Ista's Journey

Chapter 3

Political Dancing and Heraldic Doldrums

Joska's Note: Hey hey. I got this done fast.

Please review this. I like knowing people like my stuff. Just please don't comment on you thinking my characters suck. They're all mine…sort of. None of these have ever been seen before, not in their adulthood. Merili and Theodren both appear as children. A cookie to the first reviewer who can tell me Theodren's companions name. It IS in one of the books, I assure you.

However, if you LOVE my characters, tell me. I'll love you forever!


Ista paced back and forth across her room, wondering what to do. Dinner was over, she had had her ride, and now she needed to go. She had a meeting with the king and the queen, and a performance and she was not dressed for it.

Ista threw up her hands and swore before rushing into the water closet. Ista was lucky. When the Palace was set up next to the Bardic hall, there were a few rooms that were made for palatial guests, but left for bards. Ista won one of them in a bad song contest. She sang the most horrific version of an old song called 'The ride', but mixed it with another song she found that was titled 'Sword lady'. And she sang them badly out of tune. And kept forgetting the words. And repeating verses. An hour later, Ista was the proud occupant of one of the finest Bardic rooms.

Ista stripped to the skin and ducked underneath the sprayed before pulling the chain. A drizzle of hot water, warmed from the boiler, fell onto her. She wet her hair, and then reached for the hair soap she kept by her shower. It smelled of cocoa flowers, and made her long, unruly hair behave. To Ista, it was Sunlord sent.

After a through washing, Ista pulled on a robe and walked over to the door. She sighed and stepped out.

"Milady!" toned the nearest servant, a girl named Milly, "What do you need."

"Milly," sighed Ista, happy she'd found one of the less butterfly-brained servants, "What do you know about hair arrangement?"

"I know the basics," said Milly, rather unsure of herself.

"I need to look presentable at court," said Ista, "And Genyi seems to be off in her own world. Come, help me."

"Yes milady," said Milly, hurrying into the room, gazing around at the plush room.

"Now," said Ista, "First things first. Genyi seems to have not left me a dress. I need to choose something. I don't know colour, and I can't be showing up in a giant bright pink frock. I can tell you if I like the dress by touch, but the colours are all mixed up for me."

"How about this one!" said Milly, pulling out a lovely grey dress.

"That's so helpful," said Ista, trying to sound sarcastic, but succeeding in only sounded amused. Milly shook her head.

"Sorry. It's a lacy grey dress."

"No. I know the one. That's for formal meetings. This is a performance dress. No extra petticoats. Simple."

"I have a black one," said Milly.

"Lacy?"

"Very."

"No. Too formal."

"Red velvet?"

"No. That's a midwinter dress."

"Black and green corset dress…oh wait it has no sleeves," said Milly.

"No! Wait. I remember that one. There should be some sort of frilly matching sleeve thing in my drawer. Fourth from the right, top dresser!" snapped Ista, with excitement.

"Here it is," shouted Milly, her voice excited, "I found the sleeves!"
"Okay," said Ista, "Now do you do corsets?"

"No," said Milly, "But my brother Hendrix does. He's just down the hall. Get into the dress and he can tie it up in the back."

"Okay," said Ista, taking the dress from Milly and listening for her to close the door. Ista dropped her robe and stepped into the simple dress. It was nothing but a corset with some draped fabric, but Ista loved it. Genyi thought it was a little too provocative, and often hid it from Ista.

Ista pulled the dress up to her collarbone and waited. She felt so silly, being dressed by other people. But a little voice in her head reminded her that she was not the only one to be dressed by others. Queen Merili could not dress herself. In this case Ista had chosen all her clothes by herself.

"Ho, lady Ista," said a young male voice, "My sister has gone to fetch some ribbon. You need my help?"

"Thank you," said Ista, her voice warm and full of gratitude.

"Anything for the kind lady," said the young man, "I'm Hendrix, or Hendy."

"Hendy," said Ista, "You're Navel's and Eli's son."

"I am!" said Hendy, elated that someone as high ranking as Ista knew his family.

"So, please tie me into this horrible contraption," said Ista, grabbing onto the bedpost. Hendy entered, his feet padding softy on the plush carpet. He reached for the strings and stopped.

"You don't mind me doing this?" he said.

"No," said Ista, "Anyone who CAN do this for me deserves major praise."
"I have six sisters," said Hendy, "Five of which need corsets. I know how to do this."

"My thanks," sighed Ista as she listened to Milly return and climb up onto the bed. She reached out and grabbed Ista's wet hair and began to braid it tightly.

"I got some green ribbon from the princess's room," said Milly, "None of them are wearing green, so I figured that you could use it. Just leave it on your doorknob after and I'll see to it tha it gets back to their little armoire."

