Chapter 37: Annoyance
Companion Steffen sighed as he wondered aimlessly through Companion's Field. He hated to admit it but he was lonely, despite being surrounded by other Companions. He couldn't help wondering what Vanyel was up to. He'd been feeling brief flashes of emotion from Vanyel lately; he just hoped his lifebonded's Chosen was okay.
He shook his head trying to clear away the odd buzzing feeling as he made his way towards the palace gardens. What would it feel like to have a Chosen? Vanyel, he felt, had more of an advantage in that department then he did simply because the man had once been a Herald. While it was true that he had once been Herald trainee T'lindel, he had died before he'd even earned his whites. The boy had taken his own life after being reputed.
It was hard for him to handle sometimes.
He had to admit that after death, once he'd regained his memories of being T'lindel he'd found seeing Vanyel with his Companion Y'fandes very hard to handle.
The nature of the Companion-Herald bond was one of unconditional love. As T'lindal he'd so badly violated everything that being a Herald stood for that his own beloved Companion, Gala had reputed him – severing the bond between them.
Yet Vanyel in a moment of pain that had – however briefly – stripped him of his sanity had crossed that same line of revenge just as badly as T'lindal had. However Y'fandes hadn't reputed her chosen – she'd stood by him and helped him to recover. He'd often wondered why Gala hadn't supported him the same way 'Fandes had supported Vanyel.
It had taken him nearly 35 years, and a lot of help for both Vanyel and Y'fandes, to come to terms with things.
He sighed and resolved never to make the same mistakes Gala had made with his Chosen. If she had only seen how badly his twin's death had affected him, if she'd only realized he'd become obsessed with his need to avenge the systematic murder of his entire family. If she'd only helped him to come to terms with what had happened rather than leaving him to handle it on his own…
'If only…'
There were too many of them to count, too many different possible outcomes for even a foreseer to predict.
He was so caught up in his thoughts of the past that he failed to realize his hooves had carried him past the palace gates and into the surrounding city.
Without even realizing it he had turned to follow that odd buzzing in his very soul.
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Mel Sighed and suppressed the urge to cry. He sat alone in a small park in the city about an hour's walk from his home and he had hoped to avoid being seen by his family. It had been a long, hard and cold couple of nights. His father couldn't know he'd even had an interview with the head of Bardic. If Andrew ever found out and he wasn't safely tucked away under the watchful eyes of master Bards – well – his father would make every beating he'd ever endured up to this point seem like nothing.
He groaned and buried his face in his hands; it had been nearly five days since Bard Anika had given them their assignment. When she'd told them to choose a historical figure to write a song about, he'd swiftly chosen the most famous Herald in all of Valdemarian history – Herald Mage Vanyel. He'd figured there had to be enough information on the man in all the songs and ballads made about him for one desperate boy to put a song to music. But then Anika had handed out the last portion of their assignment. They were to be granted access to the palace student library for three days, during which time they needed to collect as much information on their historical figure as possible. After that they would have one week to compose a song about their historical figure to match the music.
It seemed so simple.
The only catch was that the song had to include a few little known facts about the person in question.
To make matters worse, when Bard Anika had tested them for the Bardic gift, she'd played a well know piece for them and then had them pick a ballad or song to play. For their assignment however she'd simply handed them each a sheet of music.
Problem was he couldn't read sheet music.
Hell he couldn't even read!
Andrew had seen to that, while his brothers had been enjoying the law that saw them going to the nearest temple for breakfast and instruction in reading, writing and figuring, he'd been locked in his room, or toiling in the kitchen of the little tavern Andrew owned. The man had been convinced since his birth that he was not his son. No matter how much his mother had argued and even pleaded that he simply looked like his grandmother. He'd still kept him from an education out of spite.
Now his father's spite had cost him dearly.
He couldn't read the sheet music and he most certainly couldn't read the many books in the library.
He was doomed.
He'd spent the three days in the library pretending to read the chronicles and hoping he'd find a picture or something, anything he could read that would inspire him. Predictably he'd found nothing!
Now he was sitting out here in the cold, shivering and hoping against hope that his long dead ancestor would pop up and tell him something about his life that wasn't already common knowledge.
Yah like that would ever happen!
Closing his eyes he bowed his head and suppressed tears of frustration.
The soft sound of chiming bells broke the tranquil stillness of the afternoon, but he was too lost in his own misery to look for the source of the bells.
