The Dean said, “A Shin’a’in invasion? That wasn’t quite the message, but I gather this matter is important?”
“Not quite,” Kerowyn said, hiding a smile. “However, we do have a Shin’a’in girl, far out of her area, seeking her pledged, who is one of your students.” She indicated the stables.
“I see,” the Dean said, and he seemed to grasp the import. He followed her gesture, to where the girl was taking proper care of the horses, including a quick brushing, with an economy born of lifelong experience.
When Nerea finished watering them at the trough and ensured they had a panful of oats and plenty of hay each, she turned and walked back. She seemed fully aware of the Dean and Shaman, but she waited for Kerowyn to make the introductions. She greeted the Dean with a bow, and spoke formally to the Shaman.
“Nerea, there are things I must attend to, but the Dean and Shaman will aid you.”
“Thank you for the introduction, Cousin.”
“You are welcome.”
With that, Kerowyn turned and left, intending to find out just who in Bolton let Nerea off her leash with fifteen horses and who there might be missing her.
Lo’isha shena Pretara’sedrin, Shaman and Shin’a’in Envoy, found himself left with the problem. With Kerowyn gone, he was both translator for the Dean, speaker for his own, and the only possible authority figure the girl might acknowledge.
Neutrally, he said, “Nerea, you are far from our lands.”
“As are you, Elder. We both have our reasons,” she replied, with not quite a smile.
“Yes. You are here for your pledged, I’m told.”
“I am. If he is to be here, I am to be with him.”
He recognized her expression now—determination, with a slight challenge.
Lo’isha translated for Teren. Teren raised his eyebrows.
“Well, first I suppose I need you to help explain about the training.”
Lo’isha nodded and translated for Teren.
Dean Teren twisted his mouth for a moment, apparently in thought, then spoke. “Nerea,” he said, “Mind-magic is much more than empathy for animals. I know you can work with these creatures—” he gestured toward the stables “—better than most people, and it’s a natural talent for you. However, Keth’ is able to do the same to people and objects, whether they want it or not, whether he wants it or not. He and his traveling companions were attacked not far from the city on their way here. His reaction caused unconsciousness for the brigands, and two never recovered properly, being mind-lame since then.” He waited while Lo’isha caught up.
“Well, good,” she said. “I approve of retribution to such grek’ka’shen.”
Teren winced slightly at that.
“Perhaps, but it wasn’t an intentional response. He panicked, they collapsed. This could happen to innocent people, too. Nerea, I understand pledging is something that has been planned for some time. You must understand that his Mind-magic changes things. He needs to learn to control it, for his own safety, and yours, and that of others.” Lo’isha translated.
She stared right back at Teren, then spoke to Lo’isha. “I understand that. You must understand that our pledge doesn’t change due to side matters. He is alive, he is very much himself, and he is very much mine. I remain with him and he with me. Explain that to him, please.” She gave a single, firm nod. With a raised eyebrow at her firmness, Lo’isha turned and translated for Teren.
Teren said, “That is not possible.” The flat tone in his voice almost did not need translation.
“For you, perhaps not. I assure you it is quite possible for me.” She sounded almost haughty, certainly confident and stubborn, and yet calm. She was like a mountain in storm, while the trees swayed in distress.
The Dean looked at Lo’isha in controlled exasperation. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand. She understood fully and was unswayed.
The Shaman placed a calming hand on Teren’s wrist and tried a different tack.
“It is obvious this is true. Things have not changed for you, and you are on your course. However, have they remained the same for him?” Lo’isha spoke with the authority of a Shaman and brought up exactly what Nerea did not want to hear.
She flushed slightly.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I haven’t seen him since he left our lands. That is why I am here now. This must be resolved between us.” She almost stamped her foot in emphasis.
“I don’t disagree. This training, though, is for safety. Consider a fire on the Plains. There’s a reason children are taught to tend a fire carefully. They must know how to judge fuel, to avoid a flare of flames and disaster.”
Her expression was most put upon.
“I don’t seek to hinder that. Only to be near him.”
Inwardly Lo’isha sighed; the girl wasn’t being unreasonable, just stubborn, and adamant, and unswerving in her intent. The Shaman said, “Well, then please let me start by offering a place to stay and clean up from the journey, in the embassy in the Hawkbrother ekele.”
She widened her eyes slightly.
“Thank you,” she said. “I will be comfortable with our cousins.”
“If you wait, I will show you the way. I and the Dean need to discuss how we can arrange this meeting for you.”
With a frown and flick of her eyes, she said, “You have only to tell me where he is, but clearly that is too simple for this city, with its costumes and rules and gates and castes.” She paused briefly, as if only then aware of her bad manners. “Forgive me. Thank you for your hospitality. I will leave you to your discussion, and I will await your direction, for now.”
For now, Lo’isha thought. This wasn’t over by far.
He watched her move a discreet distance away, enough to be in another tent, were there any tents here. She paid attention to some detail of the bricks and moss, and, while not relaxed, she was not intruding.
He turned to the Dean.
