The night was turning chill as Neave made his way from the Bardic Collegium. It wasn't terribly late, but with the nights drawing in, it felt much later than it was. By the smell of the air, they might have snow by the morning.

He reached out to Kyldathar to see that she was comfortable. :I'm fine, love: she replied sleepily.

He took the short cut through the atrium of the Great Hall. After four and a half years, he had learned a great many short cuts. Dinner at Court was served somewhat later than at any of the Collegia and there were still quite a few young courtiers hanging around. Neave nodded and smiled politely to those who greeted him.

He turned to the hallway that led to the Heralds wing and to the Trainee's dormitory. It was not much used this time of day and only every other candle was lit. He heard a male voice speaking softly as Neave passed one of the cross corridors, one that led to one of the store rooms. He didn't think much of it--many young lovers sought out the privacy of these niches for their trysts. However, the female voice that replied was shrill.

That brought him up short--something about her voice gave him a bad feeling. He retraced his steps and turned down the short corridor. The door at the end was shut. Very quietly he leaned his ear close to the door. The man's words were indistinct, but the tone was wheedling, cajoling. The woman's voice, however, was rising in volume and pitch, "Milord," she said, "Please. Just leave me alone."

That was enough for Neave. If he was wrong in his assumptions, he could always claim he was looking for something in the storeroom.

He opened the door slowly. The man faced away from him and had the woman (a girl really) apparently pinned against the wall. The man's hands held the girl's skirts. She had one hand on his wrist, one hand on his chest and appeared to be pushing him away.

"Is everything all right?" he asked mildly.

The man turned halfway around, not letting go of the girl, "Everything's fine" he said haughtily, "Now, go." Neave realized that the man was probably about the same age as himself and likely quite drunk, judging by the slurring of his words and the odor of wine Neave could smell from five feet away.

"I was asking the lady." Neave said using that same mild voice. Neave's stomach fluttered, but he took two deep calming breaths as he had been taught. The girl was looking at him with a pleading expression. By her clothes, she was one of the servants, "I distinctly heard her ask to be left alone." He let go of the door, giving it a little push as he did so that it swung completely open.

The other man let go of the girl, turned to face Neave completely, "This is none of your affair." he snarled.

Over the man's shoulder, Neave saw the girl pulling her disheveled clothes together, her face was colorless in the candle light, "Please," she said, her voice was frightened, "His Lordship's had too much wine. And..."

The young man turned and backhanded the girl, "Quiet, slut." he said.

"That's enough." said Neave coldly, he moved two steps closer before the drunken man had time to turn back around. The man seemed to take ages to register that Neave was so close, Neave had plenty of time to grab the offending hand and twist it up around the man's back. He pushed the man to the ground with his knee in his back.

Neave realized he was very close to breaking the man's arm when Kyldathar called sharply :Chosen! Enough!:. He let go of the arm and hauled the man to his feet by the collar.

"I suggest you go find another way to spend your evening." He snarled in that same cold voice.

The man started to babble something about his father, "My father will find out who you are! He'll have you up on charges when he does!"

"I'll save him the trouble. I'm Herald Trainee Neave. I'm sure Dean Elcarth and Herald Kyril will be at his disposal to discuss this incident." Neave's calm, chilly voice seemed to unnerve the man more than anything. When Neave let the man go, he staggered backwards a few steps, then turned and fled. Possibly to go find his father.

Neave turned to the girl, she was leaning against the wall where she'd stumbled when she'd been hit, "Are you all right?" he asked gently.

She shook her head, started sobbing.

Neave thought quickly, the young "gentleman" might have half the Court here in a minute. He was sure the poor girl could do without that. He didn't like to take her to the servants quarters--he'd have to take her through the atrium. "Come on, miss. I think Housekeeper will still be up." he noticed a bruise beginning to bloom on her cheek. He hoped what he'd interrupted hadn't gone too far.