That until someone spoke.
:Child what is wrong?:
The voice was masculine but oddly musical and colored with concern. For a moment he was too stunned to reply, particularly when he realized the voice was only in his head.
Was he going mad?
Lifting his head he gasped.
Standing in front of him was one of Valdemar's fabled Companions. He'd seen a few horses in his time, and he'd even seen a few Companions in passing over the years, but nothing compared to the sight of one up close.
The stallion's coat was such a beautifully iridescent shade of white that he seemed to glow with an inner light. Hellfires he made the snow look dirty!
He reached out one hand to touch the creature, but stopped. He was filthy, just an uneducated child from the lower district – what right did he have to touch such a creature?
To his utter astonishment the stallion lifted his head and touched his palm with the tip of his velvety nose.
: Won't you tell me what's wrong little one? I may not yet have a Chosen of my own but I may still be able to help you. At least may I have the honor of your name? :
Mel blinked, he supposed it would be far too much to hope for, but he'd kind of hoped the appearance of a Companion would mean the end of his pain and loneliness. However if he couldn't have the Heraldic Dream, he would settle for being one of the few who could say they'd had a conversation with a Companion. "I'm Mel," he said after a moment.
: It is a pleasure to meet you Mel, I am Steffen. Will you please tell me what is wrong?: Steffen replied.
So Mel told him starting slowly and ending in a rush.
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Steffen shifted from hoof to hoof as he listened to the boy's story. : Vanyel, you chose Vanyel?: He asked in mild amusement. He couldn't wait to tease Van about this. Even more then 500 years after the fact he couldn't escape his fame – it was damned amusing. However at least here he could help the child.
"Well it seemed like a good idea until she gave us the second part of the assignment." Mel replied somewhat defensively.
: It was a good idea,: Steffen replied mildly, still considering involving himself. After a moment he puffed out his sides in a horse's sigh. : I happen to know a lot about Herald Vanyel, perhaps I can be of assistance, but first I want to get a look at that music. The light is failing though. You said you can't go home, do you have somewhere to stay?:
The boy shook his head.
Steffen sighed, he couldn't leave the child out here, it was snowing, not heavily yet, and the fall had been light in this part of Valdemar for the past week, but still a storm was coming – he could not leave the child out here. However the boy wasn't his Chosen.
Oh well, he was a Companion, and if he wanted to he could share his warm stall with a child.
: I do not Choose you,: he said kindly,: however, I would be grateful for your company. My friends are currently on circuit with their chosen or out on search. Come on, I would be happy to offer you someplace warm to wait for your test. I would also be happy to help you pass.:
Mel gaped at him, "do you know how to read sheet music?"
:I do.:
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Steffen glanced down at the boy sleeping in the warm hay that lined his stall; Mel was curled up in a small ball, wrapped in his threadbare cloak. Steffen walked as quietly as possible over to the stable doors and snorted, the doors where closed against the cold winter wind with only a smaller servants door left unlatched. The door had been rigged so that they - The Companions of Valdemar - could let themselves in and out of the stables on nights like this one.
When the snow came down hard, heavy and bone-chillingly cold.
Deftly he pulled the string that opened the door and stepped outside. He had to use the privy. He was glad he'd somehow found himself in the park that afternoon. He didn't think the small child asleep in his stall would have survived the night left to his own devices.
It was a miracle he'd survived the last two.
The odd buzzing in his head returned the further he got from the boy. He shook his head and ignored the odd sensation.
Something about the boy confused him, he felt very familiar. He recognized the boy's lute; it had once belonged to his old roommate bard Medren. He would have recognized it even if it hadn't been in very much the same condition it had been in when he'd first meet the other bard. He knew that it had been a gift from Van. Just as he knew Van had bewitched it centuries ago.
He couldn't help wondering if maybe this child, Melody, was the reincarnation of his old friend. It would certainly explain the odd way the lute seemed to resonate with the boy.
A resonance that apparently hadn't been present when Mel had played for Master Bard Anika, using one of the Collegiums' lutes.
Steffen sighed as he let himself back into the warmth of the stove heated stables and made his way back to his stall. He'd spent the better part of the day working with Mel. It had only taken him a moment to recognize the music Bard Anika had assigned. It was one from his own time, and one he knew well. However it was not a song that Mel was familiar with so it had taken the better part of the day to teach him the fingering.
