Chapter 3
*
Leena left the "witch's" tent, still laughing. She had only gone to see what the witch would be like, and she had found it even more incredulous than she'd expected.
Chosen by a Companion? Oh, come on. That was the sort of drivel one would tell a baby - and besides, Leena didn't want to be a Herald. I want to join the guard, she thought to herself. I want to fight.
Leena wandered out of the faire. There were no more tents she wished to see, and so she wandered to the outskirts of the small town. The air in the witch's tent had been thick with incense, and Leena wanted some fresh air.
Leena leaned against a wall and stared down the empty road. She heard the sounds of two riders coming, and turned to look, wondering what they wanted - then she froze.
Not two riders, two Companions.
Leena watched in unmixed shock as they approached. Both were riderless, yet bearing elaborate silver and blue saddles. She knew, like all of Valdemar, what that meant, yet incredulity still coursed through her as the large stallion left the leggy mare - A runner and a fighter, Leena thought inanely - and approached her.
:Greetings, Leena,: The Companion's voice said into her mind. :I am Destus, and I Choose you.:
For a while, Leena stood frozen in place, shocked and thrilled. She could feel the love Destus felt for her, filling her heart and soul, but gradually she found that she could speak.
"By the Gods, the witch was right," She said dazedly. Then reality reintruded. "Why are there two of you?"
Destus whickered. It sounded oddly like a laugh. :Camber and I are friends.: He informed Leena cheerfully. :And when our Chosen were in the same area, we decided to journey together.:
"Who's her Chosen, then?" Leena asked, suspicion filling her.
Destus cocked his head, as though listening to the mare. :A girl, your age,: He replied. :Sorry; no more detail than that. If you want to wait, you could meet her.:
Leena thought that it was almost definitely the witch. True, she had not looked to be as young as Leena, but it was dark in the tent, and she probably cultivated a decrepit attitude. She wondered how the witch had known her future, and decided to ask when they met again.
"I think I can wait for Camber." Leena decided. "We can go home, tell my mother and get clothes for the journey, and meet you back here?" This last was addressed to Camber. It did not, strangely enough, seem unusual to be talking to a horse, and Camber nodded her head in reply before trotting away in the direction of the faire.
*
Cassa felt like crying. She was going mad, she knew it. Whenever a customer wanted their fortune told, as soon as she thought about it, she saw some future - sometimes likely, sometimes not. And as soon as she tried to say anything different, she described what she saw.
I really am going mad, Cassa thought. Oh, gods, what am I going to do?
Cassa did not want to see any more customers, but she knew she should. Even she had to earn her way, or leave the faire. She sat up straight on her stool, will power stiffening her spine.
Outside, a whisper laced hush filled the normally rowdy faire crowd. Frowning, Cassa stood, wondering what she had missed. As she stood, a large, white body shoved through the tent flaps - a body surmounted with a horse's head . . .
:Companion.: An amused sounding voice filled her head as she stared into the creatures blue eyes. :Companion, not horse. I am Camber, and I Choose you.:
Now Cassa was certain she was going mad. A Companion Choosing her? Not likely!
Camber took advantage of Cassa's preoccupation to completely enter the small tent. :Why shouldn't I Choose you?: She asked, her voice still faintly amused. :You have a very effective, and very useful, Gift.: She stepped forward, and nudged Cassa out of her semi-trance. :You have foresight; you have seen the future in your head,: She continued. :This gift must be trained. Now, get what you need, say your good-byes, and come with me.:
Cassa felt a wash of relief temporarily drown out the helpless love she felt for the Companion - her Companion - and gladly pulled her pack from its position under the table.
"I can't ride in this costume," Cassa muttered, and pulled the traveling clothes out of her pack.
Quickly she dressed, pulling black dyed hair into her usual, business like tail and wiping her face clean of makeup before carefully fastening the pack behind Camber's saddle.
Mitt jumped on the table, and looked curiously at the Companion. Camber leaned forward until their noses touched.
:Hello,: She Said softly. Mitt rubbed her cheek against Camber's nose and purred loudly. :Who's this?: The Companion asked Cassa curiously.
"This is my pet, Mitt." Cassa sighed as she stroked the cat. "I'll miss her; I wish I could take her with me. I bet the council thinks she can live off her hunting; they won't feed her or look after her . . ."