He took her through the doors to the Herald's wing. Fortunately, most of the Courtiers were too intimidated to wander the Herald's wing with impunity. They didn't meet anyone as they made their way to Houskeeper's door. Neave wished a Herald would appear, but none did. The poor girl was still crying, albeit more quietly now. Neave wished he had a handkerchief. The girl's crying was making his stomach hurt.

They finally reached Housekeepers door. Neave knocked. Houskeeper answered after a moment, "Neave?" she said surprised, "What...?" she stared at the weeping girl.

"I'm sorry, Housekeeper. I'm afraid the young lady's in a bad way. I'm not sure what to do. Could you...see to her?" He wondered if the girl might need a healer.

"Of course, dear." Housekeeper said, "But what happened?" she reached out and drew the girl in through the door.

"I'm not sure. There was-- a problem-- with one of the younger Courtiers...I came in at the end. He hit her, but I don't know what else happened. I'm sure she could tell you." Neave thought that the girl might be more likely to explain to Housekeeper what happened if she didn't have an audience, "I have to go see the Dean."

**

Neave had never been to the Dean's personal quarters before. Housekeeper helpfully told him where they were. Neave thought it would probably be better if he informed the Dean about this before all hell broke loose in the form of enraged courtiers.

He took a moment to reach out to Kyldathar who sent back her strength, as always.

Neave was relieved when Elcarth answered the door looking as if he had not yet retired for the evening, "I'm sorry to disturb you," Neave said in a rush, "But I think I may be in some trouble."

"Oh?" asked Elcarth "What sort of trouble?" he looked surprised. "You'd better come in and explain." He turned and Neave followed. Elcarth moved a stack of papers off the couch where he'd been reading them back to the desk. Indicated Neave should sit down and pulled one of the other chairs closer.

Neave explained the whole incident to the Dean, "He said he was going to have his father bring me up on charges." Neave finished.

The Dean looked very grave, "Where is the young woman?" he asked.

"I left her with Housekeeper." replied Neave

"Why didn't you bring her with you?" Elcarth asked curiously.

"She seemed so upset...I thought that she needed to be somewhere safe. I wasn't sure if maybe she needed a healer. He hit her pretty hard. And I really don't know what happened before I came in. I thought that Housekeeper would be in. Otherwise, I think I would have taken her to Healer's." Neave shook his head, "I didn't want to scare her more than she already was."

Elcarth got that "listening" look he had when another Herald was Mindspeaking to him, "Well, it seems the young man's father has found Herald Kyril already. I've told him you're here. They'll be here in a moment."

Neave took a long breath.

Elcarth stood and brushed off his tunic, poured himself a glass of wine from the sideboard, "He hit the girl before you took him down? Are you absolutely sure?"

"Yes, sir."

Elcarth nodded to himself. Someone rapped on the door. "Come" called Elcarth.

Neave stood as Herald Kyril and a Lord Neave didn't know swept into the room. Apparently the son was not to be part of this interview. Neave planted his feet solidly and clasped his hands behind his back.

"Is this the boy?" demanded the Lord.

"This is Herald-trainee Neave." said Elcarth, "Can you explain what the trouble is?"

"Apparently he attacked my son because the girl he'd arranged to meet spurned him for my son. Damned near broke his arm." the Lord said grimly, "I think that charges for assault should be pressed."

Kyril looked at Elcarth and Neave was fairly certain that Elcarth was filling him in.

"Well, boy? What do you have to say for yourself?" roared the Lord.

Neave looked at the Lord levelly, "I found him forcing his affections on a female servant. I asked the young woman if she was all right. She said that he'd had to much wine. He struck her. I stopped him."

"Ha! So you say. Where is the girl, then?" the Lord asked aggressively, looking around.

"She was hurt and upset. I took her somewhere safe." Neave hadn't moved so much as a hair. He was so tense he wasn't sure he could. He wasn't going to give the Lord the opportunity to go charging off to frighten the girl to death.

