Darren walked along the river, in the blue of the early evening. The moon was close to the horizon and a fresh wind was coming up.

Selenay was in a late audience, otherwise he would have liked to have her with him. There were quite a few people out here tonight, enjoying the late summer weather.

Idly he noticed one of the younger Companions playing guard at one of the grottoes. He'd noticed that one a few times in the last couple weeks. He knew that these grottoes were popular with trainees who wanted some discretion with their trysts. The Companion looked at Darren, seeing him in the shadows. Darren had the feeling that the Companion thought he was intruding.

He ducked back into the shadows, when he heard the occupant's footsteps walking out. not wanting to disturb the lovers.

His son Kris appeared first, smoothing his blond hair. Then holding his hand, a tall, curly haired girl in a trainee uniform. Darren held his breath. He had a sudden foreboding that this scene was not what it seemed. For one thing, he couldn't think of a girl among the trainees who remotely looked like this.

The girl turned to her Companion for moment and laughed in a decidedly un-girlish way. Then she—no he-- kissed Kris on the lips. Darren sucked in his breath harshly, when Kris returned the other boy's kiss with evident enjoyment.

The boys didn't see Darren, although the boy's Companion looked at Darren warningly.

Darren felt that he was a tolerant man. He had had shaych friends over the years. He knew that it was common among the Shin'a'in and the Tayledras. But that was their culture...anyway, most of the Tayledras were mages, so they could be allowed certain—eccentricities. And there were some among the Heralds, of course.

But, this..this was taking advantage of Darren's own son.

Darren had visions of that...unnatural creature...seducing his impressionable son. Surely--certainly, Kris had no idea what it all meant. after all the boy was only 17. He had no experience in the world...

Darren took two steps towards the boys' receding figures. He meant to rip the stranger boy's hands from his son and give that creature a thorough thrashing.

The ground was too soft for Darren to hear his Companion charging up behind him. Or perhaps it was the pounding of blood in Darren's ears. Jasan swerved at the last minute so that he shoved Darren onto his face and then danced around in front of him. Between Darren and the boys.

:Think that just once, Chosen.: Said Jasan, his mind voice cold and deadly calm. :Think it and never act on it.:

Darren got to his feet slowly, faced with his own Companion looking at him with eyes of blue ice, :Assuming, Del didn't kill you. Assuming I could stop him. Assuming I tried to stop him...You would lose your Companion, your kingdom, your children, your wife and then your life. In that order.:

Darren recoiled from his Companion's anger. :But..:

:That creature is a Herald-Trainee. Assaulting a Herald Trainee is treason. I would repudiate you for assaulting an innocent boy. You would hang, and I would watch you.: Jasan's eyes seemed to glow brighter with each word.

"What the hell's going on here?!" demanded a furious whisper. Darren looked over his shoulder and saw Kerowyn charging up on Sayvil, "And why am I supposed to be quiet?"

Jasan looked at Sayvil who snorted angrily, Evidently Sayvil told Kerowyn what was happening. She sagged on Sayvil's bare back for a moment.

Recovering, she jumped down and stood in front of Darren. "Right. Come on." she still kept her voice down. She took his arm to lead him the opposite way,

For a moment he resisted. The cold eyes of the Companions changed his mind. Kerowyn dragged him the long way to the salle, to avoid crossing the boys' path as they made their way back to their respective dorms.

Kerowyn didn't bother with a candle, she just filled both their mugs from the barrel of ale she kept out here, in her office. The fading twilight was sufficient as she took the mugs out to Darren who sat on the bench outside under the eyes of Sayvil and Jasan.

Darren looked like he had the night she'd turned down his offer of marriage. Like his world had been turned inside out.

"So...you want to tell me what the hell that was?" Kerowyn said, she remained standing.

"Kris was with..." Darren choked out, unable to go on, it seemed.

"Talia's nephew. Yes, I thought they were making eyes at each other."

Sayvil and Jasan had moved off, a little. Kerowyn had the distinct impression that Sayvil was comforting Jasan.

"You knew?"

Kerowyn snorted "You didn't?"

Darren drank his ale. "How long.. has he been like this?"

"How long have his eyes been blue?" Kerowyn asked rhetorically, "He had a little romance with a Skybolt recruit last winter."

"H-he what? Didn't you stop it?"

Sayvil's head went up and she moved back toward them :And what would you suggest she do? Beat it out of him?:

Darren heard that and winced. "But there must be something..."

