “You go get some sleep; after your first dyheli ride, I’m sure you need it. Sleep as long as you need to.”

  He left her alone in the building, which now seemed much larger than it had a few moments ago. She entered the lit room, and found that her things had been unpacked, the clothing hung neatly on a bar mounted to the wall, or folded and set in a basket beneath the hanging clothes. The books were all stacked on a table next to the bed with a quill pen, ink, and paper; the only other thing on the table was the lamp. Her workbasket waited beside the table. It was all rather spare, compared to Da-rian’s home, but then this was only supposed to be guest quarters.

  The bed, however, looked soft and inviting, and she climbed right into it without undressing to find it was as comfortable as it looked. She thought about getting up and changing into a sleeping shift, but it was too comfortable; she didn’t want to do anything but blow out the lamp, and fall into dreamless sleep. So that was precisely what she did.

  When she awoke the next day, it was with a feeling of excitement and anticipation that was enhanced by an aroma so mouth-watering that her stomach growled loudly and insisted she must get up and get dressed to investigate the source. Light filtered in through the gauze curtains of the window over the head of her bed. She leaped out of bed, and changed out of the clothing she’d borrowed from Darian (which had been wonderfully comfortable to sleep in) and into one of her Healer-trainee uniforms. That was mostly what she had packed for this trip; she felt a little selfconscious about them, but they were the best clothing she had (bar her festival clothes), and she really was a Trainee now. Still brushing her hair and barefoot, she opened the door to the common room, and on a table was the source of the fragrant aromas; three rounds of bread that, by the scent, were stuffed with something. Beside the plate of bread rounds stood a cup and pitcher of cold, sweet tea.

  The first roll she bit into was still warm and stuffed with onion-and-sage spiced sausage, the second with rosemary-spiced vegetables, and the third with berry jam. She ate every crumb, and drank half the tea. When she had finished her meal, she noticed a familiar-looking pile of neatly folded fabric on a chair near the outer door; sure enough, it was yesterday’s clothing, clean again.

  Now what? she wondered, and finally brought out her workbasket, opening the outer door to let in some fresh air and signal that she was awake and ready to go to work. She was left in peace for a little, and had come to the end of a pattern when a faint scratching sound made her look up.

  One of the lizard-creatures stood in the doorway, and it nodded when it saw that she had noticed it. Now in the daylight, she saw it more clearly; with its huge, expressive eyes and intelligent look, it was unexpectedly appealing.

  In fact - it’s awfully cute, she thought, softening toward it.

  She put her work away and stood up; the lizard beckoned with an outstretched talon, and she followed it out into the Vale.

  She was glad that Nightwind had sent a guide; the place seemed to be a maze of little paths. Eventually the trees ahead thinned out and disappeared, and they emerged on the edge of a small lake with a cliff on the opposite side. The lizard vanished, and Keisha looked around in confusion.

  “Over here!” Nightwind called, waving from atop an expanse of rock. Beside her lounged the gryphon.

  Keisha walked toward them, slowly, taking it all in. The gryphon was perhaps the most stunning creature she had ever seen, barring Firesong. His head had a definite eagle look to it, though he had a pair of real, feather-tufted ears. His feathers were a gleaming golden brown, with gold markings, and he was huge. His bright gold eyes were fixed on her as she approached; they were like enormous rounds of tiger eye stone come to miraculous life.

  “Darian reminded me that you wanted to meet Kel,” Nightwind said as she neared. “So, this is Kelvren, our resident senior gryphon. Kel, this is Keisha Alder, the Healer of Errold’s Grove.”

  “I am pleasssed to make yourrrr acquaintancsse,” the gryphon said politely, bowing his head.

  “And I, yours,” Keisha replied, with a little genuflection of her own.

  “My title, my job, is trondi’irn, which means that I primarily take care of and Heal those who are not human,” Nightwind went on. “Especially the gryphons. Kel and I have been partners in that way since we were both accepted into the Silver Gryphons. In a small group like this one, I also Heal the humans - when we grow larger, we will have separate Healer and trondi‘irn, though they will both be expected to work together and assist each other.”

  Keisha nodded, but couldn’t think of a response. Nightwind patted the rock beside her, inviting Keisha to join her. Keisha climbed up and sat down, with the gryphon within touching distance of both of them. There were long, stiff feathers, much like guard hairs, around the nostrils and eyes. The great beak was polished or waxed, gleaming in the sun. Like a raptor, he had double eyelids, the inner one probably to protect his eyes during a fight or a kill. He had a spicy-sweet scent to him, a hint of ginger and cinnamon, which rather surprised her. He wore jeweled ear studs in each ear, and the shafts of each crest-feather had been decorated in jewel tones and gold leaf to match the ear studs.

