Part II of III
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The next morning Vanyel slid out of bed and dressed carefully. If he was going to confront Withern today he wanted to be at his most impressive. So instead of his normal Whites he pulled out the Formal Whites he kept for important occasions and foreign diplomats. He pulled the loose silk of the inner tunic over his head. Next was the stiff white leather of the outer tunic. It was a piece of material with amber embroidery and crisp military lines accentuating his wide shoulders and thin waist.
When he had stepped into the suede breeches and tied the white hooded cloak around his shoulders he stepped out of the bedroom to retrieve Stefen's medication. He gave an affirmative murmur when he heard a knock at the door and looked up just in time to see Medren's admiring surprise at his appearance. He smiled at his nephew and said, "Medren, would you mind staying with Stef for a while?"
"I was going to suggest it, actually," Medren admitted. "He looked exhausted last night, I wasn't sure he'd hold up going to the Audience Hall."
"I'm going to tell Randale he can't help anymore. According to Andy he needs to rest, he's going to lose strength quickly."
"I know Stef's going to hate it. He likes to be useful."
"He's so stubborn," Vanyel said with a low chuckle.
"He has very good hearing, too," Stefen's voice muttered, causing both Vanyel and Medren to jump as they exchanged sheepish looks.
Vanyel poured a glassful of the liquid and headed back to the bedroom, followed by Medren. He avoided his lover's affronted gaze as he sat on the edge of the bed, supporting the Bard. With a half-hearted frown Stefen drank it, shuddering. He placed a warm kiss on Stef's forehead and walked out, trying to ignore the narrowed eyes. He sighed as he put on his normal boots; he was going to pay for the 'stubborn' comment later.
He stepped out of their quarters, heading for Savil's rooms. He knew Andrel would be there, the Healer spent a great deal of his free time with Vanyel's aunt.
He chuckled as he remembered the shock when he'd realized that his stiff, willful Aunt had lifebonded to the kind-natured and agreeable Healer. According to Savil the lifebond had been in place for years, since before Vanyel had come to Haven. That was why she'd trusted him enough to drug Vanyel with argonel after Tylendel had died. He extended a careful thought out to his Aunt, making sure he could come in.
He received a cheerful approval and walked in with a smile. His aunt sat in her favorite chair, a huge monstrosity that Vanyel had persuaded her to have recovered in warm gray. The number of times he'd been in here sitting at her feet when she was in that chair he couldn't even begin to count. She also wore her Formal Whites, though hers were embroidered in a soft rose-pink.
The embroidery was unique to each of the Herald-Mages, of whom Savil and Vanyel were the last. It matched their mage-focus, the stone through which they could concentrate Mage-Gifts the best. Savil's was the rose quartz, Vanyel's was amber. For a moment his fingers drifted against the half-globe of flawless amber set into a pendant around his neck. Stef had given it to him after he returned from Rethwellan and a meeting with Queen Lythiaren.
Savil chuckled and said, "Well, don't we look the fine pair of peacocks."
She stood wearily and stepped up to Vanyel. She looked deep into his eyes before she said, "Ready, nephew?"
"More than ready," Vanyel replied.
"Let's go. Andy, are you coming?"
"I'll be there in a minute. I want to check on Stefen."
"Medren's with him. If he's a little irritable it's because he's beginning to realize that he's being too obstinate for his own good."
Andrel chuckled and said, "I'm not surprised he's annoyed. Anytime I've run into him in the past he's been the most impatient to heal and get on with what he was doing. He seems to think he has to do everything at twice the normal speed."
As Andrel disappeared out the door Vanyel laughed ruefully and said, "I'm going to pay for that later. He overheard me say that he's stubborn and he was glaring daggers at me."
"Whoops," Savil giggled.
As they walked down the hall she sobered and said as she looked at him, "Ke'chara, I'm worried about you. How are you holding up?"
"Most of the time I'm doing all right. When I'm tired or thinking too much it will catch up to me that I'm going to be alone again and I feel like running for hours. I'm afraid to be alone again, Aunt," his voice was a whisper.
When she looked at him encouragingly he continued, "The other half of the time I feel so angry, Savil. I hate it because I know I'm not like this, but it's just so unfair. I lost 'Lendel after such a short time and now I'm going to lose Stef. You think that every once in a while my life could be normal."
"The life of a Herald-Mage is never normal, but you have to remember that you aren't alone, Vanyel. I love you as much as if you were mine and your kids all love you very much. Medren considers you his favorite person in our crazy family and you can't forget our Tayledras friends Starwind and Moondance. You're their Wingbrother, that's more of a tie than blood to them. As far as feeling angry, you have a right to feel emotions Vanyel, you just can't act on them in Haven's legal system."