:Why don't you bring her with us?: came Camber's surprising answer. :The Colegium can certainly spare enough food for her, and I bet all the Heralds would adopt her readily enough.: The Companion nuzzled Mitt, who purred even harder. :Besides, I like her.:
Cassa smiled radiantly. She lifted the cat onto Camber's neck, just before the saddle. Mitt did not even hang on with her claws. Cassa decided that during a gallop, she could hold the cat within her cloak.
That done, she awkwardly mounted, ducking so as not to hit the tent's cloth ceiling. "I need to say good bye to Mother," She told Camber. "Could you go by the dancing tent?"
Camber gave a soft, agreeable snort and walked from the tent.
The first thing Cassa noticed was the crowd. They gathered around, all staring, jabbering away to each other. One little girl shrieked, "Look, Mama, it's a carnival Herald!"
Cassa winced. :Chosen?: Camber sounded confused. :Chosen, what's wrong?:
Cassa tried to stage her reply in the silent mindspeech. :It's - the crowds,: She admitted sheepishly. :I get stagefright when people stare at me.:
Camber didn't laugh, but Cassa caught the echo of faint amusement down the bond between them. Strangely enough, it didn't anger her like it normally would; it was akin to the gentle teasing of a very good friend.
Camber stopped outside the dance tent. Cassa could see not just her mother, but the entire Faire council waiting for her.
"Congratulations, sweetheart," Ceara smiled at her despite teary eyes.
"Yes, congratulations, young Cassa," affirmed Jeralt. He was, nominally at least, the leader of the faire council. He took care of the money as well as being one of the finest bakers Cassa had ever seen. "And as a congratulation, Sunset Faire wishes to give you this." He held out a leather purse to her. Cassa's throat closed in gratitude. Sunset faire was not well off - this was the most hard won of gifts she could have received.
:The Colegium has holidays,: Camber informed her gently. :You can come back to the faire for them,: A mental grin came with her next words. :You could even do a bit of witchery on the side!:
Cassa gave a weak laugh, and relayed the Companion's words. Ceara smiled and Jeralt chuckled, clapping her on the back as Camber turned to ride away.
"Good bye, youngling," He said gruffly. "And good luck."
*
Leena left the "witch's" tent, still laughing. She had only gone to see what the witch would be like, and she had found it even more incredulous than she'd expected.
Chosen by a Companion? Oh, come on. That was the sort of drivel one would tell a baby - and besides, Leena didn't want to be a Herald. I want to join the guard, she thought to herself. I want to fight.
Leena wandered out of the faire. There were no more tents she wished to see, and so she wandered to the outskirts of the small town. The air in the witch's tent had been thick with incense, and Leena wanted some fresh air.
Leena leaned against a wall and stared down the empty road. She heard the sounds of two riders coming, and turned to look, wondering what they wanted - then she froze.
Not two riders, two Companions.
Leena watched in unmixed shock as they approached. Both were riderless, yet bearing elaborate silver and blue saddles. She knew, like all of Valdemar, what that meant, yet incredulity still coursed through her as the large stallion left the leggy mare - A runner and a fighter, Leena thought inanely - and approached her.
:Greetings, Leena,: The Companion's voice said into her mind. :I am Destus, and I Choose you.:
For a while, Leena stood frozen in place, shocked and thrilled. She could feel the love Destus felt for her, filling her heart and soul, but gradually she found that she could speak.
"By the Gods, the witch was right," She said dazedly. Then reality reintruded. "Why are there two of you?"
Destus whickered. It sounded oddly like a laugh. :Camber and I are friends.: He informed Leena cheerfully. :And when our Chosen were in the same area, we decided to journey together.:
"Who's her Chosen, then?" Leena asked, suspicion filling her.
Destus cocked his head, as though listening to the mare. :A girl, your age,: He replied. :Sorry; no more detail than that. If you want to wait, you could meet her.:
Leena thought that it was almost definitely the witch. True, she had not looked to be as young as Leena, but it was dark in the tent, and she probably cultivated a decrepit attitude. She wondered how the witch had known her future, and decided to ask when they met again.
"I think I can wait for Camber." Leena decided. "We can go home, tell my mother and get clothes for the journey, and meet you back here?" This last was addressed to Camber. It did not, strangely enough, seem unusual to be talking to a horse, and Camber nodded her head in reply before trotting away in the direction of the faire.
