Chapter Two:

Vanyel awoke feeling bemused the morning after his first night with his Aunt in Haven. On one hand, Aunt Savil was just as much an iron-hearted bitch as he remembered, and it was clear her opinion of him hadn't improved. On the other hand, not only had she ripped up his Father's letter, she was enrolling him in classes with Bardic students. I'm sure Father told her I'm to be kept away from the Bards. Is she defying him or is this the only way to put me in lessons? I suppose I'll never find out if I don't get out of bed, however. And I'll remain on my guard. Any of them could hurt me. Especially that lovely blonde Trainee of hers. Gods. He flung himself out of bed. Time to greet the day, I suppose, and weapons work first thing. As long as I don't get a cracked skull out of it it'll be better than with Jervis. And wasn't it a Herald that wrote the damned book that got me into trouble in the first place? Hmm. Continuing with his internal monologue, he strode into the common room of the suite to find both breakfast and the female Trainee waiting for him.

Vanyel entered his Literature class several candlemarks later feeling very confused. Lessons had been bad enough, but the conversation he'd heard in the hall, about testing him…so there was a Bardic Gift? And if there was, did that mean the rest of his fever dream about the Healer was real? Could he really get out from under his Father's thumb and become a Bard?

When Bard Breda asked him to play, he put his heart and soul into the music. All his pent-up longing and frustration he took out on the song. Was it his imagination or did her expression flicker? He bent over the gittern with renewed concentration for the remainder of the song. When he finished, there was polite applause from his classmates. He looked up, hardly daring to hope, and saw a smile on Breda's face. "See me after class, lad. I want to talk with you." He breathed a sigh of relief and barely heard a word that was spoken for the rest of class.

"Well young Vanyel," said Breda, looking intently at him, "You seem to have the Bardic Gift. Not strongly, but enough to enroll you in the Bardic Collegium, despite you being your father's heir. That is, if you wish to join."

"Oh, yes, please!" He cried, breaking his reserve. "Music is all I've ever wanted. I never wanted to be the heir, and truth be told, Father would rather have my brother in that position anyway. But he'll still object to my being a Bard just on principle," Vanyel said, looking worried.

"That doesn't matter anymore, lad. With the Gift and the Talent, we can enroll you in Bardic without any say in the matter from your father. You belong to Valdemar now, not him. Now, what say you we take a tour of the Collegium, then we go see your Aunt about enrolling you? It was her idea to test you in the first place." She stood and offered him a hand up.

"I'd love it." Together they walked out of the classroom and into the halls of Bardic Collegium.

Savil looked up from her supper to see her nephew enter the room escorted by Bard Breda. What surprised her most, however, was the expression of total joy and fulfillment he wore. It was by far the most open expression she'd ever seen on him, and transformed him from an arrogant brat to a young man no different from her Trainees.

"I take it this means you want him as your apprentice?" she asked Breda.

"Yes. He doesn't have an incredibly strong Gift, but its enough to take him away from his father. We just need to go through the formalities." Breda turned to Vanyel. "Van, I'm sure you noticed that we're a little cramped over at Bardic. If Savil allows it, you can live here instead of in the apprentice dormitories. If you live in the dorms, you'll have to share a room with someone."

"I don't mind having him here," Savil spoke up. "I've certainly got no other use for that room."

"Then," Vanyel said timidly, "I'd like to stay here. There's more room, and, well, I'd like to get to know you better, Aunt."

"Get to me? Why?

Vanyel's eyes widened in shock. "Havens, Aunt! You defied Father for me. No one but Lissa does that. No one but Lissa and I defy him at all. Father sent instructions to keep me as far away from the Bards as possible, and instead you sent me over to be tested for admittance. How could I not like you after that?"

"Ah." She settled back into her chair. "I just wish I'd seen your Gift earlier, lad. Breda, how did you find it? I didn't seen anything but potential when I tested him for Gifts a year ago."

Vanyel coughed. "Ah, I may have the answer to that. I'm not sure though. Up until today I thought it had been another fever dream, and I'm still not sure on the details. When I cracked my skull, the Healer said something about head trauma being able to awaken dormant Gifts."

"That would explain it," Breda said. "I'll leave you to your supper. Vanyel, come by my office in the morning so we can talk about your schedule." She left the suite.

By now, Savil's Trainees had drifted in to eat, but she paid them no attention. "Sit, lad," she told Vanyel. "I want to hear about this cracked skull."

He shrugged and sat on the couch in front of her. "It happened a few weeks ago—they only waited for me to heal before packing me off—during weapons practice."

She raised an eyebrow. "I've never heard of anyone getting injured that badly just training with the weaponsmaster. Or did another student hurt you?"

"It happens when your Father tells the armsmaster to use any means necessary to beat the sissyness out of you and turn you into a real man," her nephew told her bitterly.

"Withen thought you were—"

"A nancy-boy, yes," he nodded. "I guess it started when Lissa and I were children and she used to dress me in her outgrown dresses, but he's never liked my music or my clothes. Doesn't understand why I'm not eager to get hacked to pieces in a fight." He ducked his head.

"I assume that's what got you sent off to Haven," Savil sighed. "I hate to say it, but my brother's gotten much more hidebound in his old age. By the way, I prefer to use the term shay'a'chern, not nancy-boy. It's much more polite."
He looked at her with hope in his eyes. "Then you don't mind?"

"Mind? How could I, when one of my own Trainees is the same way? No, lad, what you do in bed is nobody's business but your own. Now, eat something and take yourself off to bed. It's been a long day for you."

"Thank you, Aunt." He smiled at her, then left the common room.

Tylendel came out of the background to sit on the couch were Vanyel had. "Well, Teacher, he Feels quite different than he did last night. Like he's been hurt but is healing. Ye gods! The pain when he talked about his Father, though. I think he's been starved for affection for a long time."

"That fits with what I read. I wouldn't be surprised if his sister was the only one in that family who showed him real affection. My brother didn't want a son, he wanted a miniature copy of himself to parade around."

"Poor boy. He would be shay'a'chern, and test my self-control."

Savil looked at her protege. "'Lendel..."

"Don't worry. I'm not going to jump his bones. I want him to settle in first."

"That's all I ask. I don't want either of you to get your hearts broken."