"I know I'm not alone, Aunt. It's just that Stef is my lifebonded, my other half. I love him more than I do myself."
He frowned for a moment in thought and then continued, choosing his words carefully. "It's odd, Savil. As far as lifebonds go, Stefen means more to me than 'Lendel did. When I met 'Lendel, his appearance and my feelings for him were a shock. I'd had no idea about the shay'a'chern and he was the first person besides you that didn't ignore me. I became so dependent on him that I forgot that love has to be equal. Stefen is different. He's so wonderful and perfect in his own way but I know him more than I did Tylendel. It's as if 'Lendel was nothing more than a crush and Stef represents love. That must sound odd," he finished with a mutter.
"No, Van. It makes perfect sense. If I think about it, that's the way 'Lendel was to everyone. He was just so beautiful that he was a shock and his," she paused, searching for the right word, "willing nature made him hard to hold onto. Stefen's more stable, concrete."
"All though," she said with a wicked grin, "according to Medren Stefen and 'Lendel have one thing in common."
"What would that be?" Vanyel asked, puzzled by her expression.
"Experience in certain matters," she answered, watching him flush.
She laughed out loud.
Vanyel just grumbled.
*
Stefen leaned back into the couch cushions after Andrel left, wrapped in two heavy thermal blankets. With his eyes closed he sighed as the heat from the roaring fire flickered against his face. He opened his eyes (it was too bright!) and looked at Medren, sitting across from him in the same chair as last night.
"You know," he mumbled, "I'm not going to break if someone sits next to me."
He heard Medren stand and walk over to sit next to him, felt the weight settle next to him. He sighed and leaned his head against his best friend's shoulder. Medren remained stiff for a moment and then wrapped an arm around his shoulder.
"I'm not angry at you, Medren. I'm not really angry at Van either. I just hate being reminded that I'm useless now. Bards aren't as useful as Heralds or Healers but I was doing something when I was playing for Randale."
He stiffened against Medren's shoulder as he whispered, "Oh gods, I'm talking about myself in past tense."
"Stefen," Medren said urgently, "You are doing something important, just as important as the Healers and Heralds. If not for you there wouldn't be a pain-blocking technique. Just think of what that's going to do for the Heralds of Valdemar's future."
Lighting, pain and a great emptiness. "Or what it could have done for Heralds long gone,"Stef whispered.
Medren looked at him strangely for a moment and the said, "Stef, I think I'd better help you into the bedroom. You look tired, my friend."
"I'm always tired," Stef murmured, aware that he sounded like a petulant child but beyond caring.
When he was lying down, covered in blankets he closed his eyes as Medren picked up a lute and began to play. It was a sweet little melody, one of the first ones they had learned to play. Stefen smiled as he remembered learning to play that one, how hard it had seemed. It was so easy now, automatic…
He was standing on a hill overlooking Companion's Field. Only this wasn't that familiar place, it was too beautiful and perfect. It was so warm and bright, Stefen longed to step forward onto the grass, feel the blades between his toes. Just as he stepped forward he was surrounded by a gray fog.
Confused, he turned around and saw he wasn't alone. A tall figure wearing glowing white stood within a couple steps of him, an inviting smile on his perfect lips. As he gazed at the soft, subtle glow that surrounded the figure he said, "I know you."
The beautiful figure smiled and nodded. "I know you as well, Tylendel."
"I'm not Tylendel. My name is Stefen," Stefen corrected.
"Are you really? Then why do you remember things from another man's life? Why does your mind remember the touch of a Companion, or the pet name of your lifebonded?"
"What are you saying?" Stefen whispered.
"Do we ever really leave the ones we love?" the Shadow Lover asked. "You denied my embrace last time and rightly so. The one you left behind needed to be healed and you wouldn't leave him in the mess created after you threw yourself off the Bell tower."
"Are you saying that I was 'Lendel?" Stef said incredulously.
Death nodded, a proud smile crossing his lips. "I will let you remember fully in a few days, Tylendel-Stefen. This time I think you will welcome the rest. You and your lifebonded have one common bond besides that of love, by the way."
As the distance began to grow between them Stefen raised his voice and shouted, "What is that bond, Shadow Lover?"
"You have both been offered my love before and you both rejected it. Goodbye, Tylendel-Stefen. I will meet with you again soon."
Stefen gasped and started upright. Head pounding he wondered if what he'd dreamed was true. The dream was pushed out of his mind as he realized something. Even though he could hear the crackle of the flames and he knew it wasn't that much later the room remained dark to his gaze. Belatedly he remembered Andrel's description of what would happen to him.