Jasan glared at his Chosen, :Do you want to know where that leads?:

A series of images flooded over Darren.

A black haired boy opening his wrists on a white marble floor/a boy falling from a tower/a boy bleeding to death in the snow/a man looking for his own death.

And with the images were blackest grief and despair, broken hearts, tears that would not stop.

The sending stopped abruptly. Darren sat shaking.

Kerowyn gave him the rest of her mug of ale. "Grow up Darren, " she said unsympathetically, "The Companions don't care. The Healer's don't care. Selenay won't care. Lyra already knows. Elspeth and Talia will think it's sweet. That stupid Rethwellan prejudice is the only thing standing between you and your only son. And you and your Companion I might add." she jerked her chin at where Sayvil had gone to stand with Jasan again.

She realized she was feeling terribly bitter right now. Talia's illness had her thinking about her mother's death. "Do you know that half the reason my father never allowed Grandmother to help my mother was that he was convinced that Tarma and Grandmother were lovers? He let his wife, that he loved more than anything, die rather than ask for help from someone who might possibly be shechorne." That might have been overstating it, but she didn't care right now.

She took a deep breath, sat down next to Darren. "The boy's been afraid of you finding out. He's no fool. He asked last winter if he could join the Skybolts if you couldn't cope. I'd have him, too. Especially now that the boy's going to be Healer"

Darren was quiet for a long time. Kerowyn went inside and refilled their mugs. She came back and sat with him again. He sat looking at the Companions, who stood with their heads together.

About halfway down his mug, he said "How did you know what was happening?" his voice was subdued.

Kerowyn shrugged. "Sayvil told me. And I've known those two have been together for a few days...they're not nearly as discreet as they think they are."

"So, who else knows?" Darren asked.

"Not that many people. Maybe some of the Healers, a couple of the Heralds teaching them."

"What should I do?" asked Darren

"Apologize to your Companion. Decide that your son is more important than narrow minded Courtiers. Let him know you think so." Kerowyn said firmly.

Darren sat silently for another long time, looking at Jasan and Sayvil in the moonlight. Distantly, from Companion's Field, harp song drifted over.

"I suppose I better make a start." said Darren draining his mug. He got up and walked over to Jasan and Sayvil. "Jasan?" he said softly. "Can we walk?" The Companion nodded, shook himself. Darren and his Companion walked off into the moonlight.

Kerowyn stayed at her seat. :Are they going to be all right?: she asked Sayvil.

:I think so. I'm glad you were nearby. With Talia not up to handling this sort of thing, it could have gotten...ugly:

"That wasn't ugly?" Kerowyn said out loud, shaking her head.

:No one was hurt. Darren and Jasan will work it out, Kris and Andrean will never know about it. We did not have to see the first repudiation in seven hundred years.:

Kerowyn swallowed, fearful "Would Jasan have really..?"

:He would have, if his Chosen had done what was in his heart, right then. And Selenay made assaulting a Trainee a treasonous offense when the war started. She would have had Darren hung. I believe that it would have destroyed her.:

"I wish Eldan were home." said Kerowyn, lonely even with Sayvil standing near.

:When is he supposed to be back?:

"A week, perhaps two—Selenay sent him on some courier run. Nothing earthshaking. I just miss him"

**

Talia sat curled against Dirk and Rolan on a blanket in the Field. Jemmy was playing an impromptu concert for them and a small crowd of Companions. Rolan suddenly sat up a little, ears back. anxiety radiating from him. Two Companions shot off from the group. Rolan's skin shivered like he was getting rid of flies, then he settled back.

Rolan seemed satisfied with whatever was happening, so Talia was disinclined to inquire. If she wasn't so tired all the damned time, she might have resented the cosseting. As it was...

She woke out of her doze a little while later. Darren had come down to listen with Jasan, she noticed. Darren looked and Felt a little agitated, but Rolan very firmly sent her an image of herself resting.

She closed her eyes again and drifted on the music.

**

Widow Fletcher bent over her garden, pulling up weeds. She was a woman who thought much and talked little. As she grew older, this trait became more pronounced. Her late husband had thought this her most attractive trait, as some of her co wives were given to chatter. Perhaps he would not have thought so if he had known what unseemly places her mind went to.

Since the death of her husband, her sister-wives had either remarried or gone to live with their sons on their steadings. She, herself, was too old for remarriage. After the birth of her last child, she knew that her days of bearing were done. Now that child was gone and she was considering what to do next. She thought of taking to the Cloister of the Goddess. The difficulty was she had a sin on her soul that she had not the means to make amends for.