"Now, even if what your son said is true," said Kyril gravely, "It seems just a scrap between the lads, not something you want to press charges on."

"And I'm telling you, this boy damned near broke my son's arm!"

"I beg your pardon my lord," Neave said respectfully, "I've been training with Alberich for over two years now. If I had meant to break his arm, it would be broken." He wasn't going to inform them of how close he came, if possible.

Neave thought that the corner of Elcarth's mouth had quirked up for a second.

"If I am to be charged, my lord," continued Neave, "I request to be Truth Spelled."

That brought the Lord and Kyril up short. Elcarth looked completely unsurprised. Only one who was very sure of his innocence requested to be Truth Spelled.

"Aye, go on then Kyril" blustered the Lord.

Kyril exchanged another glance with Elcarth. Kyril turned his attention to Neave, invoking the Spell, "Neave, would tell us exactly what happened with this young man tonight?"

The story Neave told was almost word for word what he'd told Elcarth.

The Lord was looking most uncomfortable, "What were you doing there in the first place?" he demanded, seemingly looking for a way to blame Neave for something.

"I was coming back from Bardic where I'd been visiting a friend." Neave replied.

There was another knock at the door. Kyril dispelled the Truth Spell as Elcarth called "Come in"

Housekeeper Gaytha stood there looking angry enough to spit nails, "Good, Kyril, you're here. I've just come back from putting that poor girl to bed. I think you need to talk to Selenay about the liberties some of those young courtiers are taking with the servant girls."

Kyril turned to the Lord, "It appears sir, that we need not trouble the Dean any further. Perhaps we should move this discussion to my office?" he turned to Housekeeper, "Will you come with us?"

The three of them swept out.

Neave sagged where he stood, his knees were shaking now that he was no longer under Kyril and the Lord's eye, "I'll leave you to your rest, Dean." he said, turning to Elcarth.

Elcarth was shaking his head with a half smile, "No, you don't. Sit." he poured a second glass of wine and handed it to Neave who took it with a shaking hand.

Neave sat. Leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes.

"You all right?" asked Elcarth solicitously.

Neave opened his eyes and smiled weakly, nodded, "I think I'll live. I'm sorry I had to disturb you."

"Occupational hazard, I'm afraid." Elcarth seated himself comfortably, "You may have made an enemy, you know."

Neave sighed, "I can't say I particularly care. And I don't think I had a choice."

"No, there really was no choice for a Herald." Elcarth agreed, "I'm just glad that you didn't actually injure the young 'gentleman'"

"I nearly did break his arm, you know. Kyldathar stopped me." Neave confessed.

Elcarth smiled, "I don't think you would have listened to her if you really had been intent on doing him injury. I must say, you handled that well. I think that volunteering to be Truth Spelled right off saved us several tiresome hours."

"That's what I hoped." Neave found that even with the wine, he was still vibrating with tension, "I had planned on a quiet evening."

**

"Neave! What have they done?" Mara was saying. He couldn't breathe. When he tried, he tasted blood in the back of his throat. He heard Mara arguing with Garek again, "If he dies, the law keepers would much rather blame you than Prince Ancar."

She came back, placed her hands on his side and muttered something in a strange language. The blood taste subsided. He drew a careful breath. "I wasn't sure I had that in me." said Mara wearily.

:Neave. Wake up: called Kyldathar

Neave was shaking. He hadn't had that particular dream in a very long time. It seemed that his encounter tonight had upset him more than he thought. Cursing, he pulled his bed roll out from under his bed. Cold or not, he knew he wasn't likely to sleep at all if he stayed here.

**

Neave looked at himself in the glass with a certain level of astonishment. Somehow, he hadn't been sure he'd ever earn his Whites.

"Hey there, handsome." called Christa through the open door, "You all packed?"

Neave turned to her with a smile. "I think so."

She came in, gave him a hug, "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too."