DISCLAIMER: What's mine is mine, what's not is not, if you can't figure it out from there, you have issues. Or go look at the disclaimer for chapter one. The song "Vrondi's Eyes" is property of Mercedes Lackey, and written by that selfsame person.

Chapter Five

"Lady Rondi?"

Rondi snapped out of her reverie as the servant entered. To her chagrin, she'd been thinking about that irritating and meddling Herald. "Yes? What is it?"

The servant looked very hesitant. "My lady, the maid found this in cleaning the parlor, and wondered if it was yours." He lifted up what appeared to be a white handkerchief.

Rondi took it with a sneaking suspicion. "No, but I have a feeling I know whose it is." :Sovi!:

:Yes?: The Companion's "voice" was a bit too innocent.

:Did that officious Chosen of yours leave this here?: she demanded.

:Maybe…:

Rondi rolled her eyes, and addressed the servant again. "Yes, I believe I know exactly who this belongs to. Did Mother take the carriage?"

"Yes, my lady," he replied.

"Very well, then, I shall walk. Don't worry, it isn't terribly far."

The confused servant nodded. "Very well, my lady."

She found her shoes, and, muttering obscenities that only a Companion could hear, went downstairs. She put on her cloak, not that it blocked much of the cold autumn that had settled in, and began walking toward the Palace. Like she'd said, it wasn't far. Unfortunately, getting in could be a bit more trouble. She paused just short of the palace.

Oh, yes, this is going to go well. Excuse me, Guard, but I have to return this little handkerchief to a Herald. No, really, I'm not insane. Rondi rolled her eyes. Well, she could just ask him to return it…yes, that would do well.

She pulled an elaborate-looking cloth from her purse, grateful she'd saved that pretty little scrap, and wrapped the handkerchief in that. Then she approached the Guardswoman.

"Yes?" she asked politely.

"Excuse me, but could you see this delivered to Herald Awen?" Rondi asked. "It was left at a party my father held." It was more believable than the truth. "I just wanted to—"

"Lady Elivan!" said a masculine voice as a white-clad figure came up to the gate.

Rondi resisted the urge to sigh or roll her eyes. "Good day, Herald," she said instead. I am going to get you for this.

:No, you just say that to make us feel better,: retorted his Companion. Rondi must have been broadcasting.

Awen smiled slightly, and nodded to the Guard. "This is Lady Rondi Elivan, daughter to the Guildmaster. I would like to take her to the Companion's Field, if you don't mind, Guardswoman."

"Uh, of course, Herald," she said uncertainly.

"Good." He brightened. "If you would come with me, my Lady?"

Rondi glared at him, but did so. :What is this about?:

:I have no idea, but I'm not arguing with Sovi.:

For all that she'd been Mindspeaking Companions for years, Rondi had never so much been to the Palace, much less Companion's Field. Sovi met them just across the bridge, and Awen turned to Rondi after a moment's conference with his Companion.

"She says it would be better if we rode," he explained. "Even though you are not well-clad for riding."

Rondi arched an eyebrow. "I generally wear trousers beneath my skirts, Herald, and today is no different. It may be a lot of cloth to walk with, but it's rather cold."

Awen shrugged. "Okay, then." He mounted, then offered a hand for her to mount. She ignored it, and mounted on her own. Then, they rode at a good speed toward a far corner of the Field—toward the Grove. Toward the Grove, which seemed to glimmer with a supernatural glow. Awen stopped just outside of it, but Rondi, without prompting, dismounted and went in, never taking her eyes off it. The brightness grew to an unbearable height, and Rondi clenched her eyes shut. Then, it disappeared.

A Companion mare stood before her, with eyes so very blue….

Finally she said, :Hello, vrondi-mistress. I'm Danae. And I Choose you.:

There was a moment's silence. Then…

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you, Companion?" cried Rondi.

:I don't follow you,: replied Danae.

"You are a Companion. You know what I am! You know what I'm supposed to do! How in the name of all the gods am I supposed to be a bloody Herald, too?"

:It's your own fault, you know, after the Lady heard about your song. Whatever else, She does have a sense of…irony.:

"What song?"

:"So if you deal in magic, better watch your step my friend. There's risk for you in Valdemar, which you can't comprehend. The vrondi search for magery, they are the Herald's spies. And nothing can elude their vigilant, unresting eyes." See? Your fault, Chosen.:

:Well, I was a Bard at the time! I wanted to get it around to Rethwellan, and Hardorn, and such that they couldn't get mages in here. That wasn't a damned invitation! How was I to know writing "Vrondi's Eyes" would get me this?:

"What is going on?" said the King's Own, Herald Jedin, as he came across the Field on his Companion, Rolan.

"Our newest Trainee is having a debate with her Companion, Herald," replied Awen.

"What?" exclaimed Jedin. "By the…first Lavan Chitward, and now a newly Chosen Trainee debating with her Companion! What next? What are they debating about?"

"I don't think she wants to be a Herald," he said.

"Who is the Companion, Awen?"

"Uh…Danae, Herald Jedin."

"Who? I've never heard of…." Then his expression cleared. "Oh, yes. Danae. Of course, now I remember. Is she ranked?"

"Rondi Elivan, sir," Awen said. "She's an only child, but her father's only a Guildmaster. There shouldn't be any problems."

:Any problems?: retorted Rondi. :This whole thing is a problem!:

:You might want to pretend you don't know anything about your Gifts,: he said as Jedin left. :It might start awkward questions.:

:Lovely. So I get Chosen because of a damned song, and I have to act like the incompetent brat I'm supposed to be.: Then she cut off the contact sharply, and Awen sighed. Well, he had practice with the Armsmaster soon, so he'd best get going while Rondi continued her…debate.

"Besides, now you'll have to convince all the Herald's you're not Grove-born," Rondi said after the brief interlude with Awen.

:Already done,: Danae retorted, and if she could have smirked, she would have. :Besides, you're bound to the good of Valdemar, Rondi. This is for the best of Valdemar.:

Vanyel Ashkevron, I don't know how, but this is somehow all your fault! Rondi thought helplessly. Danae snickered in her head.

:Chosen, Awen is right. Hide your knowledge, or else they'll know. For now, you'd better get your spies sorted out, because all hell will break out fairly soon.:

:Don't I know it, Danae. But that's Lavan's department.:

Danae glared at her. :We both know Lan will die before the job is done. You, my dear Chosen, are for afterward. And try not to get too wrapped up with your lifebonded.:

Rondi started. "My what?"

Her Companion just looked innocently at her.