If his sight was gone, his body was beginning to shut down. He lay back down with a shiver, burrowing under the warmth of the blankets. He closed his eyes and sighed, fear of Death greatly reduced. He remembered the dream and smiled, he'd always known it was true. He'd always loved Vanyel.
* * *
Jisa stood not far from the throne, wearing a dark green dress that contrasted with her sable hair. She didn't wear gowns very often, feeling that they were too bulky to move in. Today she was in her official capacity as Consort to the Heir and future King's Own so she stood there in her pretty gown with jewels in her hair and felt out of place. She was not by any stretch of the imagination the clothes-horse her father had been.
Her silent companion was more of a shadow. In his black, dark blue and silver dress uniform, King's Guard Captain Arven Ashkevron looked more the part of a royal than his half-sister. The humorous greeting when they'd first met had been compounded upon learning they were half-siblings, sharing a stunning Herald-Mage as their father.
Arven pushed a lock of dark red hair out of his blue-gray eyes, keeping the other hand on the hilt of his elegant rapier. The blade was thin and rigid, with a beautifully made hilt of twisted silver and gold metal. Arven was the only one of their father's illegitimate children that carried his last name. Arven only had the name because he'd asked if Vanyel minded and the startled Herald hadn't.
Their father had no legitimate heirs because he was shay'a'chern and refused to marry a woman for the express purpose of siring a legitimate heir. Jisa quietly applauded her father's decision to not play by the rules of the Court. It didn't make him very popular with the nobles of Haven but it put him a cut above the rest in character. The fact that he was quite openly known as shayach had not pleased his father.
Jisa studied Lord Withern Ashkevron with a critical eye. She had never seen or met her grandfather but now she was glad of it. He was the perfect stereotype of a backwater Lord, known by appearance only to those in his territory.
She glanced at her half-brother and saw his upper lip curl in a snarl of disgust and hatred. Arven was Gifted, something Vanyel didn't know. It was a rare Gift, one that the Chronicler had to search back through the records to find the description of. It was about to be employed in its primary usage.
The double doors to the Audience Hall swung open, revealing Vanyel and Savil. Jisa smiled at her father, earning a small nod in return. The pair passed her and stopped in front of Randale, making the small bow required of Heralds to their King.
"Herald-Mage Vanyel and Herald-Mage Savil Ashkevron, what accusation to you wish to bring before me?"
Vanyel's voice was as hard as ice, "That Lord Withern Ashkevron, Lord of Forst Reach and Ashkevron Manor, did knowingly poison Bard Stefen of Haven."
"What is your response to this accusation, Lord Withern Ashkevron?"
"I am not guilty of this, my King. There is no proof behind this accusation."
Randale turned his head in Jisa's direction, pale face looking just past her. "King's Guard Captain Arven Ashkevron, please step forward."
Jisa saw Withern's quick expression of shock as Arven stepped past her into the light and his beautiful facial structure was cast into light. Also alone of all Vanyel's children Arven had inherited the fine-boned face. The quick, graceful bow was executed with military precision as Arven asked, "What would you require of me, my King?"
Randale looked into blue-gray eyes and said, "There are two questions needing to be answered here. First and most importantly, did Withern Ashkevron knowingly poison Bard Stefen? Second, what was his reason behind it?"
Arven gave a brisk nod of acknowledgement as Randale turned to Withern and said, "You have given me the power to use the Gifts to prove your guilt or innocence by appearing before me today, Lord Withern. Those Gifts shall now be employed."
Among startled looks from Vanyel and Savil the young Guard Captain stepped forward. When he was a foot from Withern he shifted his pose to a loose parade rest, removing the elegant blade with one smooth action. Jisa tensed, why had he removed his blade? It wasn't required for what he was about to do.
He extended the narrow tip toward Withern and used gentle pressure to force the Lord to look at him. Withern gasped as his eyes met the flat gaze and went rigid. Neither Arven nor Withern heard the loud crack that followed the direct eye contact, but it seemed to echo in the empty chamber. A subtle blue glow ran the length of the blade and wrapped Withern in a faint mist. There was absolute silence in the room for a few moments.
Arven began to speak in a flat monotone. "Withern was aware of what he was doing. The clear poison was already in the glass when he removed it from the cabinet. The pear wine was selected due to the fact that Bard Stefen had never tried it before. Withern's original target was his son Vanyel Ashkevron but he chose Stefen instead, knowing it would hurt the Herald-Mage."