  “You aren’t maintaining your shield,” Nightwind observed. “You are going to have to get into that habit; any time you think ab
out it, make sure it’s there! If you’re checking it a hundred times each day, that’s not too many. Use a mnemonic if you have to; associate the checking with something you see a lot of - fallen leaves, stones in the path.”

  Already feeling guilty, Keisha put her shield up, and Nightwind nodded.

  “That’s better. Now, I’m going to ask you some questions, because I suspect that you have already done some things with your Gift that you aren’t really aware of doing, and I want to find out what they are.” She began to question Keisha closely, asking her all sorts of odd things. Had she ever known what was wrong with a human or animal by just looking? Had she ever found herself knowing that she had given a human or animal enough medicine without measuring? Had she ever felt drained and tired after helping someone, even though she hadn’t done a great deal of physical labor?

  The list of questions went on and on, some seemed quite senseless, but others were surprising, because Keisha had felt, or done, those things and hadn’t known how or why.

  Finally, Nightwind was through, and she looked down at the notes she had taken with a waxboard and stylus. “You’re using your Gift with animals, rarely with children, never with adults,” she said. “You’re using it mostly to determine what exactly is wrong with them, and what dosages of medicines are sufficient. You are not using your Gift to Heal without medicine. That’s about normal, for someone who’s untrained, but who is developing a powerful Healing Gift.”

  She seemed to be waiting for a response. “It’s nice to know that I’m normal in something, at least,” Keisha replied dryly, and Nightwind laughed.

  “I’ve asked Kel to help me this morning, in part because I’m intimately familiar with him, and in part because the way he’s put together is going to give you some surprises.” She raised a brow, and Kel chuckled. “Remember how I touched your mind, and you saw through my eyes yesterday? Lower your shield, and we’ll do that again, but this time we’ll be looking at Kel using Healing Oversight.”

  So began the most intense morning that Keisha had ever spent in her life. She learned that there were many kinds of Oversight, many ways of using it, and how to use all the kinds that she had. Specifically, she began to learn how to use it to discover what was wrong with someone, whether it was injury or illness.

  “But I’m mostly treating either familiar animal diseases, or humans who can tell me what’s wrong,” she protested.

  Nightwind raised that eyebrow again. “Oh, indeed? What about someone who is unconscious? Someone with multiple injuries who isn’t aware of all of them? A child too young to talk? Do you always treat just the obvious symptoms without looking for anything further?”

  She dropped her eyes and had to admit that this was exactly what she had been doing.

  “That’s acceptable for a beginner, for a Trainee, but you can’t stay a beginner forever,” Nightwind said, softening her rebuke. “At some point you’re going to have to function as a full Healer, and the sooner that can happen, the better.”

  By the end of the morning, Keisha had a dull headache unlike anything she had ever experienced before, and Nightwind called a halt to the lessons. “For this afternoon, I think you should go through your texts and see if now you understand some of what confused you before,” her teacher told her. “The headache you have now is due to using that part of your mind and Gift that you haven’t exercised before - rather like riding muscles!” Keisha giggled a little at that, and Nightwind smiled. “So this afternoon should be devoted to your books, and when your headache eases, I’d like you to start examining people and creatures around you in this new way. Stop when it starts to hurt again, but the more exercise you give this talent, the stronger it will become, and the easier to use. And remember to keep your shield up otherwise!”

  Keisha felt dizzy with all the orders, but nodded anyway.

  “Now we’ll go get something to eat; I’ll show you the common dining hall.” Nightwind slid off the rock; Keisha followed her. “Kel, thank you, we’re done with you. Go fly your patrols.”

  “Happy to be of ssserrrvicsse,” the gryphon said genially, then took straight off from the rock in a thunder of wings that sent dirt and bits of debris flying in all directions.

  Nightwind also gave her the clue to following the paths - which turned out to be absurdly simple, once you knew it. Paths leading to the entrance had reddish markers which were often colored stones beside the path, paths leading to private residences had black markers, paths leading to the water had greenish ones, paths leading to the buildings housing the common areas - dining hall, kitchens, laundry, baths, and soaking pools - had gray markers. The paths themselves were made up of substances reflecting their “key” colors - bark, pebbles, sand, and so forth. “Just follow all the gray paths, and eventually you’ll come to what you’re looking for,” Nightwind told her. “The guest lodge is on a gray path, too.” Where paths met, there were marker stones in the appropriate colors, so sooner or later, no matter how lost she got, she’d eventually be able to straighten herself out.