Particularly since he didn't have hands to demonstrate with
Tomorrow he would spend some time telling the boy tails of Herald-mage Vanyel.
This was going to be fun.
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Yozak glared at his mentor. They'd been snowed into this waystation for two weeks now and Koran just didn't know when to shut up. He was not lifebonded to Conrart damn it. Conrart was a prince, he deserved so much better then he could ever give him. Suppressing the urge to growl, he looked over at the other man, and sighed.
"Koran," he said softly. "Let it go. I'm not lifebonded to my best friend. I love him I'll give you that, but there is no way we can be lifebonded. It wouldn't be fair or right for Conrart."
He held up a hand for silence when Koran would have interrupted him there.
"Conrart was born into one of the richest, most powerful families in Shin Makoku, and his father – despite everything the Balar line has done to be rid of the Weller line, was a strong man. A good man, who took what little land he held and made it prosper. Conrart is the lord of the most fruitful wine land in the entirety of our world. He was the Captain of our king's personal guard before he was chosen. I- Koran, I'm nothing." He said, and then added. "Honestly I don't even have the right to approach him with an attempt at courtship. Do you have any idea how much of an insult it would be to Conrart and Conrart's family if a mere peasant soldier was to make a bid for Conrart's hand? Conrart would be nice about it, but his uncle, his uncle would kill me! And then he'd likely accuse Conrart of disgracing his mother's family."
Koren sighed, "You are, neither of you, still in Shin Makoku. You are both Heralds. Follow your heart Yozak. Ask him if he feels the same for you. At least admit your feelings. It will make you feel better and will unburden your soul."
Yozak snorted, he was through being nice. "Don't you think you are being hypocritical Koran? Or do you honestly think I didn't see how you looked at that young man?"
Koren blinked and raised an eyebrow. "Just what are you talking about?" he asked sharply.
"Kero's cousin." Yozak retorted. "You're head over heels for that young man."
"I think cabin fever has finally driven you mad." Koran retorted.
Yozak smirked, looks like it's time for some ice cream.
: Ice cream Chosen?: Jissa inquired.
: It's an earth confection King Yurri brought back to Shin Makoku in a tub of ice.: he replied
:?:
: if vengeance is sweet, revenge is a dish best served cold, and payback's a bitch, then logic dictates that reprisal is in fact Ice Cream.: he replied mildly.
: How do you figure?: she asked after a pause that clearly meant she was questioning his sanity.
He shot her a smile. : Ice cream is sweet, best served cold, and has a side effect when eaten to fast called a brain freeze, which is a bitch. :
Jissa snorted and decided that this must be one of the many figures of speech her chosen had that she just didn't get.
Yozak's smirk however did not bode well for Koren's sanity.
: It's time for Koren to realize he's shaych.: Yozak told her flippantly.
: Just try not to give the man a nervous breakdown, Chosen.: She replied at last.
Yozak gave her a mock salute.
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Koren glared at Herald Yozak's back as the man rode down the road ahead of him. The last two weeks of their month long incarceration inside that little waystation with only six bats, and his Mandy to provide distraction from the other man's observations on his nonexistent love life, and his crush on Kero's cousin had been hell. The worst part was that the other man was right.
Not that he was going to admit to that.
But oh it would be so nice to be able to admit his feelings to Kre'esha.
There was nothing wrong with him, he knew that, but he couldn't help wondering what his father would say if the man ever found out he preferred men to women.
: He'd probably say you were possessed Chosen, in addition to cursed.: Mandy told him gently. : And he would still be a bigoted idiot who couldn't tell his crest from his rump. Pay no heed to what that mo – man would think of you my Chosen. :
Koren smiled and leaned forward to press his face into the mare's mane. : Thank you lovely.:
: Tell Kre'esha how you feel Chosen, at the very least you would have gotten it out in the open.:
He sighed, "Maybe you're right." He said aloud, and then leaning sideways out of his saddle, he scooped up a handful of snow, packed it into a loose missile and lobbed it at Herald Yozak.
Thus starting the epic snow battle.
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It was just a week till Sovven, `and the nights were turning chill
And the battle turned to stalemate, double-bluff, and feint or drill
When a shadow drifted northward, just a shadow, nothing more.
No one noticed that the shadows all grew darker than before.
