"It"s true, too. I"m resigned to letting things rest as they are, knowing that my example shows misfits that there is an escape."
He didn"t seem inclined to further conversation, so she turned her attention back to those unsettling rumors.
Poisonous, that"s what they were. Ugly, and poisonous.
And true? said a niggling little doubt.
She wanted to deny any truth to it at all*vehemently. But could she? In all conscience, could she?
The business about Elspeth*no, she could not believe she"d been fostering dependence in the child, not even unconsciously. Once Elspeth had begun acting like a human being again, she"d been pushing her toward independence, driving her to make her own decisions and take responsibility for the results.
But the rest*oh, insidious. For a Mindspeaker, it was obvious when he was projecting; it sounded to the recipient a great deal like the Mindspeaker"s normal voice, but as if the words were coming from deep inside his own ear. But when she projected*would anyone be able to tell she was doing so?
She could tell; sending emotion cost her effort and energy.
But if she were excited or agitated*would she notice the energy expense?
Did she even need to be doing it while she was awake? What about when she was asleep? How could she possibly be sure what her irrational sleeping mind was doing?
And what about simply reading people"s emotional states? Was she transgressing by doing so, and acting on the knowledge?
How could she avoid doing it? It was like seeing color; it was just there unless someone was deliberately shielding.
Doubt followed doubt in an insidious circle, each feeding on the one preceding it, until Kris broke the silence.
"This is our first stop*this close to the capital they won"t be hungry for news, and it"s very unlikely they"d need us to work in any official capacity. Still, it"s only good manners to repay them in some way for their hospitality. Small villages don"t see trained Bards oftener than once a month, so they"re very receptive to even amateur music. Would you be willing to sing if I played?"
"Of course," she replied, grateful for the interruption. "It"s only fair that I share the work. Did you notice that I brought My Lady?"
"No!" he exclaimed with delight. "You"ll let me play her? I have a smaller traveling harp with me, but it hasn"t half the range or the tone of My Lady."
"I let you have her the other night, didn"t I? You"ll have to retune her. I detuned the strings so they wouldn"t snap if the weather changed suddenly." She smiled shyly. "I have good instrument etiquette. Jadus taught me quite well, I a.s.sure you."
"He couldn"t do otherwise when it came to music. He"s the one who taught me in the first place."
"Really? I wonder why he didn"t leave her to you?"
"That"s easy enough to answer. I didn"t take the time to keep him company the way you did," Kris replied with a slightly shamed expression. "He may have given me a little of his skill, but he gave his harp where he"d given his heart*to a lonely little girl, because she"d given him her own."
The village came into view before a surprised Talia had time to form a reply. Children swarmed upon them, chattering and calling questions that both Heralds fielded with chuckles and smiles. Older children ran ahead to alert their elders that there were two Heralds taking the road north, who were clearly planning on spending the night.
Long before they reached the inn at the center of the village square, a crowd had gathered to meet them. The village itself was a large one, with cobblestoned streets and white-plastered buildings of two and even three stories high. Rather than thatched, the roofs were tiled*something Talia had read was more common the farther north one went. With all the shutters thrown open, soft yellow light gleamed through the windows of the houses, as the sun set and candles and lamps were lit.
As Kris had indicated, this village was close enough to the capital that Heralds stopped with fair regularity. Heralds traveling to their Sectors were housed in inns rather than the Waystations, unless they were caught without other shelter, and inns got back a percentage of their taxes for every Herald they entertained. It was possible for an inn on a busy road to be rebated all of its tax if enough Heralds stayed there*and that made Heralds welcomed and sought-after guests.
Under all those strange eyes, Talia regained an outward control, at least; putting on her "public" face and pushing her self-doubts into the back of her mind. It would not do for these people to see her disturbed.
The Innmaster himself welcomed them at his front step and escorted them to the stables. Stablehands tended to the chirras, but the Heralds themselves cared for their Companions. Kris chuckled once or twice*apparently at something that Tantris "said" to him*and Talia felt a tiny twinge of jealousy at their ability to Mindspeak one another.
Once back inside, the Innmaster escorted them personally to their quarters, and gave Talia and Kris small rooms on the second floor*rooms scrupulously, almost painfully clean. Their rooms adjoined one another and each boasted a window, a small table, and a narrow bed that looked surprisingly comfortable.
They were courteously given the use of the bathhouse without anyone pestering them. But once they joined the rest of the guests in the common room for supper, the questions began. The dark-paneled common room overflowed to near-bursting with villagers; tallow-dips in sconces on the walls cast a dim but clear light, so it was easy to see and be seen. The air was seasoned with a pleasant aroma of bread and roasting meat and wood smoke. Though the furnishings were only rough wooden tables and benches, they, and the floor, were sanded smooth and scrubbed clean. The Heralds took their places at a table near the fire, and the rest of the guests gathered around them.