  The dining hall turned out to be one of the few wooden buildings in the Vale, a long, low structure that was nothing like Keisha imagined it would be inside. One single room, with the ceiling supported by slender pillars; there was no real sign of what the room’s function should be, it could have been used for any purpose required. Instead of rows of tables and benches, there were a few tables with stools, a great many cushions, some couches, and some individual chairs. Part of one corner had been built up with three raised tiers, also covered with cushions. At the far end, food had been laid out for people to help themselves, which they did, then taking their choices to sit however they chose to eat.

  “There is almost always food here, even between meals, but hot food is only served at mealtime,” Nightwind told her, as she directed Keisha in getting a wooden platter and helping herself. “Things tend to happen in a Vale that upset schedules, so there are plenty of folk missing the regular meals who need feeding at any given time.”

  They found seats - Keisha felt much more comfortable eating at a table - and Nightwind began asking her questions about herself. Keisha discovered that she and the trondi’irn had more in common than she would have guessed. Both of them had a swarm of male relatives to put up with - in Nightwind’s case, it was a horde of cousins, rather than brothers - and both had younger sisters that they liked and missed enormously. “Though Nightbird may come here anyway - but not until her training is finished.”

  Both of them seemed to have the same slightly cynical outlook on life as well. Nightwind had a better sense of the absurd, though, and Keisha wished she had Nightwind’s ability to see humor in things. It looked to her as if Nightwind got more enjoyment from things by not taking them too seriously.

  “I have to get back to work,” Nightwind told her, when they’d finished eating and put their platters in the bin for dirty dishes. “Keep following this gray path, and you’ll eventually come to the guest lodge.” She frowned slightly. “At some point in the next couple of days, I’ll have to get Tyrsell to give you our language; the hertasi for the most part don’t understand Valdemaran. If you see Dar’ian and your headache is gone, tell him I said that.”

  “I will,” she promised, though she couldn’t imagine how she was to learn a language on top of everything else. She wandered the gray path, enjoying the sights, and eventually did come to the guest lodge. With a sigh, she went inside and obediently got out her texts.

  To her delight, a large part of the things she had not understood did come clear, although the texts often used slightly different terms for things than Nightwind did. Oversight, for instance, was called Mage-Sight or Healing-Sight. Now that she knew some of the basics, though, she was amazed at how much the texts actually told her, occasionally explaining things better than Nightwind had.

  She became so absorbed in her studies that she barely noted the passage of time until she found she was straining to read, looked up, and realized that it was growing dark. More t
han that, her foot was asleep, and she was starving. She put the book down, and decided to get some dinner on her own.

  She walked to the dining hall through a dusk lit softly by lanterns and scented with the perfumes of night-blooming flowers. A different sort of fragrance coming from the dining hall made her move a bit faster, though, and she shyly took her place amid a tangle of strange Hawkbrothers to get her platter and fill it. With a little searching, she found a quiet corner out of everyone’s way, and sat there, watching and listening to the strange music of their unfamiliar tongue.

  She was just about to leave when she (almost literally) ran into Darian. He caught her by the elbow as she passed him, with a contagious grin for her when she realized who it was. “Working hard?” he asked, with a wink.

  She made a face. “Hard enough to get a headache,” she replied, sighing. “I wish I’d known this was going to be so difficult.”

  “Well, that’s good, it means you’re stretching new talents,” he told her, without a hint of pity. “Almost everything worth doing is hard, at least at first. Do you still want to meet Kuari?”

  “Absolutely!” She remembered then what her teacher had told her. “Oh, and Nightwind said to let you know if I saw you that she wanted - someone - to give me the Hawkbrother tongue.”

  “That would be Tyrsell,” Darian identified, nodding, so that a wisp of hair dropped into his eyes and he brushed it back with an absentminded wave of his hand. “Tyrsell is the king-stag of the dyheli herd; he’s the one I was riding yesterday.”

  A dyheli teaching her a language? “That doesn’t seem right. They don’t talk, I mean, not aloud,” she responded, with a frown. “How can he do that?”

  “Oh, you’ll understand soon enough - still have the headache?” he asked, and she shook her head. “Good; let me bolt something down, and I’ll take you to the dyheli meadow. The sooner you have Tayledras, the better. The hertasi mostly don’t understand Valdemaran.”