One of her son's Wives walked to the garden, looking most disturbed. Widow Fletcher had no patience for this one. She was a pretty face, but an empty head. "Yes, Ally?"

"Vrisa? There's a woman asking for you!"

"Aye? Does she look far gone?" She asked, without standing up. Widow Fletcher was known as a good midwife hereabouts, One of the reasons her son hadn't been anxious for her to remarry or take to the cloisters when his father died. Even the folk nearby who weren't Kin, sometimes would ask for her. They paid well, in Queen's silver.

Ally went red "Oh no, she's not here for that! She's a Herald. She says she has a message for you and she won't leave until she delivers it.

Widow Fletcher sat back on her heels, her heart leapt into her throat, "Tell her...tell her, I'll see her in the kitchen once I've washed."

Widow Fletcher walked to the water pump, washed her hands. She was unsurprised to see them shaking. The Goddess had taken another hand in her life, it seemed. She dried her hands her black breeches that she wore to garden.

She detoured to her room long enough to change into a gown seemly for meeting visitors. A dark brown, with a high collar.

She took a deep breath to slow her racing heart, before she walked into the kitchen. A woman Herald stood there, erectly, her feet shoulder width apart, with her hands clasped behind her back. A woman, in perhaps her fifth decade, (although it was hard to tell with Heralds). Tall, with silvering dark hair.

It was not whom she had expected. Or hoped for.

"Widow Fletcher?" she nodded, "You have a son Andrean?"

Widow Fletcher's heart jumped again "Yes, is he all right?" she said sharply.

The woman smiled a little, "Yes, he's fine. I'm sorry, but I'm to deliver this message to no one other than yourself." She looked pointedly at Ally who stood behind her.

"Come to my room, Herald." Widow Fletcher turned and led the woman to it, ignoring Ally's gasp.

"What's this about, Herald?" when she had closed the door.

"My name is Herald Keren. I have brought a message from the Queen." Herald Keren produced a scroll with a seal of silver and blue wax.

"I—What?" the Widow sat down on the bed, hard. She would have accused the Herald of lying, if the proof of it wasn't before her own eyes. She'd never seen paper or sealing wax like this. She broke the seal and looked at the beautiful letters written on the thick white vellum.

She recognized the letters of her name, but little else. "Would you...Would you read it for me Herald?"

The Herald took the scroll and read:

Widow Fletcher,

We send this message to you at a sad and difficult time. The Queen's Own, Herald Talia has been very ill. Although We continue to have high hopes for her recovery, it is quite serious.

It is known to Us that you are the sister to the Queen's Own, the mother to Herald Trainee Andrean and the mother to Guardsman Erec Fletcher. We also know that there has been estrangement between you. We hope that you might find it in your heart to heal this estrangement.

We request that you make a visit to Haven. To that end, We have sent Heralds Keren, Eldan and Neave to escort you.

Please understand, this is merely a request. If you feel that this is not something that can be done, then please, tell My Heralds and We will leave you in peace.

Peace of the Goddess upon you.

By My Hand and Seal

Queen Selenay of Valdemar

Widow Fletcher sat very quietly when Keren was done. Keren had been thinking of this since Andrean had turned up at the Collegium with the letter from Vrisa. Keren had sat with Talia that evening and had heard the whole story.

She had approached Selenay with the plan days ago. They had decided not to mention it to Talia. If it came to nothing, it was better she not know.

"You realize, Herald, if I leave with you, I'm Shunned."

"Yes ma'am" Keren had spoken to Andrean about his mother, trying to learn how she was situated and what she would be giving up.

Widow Fletcher sighed and looked about her room. "I had thought to take to the Cloisters, Herald. Do they have Cloisters of the Goddess in Haven?"

"Yes."

"Did..." Widow Fletcher's voice broke, she coughed and tried again "Did Talia ask for me..?"

Keren hesitated, "She doesn't know we're here. She was very pleased to receive you letter."

"I cannot enter the Cloister with sin upon my soul. Not one that I have the means to make reparation for. I will come, say what I must. If Herald Talia does not receive it, I will have still said it." she looked at Keren "I have your word that you will take me to a Cloister when I have finished?"

"I swear as a Herald, that I will take you anywhere you wish to go." said Keren fervently.

"You will have to help me pack."