Kris took it upon himself to try and answer them, but when it seemed as if he"d never get more than a mouthful of dinner before it got cold, Talia took her own turn. As Kris had told her, the common people were very well informed this close to the capital: what they wanted most was detail. Much of what they wanted to know centered on the new Heir, a subject Talia knew very well indeed. She satisfied them enough that eventually she and Kris were able to finish their dinners in peace.
Talia had brought My Lady down with her; while Kris tuned her, she took the time to answer questions from a different source*the children. They seemed to sense that this Herald would not brush them off, ignore them, or give them light answers. They had a thousand questions concerning Heralds and what it took to be one.
Some of the questions gave her pause for thought.
"Why don"t Heralds ever stay in one place?" one young boy asked. "We always have the same priest*why don"t we keep the same Herald?"
"For one thing, there just aren"t enough of us to send one to each village, or even one to each group of villages," Talia told him. "For another*tell me, what will happen when your priest grows old and retires, or perhaps dies?"
"They"ll send us a new one, of course."
"And he"ll be a stranger to all of you. Do you think he"ll fit in and be accepted right away?"
"No." The lad grinned impudently. "A lot of the grannies won"t really trust him until he"s been here for years*if then."
"But a Herald has to have your trust right away, don"t you see? If you come to trust the person more than the office, the way you do with your priest, there would be trouble for every new Herald in a Sector."
The boy looked thoughtful at this. "So you move all the time, to make sure it"s the job that stays important, not the person doing it. I bet if you stayed in one place too long, you"d get too bound up with the people to judge right, too."
A little startled by this observation, so very accurate, she sent a fleeting thought toward the stable.
Since she wasn"t in trance, Rolan couldn"t give her more than a vague feeling*but the impression was that he had already noted this boy, and it was very probable that the child was going to receive a hooved visitor in the next year or two.
Armed with this knowledge, she answered the rest of this boy"s questions with special care and watched him afterward. She noted that he seemed to be the mentor and protector of some of the little children, urging them forward to talk to her when he knew that they were too shy to go alone. He wasn"t above his share of pranking about, she noticed with relief, but his tricks were never those that could hurt anyone.
Kris soon had the harp in tune; Talia let him take center stage alone for a while, knowing how much the approving attention would please him. The guests and villagers were loud in their appreciation, and only when Kris was glowing from their applause did Talia add her voice to the harpsong.
The host of the inn eventually decreed they"d tired the Heralds out long enough, and mock-ordered both of them to their beds. Talia was just as pleased; she was feeling the effects of a long day in the saddle, and she thought of her pillow and warm bed with longing.
When they mounted the next morning, just as the sun arose, Talia winced a little as she climbed into her saddle.
"Sore?" Kris asked with a slight smile.
She groaned faintly. "Before this trip is over I"ll probably be in agony. I didn"t realize I was this badly out of riding trim. I may never be able to get my legs closed again."
"That would make some people happy," he teased, and ducked as she threw an apple core left from her breakfast at him.
"Just for that, maybe I won"t give you this." He held up a pouch that jingled faintly.
"Why? What is it?" she asked, curiosity aroused.
"When I picked up our expense money, I thought perhaps you might have forgotten your stipend," he replied, tossing the pouch over to her. "*You had, so I drew it for you. You"re a full Herald now, remember? You earn a stipend."
"Bright Havens!" Her hand flew to her head in embarra.s.sment. "I did forget."
"Don"t feel badly. After five years of no pocket money, most of us forget. I did. But it comes in very handy, especially when you happen to be at a fair, and see something you just know So-and-so would love. Or, for that matter, that you can"t live without."
"It"s a good thing I"ve got you for a counselor," she replied ruefully. "I"d probably have left my own head back at the Collegium."
Kris just chuckled as he led the way out the gates of the inn onto the road.
As they traveled northward, the road changed from the strange, gray material to packed gravel, to clay, to finally a simple raised and cleared strip between the trees, all the gra.s.s worn down by travelers and their mounts and carts.
As the roadway changed, so did the landscape to either side. Farms covered more area*and there were greater stretches of uncultivated land between them, from wide meadows to nearly virgin forest.
The weather changed, growing slowly, but steadily, worse. It rained almost every day, in a steady, penetrating shower. And soon the rains lasted all day, never becoming less than a drippy drizzle, so that the chill water soaked through even their oiled-wool cloaks. The chirras whined in protest at being made to travel at all, and they rode enveloped in miasmas of soggy leaves and wet wool. By the time they reached their chosen resting place each night, they were aching with cold, sodden clear through, and longing for hot wine, hot food, and hotter baths.