Arven continued, "The reasoning behind the poison was to break Vanyel away from what Withern considers impure. Withern sees Bard Stefen as little more than a well-behaved charlatan. He considers the Bardic Collegium to be of little true worth. He believes that the lifebond between Bard Stefen and Vanyel Ashkevron to be a charade."
The young Guard Captain blinked once and gave a long, shuddering sigh. As he lowered the blade away from Withern's face the Lord Ashkevron's eyes came alive with rage and he spat, "You lie!"
"I cannot lie while using my Gift, Lord Withern," Arven answered mildly. He changed his grip on the blade and put it away with a smooth, fluid action.
"Guard Captain, in your eyes as seen by your Gift, is Lord Withern guilty as accused?"
"Yes," was his answer, while Withern seethed.
"If it were in your hands, Arven Ashkevron, what would you do with him?"
Arven turned to face Randale, expression solemn and proud. "If he were a military officer, sir, I would recommend sending him to the front lines of the Border in chains. As it is, I say that his crime is worthy of execution," he stated, continuing as Withern's face began to pale, "possibly by poison. Not by the kind he gave Bard Stefen, I doubt the Healers would want to put up with him for five days. Something quick and painful, so that he understands what he's done before he dies."
"That is somewhat brutal, Captain Arven," Shavri stated.
"So, it is said, is the ripping of a lifebond by unnatural death," Arven retorted.
"You call yourself by the name Ashkevron and yet you would have me killed," Withern snarled.
"That is because the one who will be most affected by Bard Stefen's loss is my honored father!" Arven shot back.
"Enough, Arven," Vanyel murmured.
"As you desire, Father."
Arven made a crisp bow to the King and left, smiling faintly at Jisa as he passed. Jisa stepped forward, out of the shadows. She ignored her father's faint start of surprise at seeing her in a dress and said to Withern, "It is difficult to accuse King's Guard Captain Arven Ashkevron of lying, Lord Withern. Not only is it impossible for a person to lie while using a Gift, but Arven has one of the rarest of all."
"Arven's Gift is called TrueSight and it has not appeared for the last hundred years. TrueSight means that when direct eye contact is made after having been asked a certain question about that person he sees the truth as it is from their own thoughts. It is impossible to hide your thoughts from one with TrueSight."
"Withern Ashkevron, you have been found guilty of poisoning Bard Stefen, said person being a member of a Collegium and under the direct protection of the Crown. As such you are hereby stripped of your titles, said titles being Lord of Ashkevron Manor and Lord of Forst Reach. Titles shall pass to your designated Heir, Mekeal Ashkevron. Sentencing is execution, method to be determined at a later date," Randale intoned with a flat voice.
After Withern had been escorted out of the Audience Hall to one of the holding cells below Randale slumped and muttered, "Gods, what a mess."
"I just thank those same gods that we have one with TrueSight in the Palace," Jisa replied.
"Indeed, we are lucky to have Arven here among us. Without that Gift it is likely I would be dead," Randale agreed.
Shavri looked at Vanyel and Savil and said, "Arven's usual patrol is out near the entrance to the Palace. We give him a few questions and he uses his TrueSight to See if anyone means Randi harm. Just a few weeks ago he was here in the Audience Hall when a Mage-shielded assassin entered with a party from Hardorn. Arven brought out his blade and hit the man in the back of the head, killing him instantly. We were shocked to say the least; Arven usually gives a very good reason for his actions. The minute he died, the appearance the mage had crafted fell apart."
"Thank goodness the Hardorn party had nothing to do with it. They were as surprised as we were," Treven put in, speaking for the first time. Standing to the left of Randale in his Heraldic Whites he glowed in the lights of the Hall.
"I would ask one last thing of you, Randale," Vanyel said, eyes darkening with shadowed pain.
"What would that be, Herald-Mage?"
The official tone of voice seemed to help him; Jisa noticed that the silver eyes gained more of their former shielded look. Jisa had Empathy enough to feel her father's mental torment though and she ached to comfort him. She saw Savil wince and knew that the woman saw what she did.
"I ask for you to release Bard Stefen from his duty, my King. He grows weaker day by day and he has not been able to play music for quite some time now," Vanyel's voice was little more than a whisper.
"Granted, Herald-Mage Vanyel. I also think that the throne and Haven can do without your considerable help for a few days, Vanyel. Do not bother reporting in, stay with the one who needs you most."
"Thank you, my King." The two Herald-Mages made their bows and Jisa was stunned to notice that Savil's was steadier than her father's. They exited the hall together as quickly as they'd come.
* * *