Teren asked, “How do we get her out of here?” in a whisper. He glanced over suspiciously at her.
“I don’t know that we can. It would be up to her and her pledged.”
“The distance should have made this impossible, especially for one so young.”
“For our people, they are man and woman grown. You mustn’t mistake her for a child.”
“I’m not mistaking her for a problem.” The Dean clutched his hands together.
“No, but you are mistaking her for your problem. I will show her to the ekele. Then we can talk.”
“Very well, and thank you. Then we can have Keth’ deal with the issue.”
Teren seemed quite exasperated, and Lo’isha surmised that by “issue” he meant “sending her home.”
He didn’t think it would be that easy.
“I will meet with you shortly,” he said. Then he turned, and to Nerea said, “Come then, and I will show you to the ekele.”
Teren was in his office when Lo’isha returned. He gratefully put aside his writing and said, “Please, have a seat.” Lo’isha sat in the one available chair in the cluttered and paper–filled office.
“Always one chair not used for storage, I see,” the Shaman offered with a chuckle.
Teren shrugged and nodded and chuckled back. “It’s my way. If anyone were to straighten my clutter, I’d never find anything again. But as to the other . . . Thank you for your aid in this matter. This is most awkward. Students are unaccompanied, and if they are not single when they commence training, they are by the time they graduate. This is how it is done, and most arrive knowing it. If he’s to be a Herald . . .”
“You are assuming he will complete the training and follow your chosen path. There are at least two people assuming his fate for him. It seems to me that is a question for him to answer.”
Teren looked startled at that. “How could he refuse to be a Herald?”
“Quite easily. Are you asking, ‘Will he be the first to refuse?’ ”
Teren had no response. He never considered th
at possibility. There were traditions and cultural assumptions at the Collegium. Those weren’t necessarily the traditions and assumptions of the boy, and they most definitely weren’t those of the girl.
By choosing him, Yssanda had thrown things into a fine tempest. Perhaps it was an amusement for her. Or, it might be a necessity. What would have possessed a Companion to go all the way to the Dhorisha Plains to choose a Shin’a’in child? What would Valdemar need him for, or was it that the Shin’a’in would need him more?
Regardless of the cause, this situation needed resolution.
“I suppose we should arrange for them to meet,” he said, leaning back and stroking his chin. “After that, we’ll see.”
“Are you going to warn the young man?”
“I’m not sure we should. He’ll want to meet at once, and it will distract him. I’ll arrange some time, and we’ll let them meet. He can explain to her better than we.”
“I’m not sure it will be that simple.”
“Oh, of course he’ll have second thoughts and some homesickness. However, he’s a fine pupil. He’s learned a lot of fundamentals quickly, and he’s even accepted the separation. It was long in his mind. They’ve both grown and changed, and this will make it clear.”
The next morning, Lo’isha met Nerea at the ekele entrance. She was staring wide-eyed at the lush and fragrant growth. It was very different from the Plains. and being surrounded by the local terrain only emphasized the differences. Hearing his footfalls on the graveled path, Nerea turned and greeted the Shaman.
“Bright the day, Elder,” she said cheerfully.
“Did you sleep well?”
“I did, thank you.”
“How are the younger-sibs?”
“They are comfortable and getting refreshed. How much is stabling? I have little money, but I can offer work.”
“Nothing is required for now. You are a guest at our invitation.”
“That’s gracious of you.”
Quite a few youths would have assumed hospitality without even thinking. They expected adults to manage things for them. The locals had trouble grasping that, by Shin’a’in tradition, she was a woman grown. Of course she asked about debts.
“Actually, it’s gracious of the Dean and of the Queen,” he smiled. “But it’s something they plan for, so you need not mention it.”
“I will do so, at least once, but I understand,” she said.
He sighed, slightly. Yes, the ways here were strange, but as a guest, one should learn and abide by the local rules. She was a headstrong and inexperienced youth, well-intentioned but fiery.
“If you are ready, then please come with me.”
They walked out into a damp spring morning. It had rained during the night. It might be warm and muggy later, but was clear and fresh now.
He led her through Companion’s Field, along Palace garden paths, and to the Collegium main hall. At a side entrance, Teren awaited, and with him Keth’re’son shena Tale’sedrin.
Nerea was not so formal with Keth’. She charged forward and threw her arms around him in a tackling hug, feet off the ground and looking melted in place. Lo’isha stood back and let them resolve that. Their embrace was one of innocent companionship, not of long-parted lovers, but it still held that same intensity.
Keth’s mind whirled. How did Nerea get here? But she was so warm, and her grip so tight. He could smell her hair and the scent of her leathers. He closed his eyes and hugged her closely.
When he finally bent to put her down and her feet touched the ground, she stepped back and grinned hugely at him, her dark eyes glowing.
She said, “It is so good to see you, my pledged. I have traveled far to keep our bond.” Her voice, that language, was music to him, after months of the strange tongue and stiffer rules it used. Shin’a’in flowed from the lips as was proper, Valdemaran seemed to march backward instead.