Talia"s mood was at one with the weather. Her mind kept running in circles on the same subject. Was she misusing her Gift? How could she tell? What were the ethics of Empathic sensing, anyway?
From time to time, long skeins of waterbirds called from overhead, flying south, high and fast, their cries coming down on the wind like the calls of lonely spirits. The lost calls echoed in Talia"s mind long after they"d pa.s.sed; sad callings for the answers to questions that could not be answered.
And when, at dismal day"s end, they saw the lights of the next village and heard the cheerful noise of the inn, those were welcome sights and sounds indeed.
And yet for Talia, the sight of the inn became a prospect she almost dreaded. She found herself scanning the faces of those around her, seeking almost obsessively for some sign that she was influencing their moods.
The only interruption to her rounds of intense self-scrutiny came when Kris drilled her in the intricacies of the Arrow Code, or coaxed her into some kind of conversation while they rode.
The farther north they came, the farther apart the villages were. Finally there was little choice as to which village they would rest in overnight; often there would be only one within striking distance. The cultivated areas began to be fewer, the woods and forests thicker and showing less evidence of the hand of man. At long last the weather cleared a bit; the rain stopped, although most days were overcast. At the beginning of the trip, the workers they saw in the fields had hailed them cheerfully, then gotten on with what they were doing. Now almost invariably the farmfolk called them to the roadside and offered them a drink of sweet cider or cold spring water in exchange for a bit of news. This evidence alone made it plain that they were on the very edge of the Kingdom, for at this time of year, there wasn"t much time left to get the last of the crops in; and it took a great deal to pull a farmer"s attention away from that goal, even for the little time it took to drink a gla.s.s and pa.s.s a trifle of information.
Talia was just as glad that they met with so few people. Her circling self-doubts were beginning to have an effect on her; her shields were wearing thin and she could feel the press of Kris" emotional state just beyond them*though he was trained to mind-block without thinking about it. With ordinary folk it was far worse.
It didn"t help her doubts at all that to sense that he was still uneasy about her.
Kris had done his best to shove his uncle"s words into the back of his mind, but he wasn"t overly successful. He wanted to bring up the subject with Talia again, but hadn"t dared. She seemed edgy and preoccupied in general*and nervous whenever they were around large groups of people, although he doubted that anyone but another Herald would have noticed the nerves behind her "public" face. So he tried to keep the conversation going on other topics.
But behind it all were the unanswered questions. Was she misusing her Gift? Was she doing so without realizing it?
And*much more sobering*was she using it to manipulate him?
It was distressing, because he was coming to like her*like her a great deal, more so even than the usual hail-fellow good comradeship that was the norm among Heralds. They were very much alike in many ways. It was horrible to have to suspect a friend of something so insidious.
Because she was becoming that*a friend of the same order as Dirk.
"You know ..." he said one day, out of the blue, "you"re like the sister I never had."
"You"re like the brother I wish I had ..." she replied without seeming to think about it. "That I might have had if Andrean hadn"t died in that raid. He was the only one of my sibs who was kind to me, excepting Vrisa. If I"d had you instead of Justus and Keltev, things might have been easier."
"They also might have turned out a lot differently. Would you have been willing to run away if life had been more pleasant?"
"A good point," she conceded. "Probably not. And then where would I be?"
He grinned, while Tantris shook his head mirth-fully and made his bridle bells ring. "If what you"ve told me is true, six years married, and the mother of as many children."
She grimaced, and shifted in the saddle with a creak of leather. "Thank you, no. Hectic as it is, I like the life I"m leading now. Speaking of which, don"t we cross into our new Sector today?"
He pulled the map they"d been given out of a pocket on the front of his saddle, consulted it, and peered around under the lowering sky, looking for landmarks. Finally he spotted one, a cl.u.s.ter of three flat-topped hills off to the west of the road. "We"ll cross the border before nightfall, and we"ll be staying tonight at our first Waystation."
"Because*" she put on a somber mien. " **Heralds do not stay at inns in the Sector they serve, unless weather prevents them from reaching a Station; this insures that they keep a proper distance and maintain impartiality with the people of their Sector." I remember."
"You certainly do!" he laughed, cheered by her apparent return to good humor. "That"s old Werda to the life!"
"And that"s also the reason we either buy the supplies we run out of outright, or wait until we reach a Resupply Station; a.s.suming they"re not in the Waystation. Right?"
"High marks; completely correct." He looked about him at the falling leaves, at trees whose branches were almost bare. "I"m sorry that this isn"t going to be an easy beginning for you. This is a bad time of year to start riding this Sector. There"s going to be snow in the next couple of weeks. Trainees usually aren"t faced with conditions this hard at the beginning of their internships."