*
Cassa felt like crying. She was going mad, she knew it. Whenever a customer wanted their fortune told, as soon as she thought about it, she saw some future - sometimes likely, sometimes not. And as soon as she tried to say anything different, she described what she saw.
I really am going mad, Cassa thought. Oh, gods, what am I going to do?
Cassa did not want to see any more customers, but she knew she should. Even she had to earn her way, or leave the faire. She sat up straight on her stool, will power stiffening her spine.
Outside, a whisper laced hush filled the normally rowdy faire crowd. Frowning, Cassa stood, wondering what she had missed. As she stood, a large, white body shoved through the tent flaps - a body surmounted with a horse's head . . .
:Companion.: An amused sounding voice filled her head as she stared into the creatures blue eyes. :Companion, not horse. I am Camber, and I Choose you.:
Now Cassa was certain she was going mad. A Companion Choosing her? Not likely!
Camber took advantage of Cassa's preoccupation to completely enter the small tent. :Why shouldn't I Choose you?: She asked, her voice still faintly amused. :You have a very effective, and very useful, Gift.: She stepped forward, and nudged Cassa out of her semi-trance. :You have foresight; you have seen the future in your head,: She continued. :This gift must be trained. Now, get what you need, say your good-byes, and come with me.:
Cassa felt a wash of relief temporarily drown out the helpless love she felt for the Companion - her Companion - and gladly pulled her pack from its position under the table.
"I can't ride in this costume," Cassa muttered, and pulled the traveling clothes out of her pack.
Quickly she dressed, pulling black dyed hair into her usual, business like tail and wiping her face clean of makeup before carefully fastening the pack behind Camber's saddle.
Mitt jumped on the table, and looked curiously at the Companion. Camber leaned forward until their noses touched.
:Hello,: She Said softly. Mitt rubbed her cheek against Camber's nose and purred loudly. :Who's this?: The Companion asked Cassa curiously.
"This is my pet, Mitt." Cassa sighed as she stroked the cat. "I'll miss her; I wish I could take her with me. I bet the council thinks she can live off her hunting; they won't feed her or look after her . . ."
:Why don't you bring her with us?: came Camber's surprising answer. :The Colegium can certainly spare enough food for her, and I bet all the Heralds would adopt her readily enough.: The Companion nuzzled Mitt, who purred even harder. :Besides, I like her.:
Cassa smiled radiantly. She lifted the cat onto Camber's neck, just before the saddle. Mitt did not even hang on with her claws. Cassa decided that during a gallop, she could hold the cat within her cloak.
That done, she awkwardly mounted, ducking so as not to hit the tent's cloth ceiling. "I need to say good bye to Mother," She told Camber. "Could you go by the dancing tent?"
Camber gave a soft, agreeable snort and walked from the tent.
The first thing Cassa noticed was the crowd. They gathered around, all staring, jabbering away to each other. One little girl shrieked, "Look, Mama, it's a carnival Herald!"
Cassa winced. :Chosen?: Camber sounded confused. :Chosen, what's wrong?:
Cassa tried to stage her reply in the silent mindspeech. :It's - the crowds,: She admitted sheepishly. :I get stagefright when people stare at me.:
Camber didn't laugh, but Cassa caught the echo of faint amusement down the bond between them. Strangely enough, it didn't anger her like it normally would; it was akin to the gentle teasing of a very good friend.
Camber stopped outside the dance tent. Cassa could see not just her mother, but the entire Faire council waiting for her.
"Congratulations, sweetheart," Ceara smiled at her despite teary eyes.
"Yes, congratulations, young Cassa," affirmed Jeralt. He was, nominally at least, the leader of the faire council. He took care of the money as well as being one of the finest bakers Cassa had ever seen. "And as a congratulation, Sunset Faire wishes to give you this." He held out a leather purse to her. Cassa's throat closed in gratitude. Sunset faire was not well off - this was the most hard won of gifts she could have received.
:The Colegium has holidays,: Camber informed her gently. :You can come back to the faire for them,: A mental grin came with her next words. :You could even do a bit of witchery on the side!:
Cassa gave a weak laugh, and relayed the Companion's words. Ceara smiled and Jeralt chuckled, clapping her on the back as Camber turned to ride away.
"Good bye, youngling," He said gruffly. "And good luck."