Epilogue

Kyminn hummed tunelessly as he held the carrot up the light. These were the last of last winter's crop and it would require judicious trimming to find the edible parts. Still, there would be enough to add a bit of colour to the spring salad he was preparing. The trimmings would go into the compost heap where they would return to the kitchen garden in time.

"Cellen! Would you please fetch some greens for the salad? Lettuce and such!?"

"Aye!" Cellen's cheerful bellow made Kyminn smile and he returned to his carrots.

"Hello the house!" The familiar voice deepened Kyminn's smile into a grin.

"Randen! Just in time as always. Have a seat!" Kyminn waved at the kitchen chairs.

Randen flourished the bottle of wine he was carrying as he sat down. Heralds seldom had friends outside their own Circle and Kyminn counted himself lucky that their friendship had endured for more than two decades.

"So?" Randen popped the cork and poured them both a glass. "Cydris working?" He gestured to where only three places were set at the table.

Kyminn limped over to the table. Walking had become more difficult after the incident with Jaek Jacobi, but he'd long since adapted to the change.

"No," Kyminn took a sip, eyebrows climbing at the smooth vintage. "She's visiting Renya. This pregnancy is twins and now that Ren is close to being due, she's having a hard time. Cydris went up to help mind their oldest and help out. She'll stay for the birth and a month or so afterwards."

Randen grinned. "Have you forgiven Renya yet for marrying a Bard?"

Kyminn pretended to glare. "You should know. You were at the wedding." But he relented and added, "I admit I had misgivings. My track record with Bards could use some work. But Alwin is a good man and he adores Ren. I've no complaints. Besides," the smile was warm, "They do make adorable grandbabies!"

Their joined laughter pealed through the cottage.

"Da, Herald Randen", Cellen bounced into the room, brimming with the exhausting vigour of youth. At thirteen, he was nearly as tall as his mother already. "I washed the greens. Did you want some spring onions as well?" At Kyminn's grateful nod, the youth plunked the dripping greens in front of his father and dashed back out the door.

"Ah, youth." Randen took a slow sip. "Tell me, were we ever so energetic?"

There was a distinctly equine snort from outside the kitchen window and Randen nearly choked on his wine.

"I'm willing to bet Derris just listed a few of your more energetic youthful indiscretions." Kyminn was grinning.

Randen said nothing and pretended to busy himself with cleaning up splattered wine.

Kyminn's smile faded as he watched the Herald. Last fall, Eiven had – with Randen's permission – quietly shared with Kyminn that the Healers had detected a mass in the Herald's chest. Slow growing, it was nonetheless untreatable. No one spoke of it, but all of them knew that this would, in all likelihood, mark Randen's last summer.

"Da? May I give Derris his tarts?" Cellen added the onions to the salad mix. At Kyminn's nod of permission, Cellen made a beeline for the plate of apple tarts. Kyminn had found a good use for the last of the winter apples.

Derris was more than happy to claim his share of the bounty, head reaching in through the open shutters to join the conversation.

As the three men savoured the spring salad and roast chicken, the conversation moved to more general topics. Kyminn caught Randen up on the doings of the family. Ansen was accompanying a diplomatic mission to Rethwellan while Mehret, now a Master Artificer, was working on a project to upgrade the city's aquifers. Niyeh, an indifferent student at best, instead proved to have an artistic bent. She was currently worked doing fine embellishments for dresses and dabbled in pen and ink drawings. Judging from the determined attention she was receiving from a young tailor, Kyminn fully expected they would be posting banns in the near future.

Kyminn and Cydris had insisted that Cellen take advantage of the classes available and the youngster had a solid basic education. He would never be brilliant, but he attacked his studies with the same determination and focus that marked all his endeavors. Only the fact that his intensity was paired with cheerful good humour saved him from Delassia-like eccentricity.

"…Anyway, Da says he thinks he can arrange for more equitation classes this year. If I'm going to join the cavalry, I'll need more weapons training, but we still need to find an instructor. I'd like to study under Herald Alberich, but its more important that he train the Heralds. Maybe in a few years I'll be good enough to take classes from him."

Cellen glanced from his father to Randen. "May I be excused from the table please? If you would like to visit, I can do the dishes."

"Thank you Cellen, that's thoughtful of you." Healer and Herald made their slow way to the front room while dishes clattered cheerfully in the kitchen behind them.

"He's a good lad." Randen settled into the overstuffed chair.

"He is. They're all good children. We consider ourselves very fortunate."

Randen raised a glass in salute. "Indeed. And by the way, I realize this was some time ago, but I forgot to congratulate you on your appointment. Senior Healer, Companions. Derris says the Companions approve."

"Thank Derris for me." Kyminn smiled. "Although Delassia is supposedly retired, I don't expect she'll put aside her greens any time soon. I…"

"DA! Companion coming!" Cellen's shout broke in to what Kyminn had been about to say.

"Injured?" Kyminn was already climbing to his feet.

"No, I don't think so. Let me ask…" Cellen's voice was fading as he stepped outside to greet the visitor.

Randen hadn't moved. "Kyminn."

The Healer turned and glanced at the Herald. "What does Derris…" something about his friend's face made him pause.

Slowly, Kyminn made his way through to the front door. The spring evening was just cool enough to have a faint bite, but he didn't register the sensation.

The evening sun had washed them both in gold, the boy and the Companion standing together, oblivious to everything except each other. If joy could be distilled, it was here and now, in this moment.

"His name is Lancri." Randen spoke quietly, for Kyminn's ears only. "Lorenil's last born."

"You knew?" Kyminn's voice was rougher than usual.

"No. Not until just now." A hand squeezed Kyminn's shoulder and the friends each blinked back emotion.

Past. Present. Future.