"I"m Borderbred, remember? This is a lot more like the kind of life I was bred to than my life at the Collegium. I"ll manage."
"You know," he said soberly, "I know you"ll do your best. I know you"ll try your hardest. That"s all anyone can ask. I trust you. Talia."
At least, he thought to himself, I think I do.
Five.
The boughs of the nearly-leafless trees arched above them, skeletal hands reaching for the gray sky. The road continued before them, a leaf-carpeted tunnel through the bleak, gray-brown forest. The sodden leaves had been flattened by so many rains that the Companions didn"t even kick them up; the dense mat only served to m.u.f.fle the sounds of their hooves. There were no birds, only the occasional sound of a branch cracking somewhere off in the shadows of the underbrush.
Talia and Kris rode well past sunset and on into the dark to reach the Waystation Kris intended to use as their first stop in their new Sector. With the last rays of the sun went the last hint of warmth; as the last dim, red light filtered through the branches, a cold wind began to sigh among them. Kris took the lead, but it was Tantris, with the superior night-sight of Companions, who was really picking out their way, through cold and dark that was enough to drive just about any other consideration from human minds. Talia was strongiy considering unpacking her heavy cloak and was definitely glad that all Waystations, however small or primitive, had fireplaces. The wind had a sharp bite to it, and carried a hint of snow along with the cold.
This Station, as it loomed up out of the shadows in front of them, did not appear to be all that small. Hopefully, it was not primitive either.
One thing was always the first order of business, no matter how late the hour, nor how foul the weather, when Heralds opened a Waystation. Talia dismounted, felt along Rolan"s saddle, and took out her firestarter and tinderbox. After no little fumbling and cursing, she managed to get a tiny flame going in the tinder. Protecting it carefully from the wind, she removed a small, fibrous bundle from one of the packs; it had a waxed wick sticking out of it, which she lit at the tiny flame. While Kris pulled off the packs and saddlebags, she tossed it inside and shut the door. He left the packs at her feet, and took Companions and chirras around to the side of the building. While she waited, she shivered in the cold wind, and started a little when an owl cried in the distance. The little, homely sounds Kris was making in the lean-to stable were very welcome against all that dark, with the wind sighing in the boughs of the trees.
She nursed the tiny fire she had going; if it went out, the whole rigamarole was to do over again. When she had counted to one hundred, slowly, she opened the door again. The Station was full of a pungent, oily smoke that was now being swiftly drawn up the chimney with the help of the draft from the open door. And any vermin that had been within the Station were either dead or fled.
Talia hauled the packs and bedrolls inside, then began to get them set up while Kris ducked inside long enough to get grain for the Companions and the chirras who were now in the stabling at the side of the building. She took a rushlight from her saddlebag by feel, and lit it from her bit of tinder. To her immense relief, the place seemed to be quite st.u.r.dy, and well maintained and supplied. She threw the bedrolls into the twin bedboxes, then proceeded (wistfully wishing for just a touch of Griffon"s Gift) to get a fire going. It took several false starts, but eventually she managed to get a respectable blaze on the cold hearth. Once the flames were high enough to provide illumination as well as warmth, she extinguished the light she"d lit; no sense in wasting what wasn"t really necessary, and the rushlights took up so much s.p.a.ce in the packs that they didn"t carry many of them. She unpacked some of their food supplies and unsealed the vermin-proof cendal-wood bins the Station staples were kept in to put together a reasonable meal, then took two of the larger pots outside to the well to get water for washing and cooking.
Kris seemed to be taking overly long with bedding down the chirras and Companions; she"d managed to heat enough water for both of them to wash, had fixed a meal, and had cleaned herself up and changed into a worn shift and old breeches she kept for sleeping in before he finally appeared. She was about to chide him for being so slow, when she realized that he"d dawdled on purpose.
"Kris, you don"t have to be so thrice-blessed chivalrous, you know," she said instead, feeling his reticence sharply, and being irrationally irritated by it. "All the children on the Holdings sleep in the same room until they"re thirteen, and you know very well I"ve shared Waystations and tents with my whole year-group while we were in training. I can"t possibly have something you"ve never seen before*and the same goes for you."
"I"m ... just not used to having a woman as a partner," he said.
"Then stop thinking of me as a woman," she yawned, bundling herself into her bedroll and blinkmg at him sleepily through the firelight. Her irritation was gone as quickly as it had come, once she"d reinforced her shielding*although the fact that she"d had to do the latter bothered her; she shouldn"t have needed to.
"That"s easy for you to say!" he retorted.
"Then pretend I"m Keren, with no interest in men whatsoever. Because if you don"t, one of these evenings I"m going to find an ice statue waiting outside the door*and it"ll be you!"
He chuckled, and admitted that she just might be right.