No one noticed, while the shadows seemed to creep into the heart
But from then the quest for freedom seemed a fool's quest from the start.
Vanyel snorted in annoyance as he followed his musically aggravating Chosen across the vale, while the boy sung Shadow Stalker, at the top of his admittedly beautiful voice. He'd spent the better part of the last two days trying to convince Conrart to open up to Holly about what had happened on his 85th birthday and the boy was being obstinate about it.
Hence the current somewhat amusing rendition of the old ballad that told the tail of how he'd earned the name Shadow Stalker. Conrart had started with Demonbane and was working his way through every annoying ballot ever written about him that he could remember.
:Chosen.: he said sharply trying to get the man to stop. : That is really getting annoying,:
Conrart stopped singing so he pressed on. : You really need to talk to someone Chosen, you need help –:
Herald Vanyel came upon them and he sensed a subtle wrong,
And there was some magic working, deeply hidden, yes, but strong.
And it moved and worked in secret like a poison in the vein.
Like a poison meant to weaken, this was magic meant to drain.
Herald Vanyel saw the shadows and they turned their wiles on him
Vanyel snorted, Alright that was enough!
:Chosen, would you care to remind me why I put up with you? : Vanyel asked sharply, he was joking – mostly.
Conrart jerked as if he'd been slapped, then cocked a hip. "Because I'm the only one who would preen you peacock!" he retorted sharply.
Vanyel made an undignified noise his ears cocking forward almost comically – then with a sharp toss of his head he shoved his chosen into the nearest hot water spring. He snorted and turned his head away in a manner reminiscent of an offended lady, as his chosen – sputtering – surfaced from under the water.
The jet of icy water – that should have been warm at lest – startled him to the point that he bolted forward like a surprised horse.
: Damned demon water fountain!: he said sharply.
Conrart climbed out of the spring with far more dignity then should have been possible given his current resemblance to a sopping wet cat, and replied calmly "good luck brushing yourself out – peacock."
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Vanyel leaned into each stroke of the curry comb as Conrart – now dry – brushed him until he shown like creature of pure moon light. He sighed and nuzzled the man's arm.
:I love you, Chosen.: he said gently, : and I really do think you should talk to somebody about what happened. There is only so much I can do to help you. I am a Companion, not a human or a demon. If you will not talk to Holly, why not talk to Yozak?:
Conrart sighed and leaned into him hiding his face in Vanyel's mane. "I can't, he'll hate me."
Vanyel sighed and nuzzled the boy; he just wasn't ready to face the truth of the past. : Alright Chosen, but don't forget – any of the Heralds would willingly give you an ear to listen or a shoulder to lean on if you where to ask for it.:
: I won't forget Van, but it is not something I can talk about.: Conrart replied. : If my uncle ever found out – well let's just say it wouldn't be pleasant.:
Vanyel took in the images that rolled across their mental link, in silent horror. No wonder the boy refused to talk about what had happened – if he thought that was the consequence of his asking for help – well Van didn't blame him for keeping his mouth shut.
What made it even more horrifying was that Conrart, he was sure, hadn't even realized what he'd just let him see. He could feel the boy trembling beside him.
: I'm here my Chosen, and no one is going to take you away from me.:
His mane was soaked for the second time today – this time by tears.
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A.N.
Hi sorry about the long wait, school started, I had to move, and start a new job and then we had no internet. Anyway school is back so this might take a bit longer to update. But the good news is I am back with my fellow authors so this should start coming out a little more quickly… bad news is we're all science majors so… you get the idea. Anywho Conrad and Yozak should be back together soon.
Sambi Note:
Stop steeling all my sayings! The ice cream is mine!
Werewolf:
Then stop getting them stuck in my head, you stupid cat.
Werecat:
That's not exactly easy considering things get stuck in your head after hearing them ONCE.
Werewolf:
It's not my fault my mind is a steel trap for useless information.
Werecat:
Invest in WD40 you dumb dog.
Werewolf:
I hate you. And how exactly is that supposed to help? It's not a literal trap.
Werecat:
Love you too. Figure it out, 'cause as every college student knows all problems can be fixed with either WD40 or Duct Tape.
Werewolf:
I am not a broken part. And the chocolate is mine so stay out of it.
Werecat:
…whatever I don't like your chocolate anyways, it has nuts. And I didn't say you were broken, just stuck.
Werewolf:
o.0