He remembered there were others here, and they were being watched. He kept hold of one of her hands and said, “I am so thrilled to have you here. But I must introduce you to someone.”
He tugged and she followed him, smiling, into Companion’s Field and away from prying eyes.
“Who did you need me to meet?” Nerea asked.
They had been walking away from the Palace and the Collegium for some minutes now, while he enjoyed her company. She’d come so far. He had so many questions and so much to say, but first he had to introduce her to his Companion.
There she came, from a shady copse of trees, toward them. He pointed as she came close, then laid a hand on her shoulder.
He said, “This is Yssanda. She is, in part, the reason why I came here.”
“She’s beautiful. Good lines, broader head. How did they get the silver hooves, and does she suffer any eyesight problems with those blue eyes? Do the hooves breed true?”
:I can see as well as you do, dear, and sometimes clearer. And don’t you even think about breeding me—I can pick my own mates, thank you very much!: Yssandra let him hear her comment, even though she spoke to Nerea.
Well, that certainly moved things along.
Nerea stood very still. The sensation of having someone speaking inside one’s mind was disconcerting to say the least, he recalled. Having that sensation come from a horse made it even more so. While the Shin’a’in consider horses to be their younger-sibs, they didn’t expect them to talk back.
“Nerea, she’s not a horse,” Keth’ said gently. “She’s a Companion, a person in her own right. She’s been my friend, teacher, and ally while I’ve been in this foreign place. Even after I’m done here, she’s going to have to be a part of any of our plans.”
“What are those plans going to be? You’ve already been gone so long, am I still a part of any plan?”
Keth’s heart went out to her. She seemed to shrink inside herself a little, both wanting to hear the answer and not wanting to hear. Nerea deserved his honesty, but he wasn’t sure himself.
“We need to talk about that. I think that’s why you’re here.”
Dean Teren sat in his office, yet again considering the problem that Nerea and Keth’ presented him. Neither one of the youngsters was taking into account what the Collegium might have to say in the matter—they just assumed that they could order the world according to what they wanted. After all, they were young and together—who could stand against them . . .
That was exactly the reason Herald Trainees were expected to be unaccompanied.
It occurred to the Dean that while it was certainly possible to stand against them, it might be very problematic to do so—sufficiently so to give the Bards song fodder for a long time.
Keth’ wasn’t precisely a disappointment. He learned very well. However, he hadn’t internalized the right attitude and didn’t see a problem with Nerea remaining here. She stayed at the ekele and had worked out a labor exchange for lodging. She was quite competent.
Teren realized he’d underestimated them. A Valdemaran youth of that age could be swayed through reason, emotion, or social suggestion. Not only were these two from another culture, they’d grown up much faster. They were a strange mix of adult minds in juvenile spirits and bodies. He needed to talk to the envoy again.
Keth’ walked with Lo’isha, near Companion’s Field, with his own concerns. There were few people he could even begin to discuss this with.
“It’s aggravating,” Keth’ said. “All this past year, I’ve been told I must continue alone. I had accepted that—well, somewhat—but now she shows up here. Here. Halfway across the continent.”
The Shaman paused to study a flower. Keth’ was not interested in flowers.
“It should be flattering,” the Elder said.
“It is,” Keth’ agreed, quickly. “It’s also very inconvenient.”
“Not just for you.”
“I understand. But I want her to stay. I want to go home with her. So does she. I also do want to continue my studies. There’s so much to learn, and I’m improving.” He paused,
unsure what to add.
“You are improving,” the Shaman assured him. “You also can’t control this situation. Unlike Mind-magic, this involves people’s intent. Even if you had that power, it would be unwise and unfair to use it.”
He nodded. That such might be possible was disturbing.
As to the matter at hand, he asked, “So who does control it? And what should I do?”
“We each control our own part, or we think we do. Eventually, each of us will find a path that fits the events.”
“That makes sense,” he agreed, and he did feel better. “I just wish it would hurry up.” He realized he was pacing back and forth as the Shaman strolled.
The Shaman said, “It is better that it take time. As to other things, I understand Nerea is taking language lessons?” He smiled with a twinkle.
“Yes, Clan k’Leshya also have given her lodging and some small allowance in exchange for stable work. I let her have a little of my own funds,” he admitted, blushing. “I do care for her.” She was so stubborn. Or not stubborn, but simply unswayable.
“There is no reason you shouldn’t,” the Shaman said.
“But they want me to become a Herald, and Heralds—”
“You are not yet a Herald, and you remain Keth’-re’son shena Tale’sedrin. Those are two more things that must be reconciled.”
“This doesn’t sound possible,” he said. He’d wanted reassurance. This was making him feel more depressed. He didn’t feel Shin’a’in, nor Valdemaran, nor even himself now.
“It is all possible, and we need not know how at this point. It will all resolve in time.”
“Thank you, Elder, I suppose.” He tried to smile. “Can you give me something more immediate and practical?”
“You are free for the day. Why not take your pledged into Haven? I’m sure she’d like to see more than stables.”
Under the Vale and Other Tales of Valdemar Page 17