"You two are too kind," said Ista. Ista always felt more at home with the help than the nobles. Their quiet dignity was something she wished she could afford. It would be wonderful for Ista to actually be able to braid and do her own hair, rather than play some complex sonata.

"There," said Hendy, tying the corset strings tightly. Ista was very impressed. She could breath, but her silhouette felt slim and curvy.

"You wait outside for a few minutes," said Ista, smiling as Milly fussed with her unruly hair.

"There," said Milly, "It's up in a poof on the back of your head, you look like you spent hours trying to get the mussed up look, instead of minutes trying to get the not mussed up look."

"Again, my thanks," said Ista, getting up and walking back to her dresser. She reached into one of the drawers and pulled out eight gold coins. She pressed four of them in Milly's left hand and the other four into her other.

"My lady?"

"For good service. Now you and Hendy go buy dinner for your whole family. Rabbit pies sounds good, doesn't it. Mention my name at the Bakery, and it'll be yours."

"But…but they all said you're a battleaxe," blurted Milly, "You're not this nice."

"Let me tell you something," replied Ista, pulling her sleeves on, "All those who call me a battleaxe are those I teach. I'm a hellion of a teacher, and even worse of an enemy. But you, you don't have delusions of grandeur, nor do you give me any less respect than any other person, servant or otherwise. I appreciate it. Now, go eat."

"Yes ma'am," said Milly, scampering out the door.

Ista walked back over to her closet and pulled out her shoebox. She felt around in it until she found the shoes that went with the dress. Wooden sandals that laced up her leg in some kind of ribbon. Ista pulled them on, and then walked to her door. From the barrel by her doorframe, Ista felt around the canes. She chose a rather elaborately carved cane that had a leaf motif. It went with green, and Ista knew the dress was black and green, in some order.

With a flurry of motion, Ista said a quick prayer to the Sunlord, opened her door, and began the short walk to the Reception chamber of the Royal Palace.

Five minutes later, Genyi burst into the room, Rhian on her heels. She was frantic. She left Rhian in Ista's room and ran off to make sure that Ista didn't look like she'd just escape from an explosion in a dye shop.


King Albayah had reigned in Jkatha for almost 20 years. He and his wife, the Queen Merili, were some of the best loved monarchs in the history. Their policies had always been fair, if not well liked. No one ever liked higher taxes, or cuts to programs, but sometimes that had to be done.

Jkatha was a well liked country. It shared borders with Seejay, Ruvan. Velar and Rethwellan. For years it had managed to avoid all sorts of conflicts, save the internal ones that tend to come with dynastic rule. Albayah accepted that and tried to rule Jkatha with an even mind. Some called him evil, but that was only because he tended to not always side with what was thought to be 'the greater good'.

Albayah was a forward thinker, and put a great deal of money into trying to make Jkatha a small and extremely profitable nation. One of his mages thought he might have found a way to construct semi-permanent gates, but that was blood magic, and not to be pursued. It did, however, lead to a new source of magic rising from the earth.

It was that power that lead Albayah to realise he needed more allies. And first on his list was the northern country of Valdemar.

As Albayah sat in the throne room of the high throne tower, his wife Merili at his side, the heralds sent from Valdemar approached him. He knew all about them, even before their arrival. And he knew they needed something. It was nice having the innkeepers like the monarchy. A small lowering of taxes for the inns, and the innkeepers, tavern owners and bartenders were more than happy to spill their guts.

The oldest man was a herald named Theodren, an old man with patience in droves. The silver haired Herald was tired from his ride, but kindly. The female was a hot-headed herald-mage named Tyga, who had little patience for stupidity. And the younger male was just some average young Herald named Heath. The three needed his help, and came right from the queen. It was an interesting turn of events.

"Good day to thee, Majesties," said Herald Theodren, his voice warm and inviting. Merili smiling, knowing full well that the herald was trying to use some odd form the Bardic gift to help insinuate himself into the realm of 'People good for Jkatha.'

"Good day to you, Heralds," said Albayah, "Heralds of Valdemar are always welcome in Jkatha."

"We come seeking aid," said Tyga, "Our Queen has sent us to procure your aid."

"Well, you'll have to wait," said Albayah, "Royal requests aren't accepted until the open address in two days."

"This is of most urgency," said Heath.

"How urgent," asked Merili.

"It's a diplomatic problem with Seejay," sighed Theodren, "And since none of our other allies are on good terms with Seejay, we need your help to fix our little problem."

"And make enemies with Seejay?" asked Albayah, "Are you MAD?"

"Some of us sir, but none of the heralds present," piped Tyga.

"We're not asking for anything military. We just want someone else on our side. A representative of this kingdom. Someone who sees both Valdemar and Seejay's side of the story."

"I don't…" said Albayah.

"Al," said Merili, "Let me handle this matter. I'll make it all happen."

"Fine," said king Albayah, rolling his eyes. Anyone else would be reprimanded, but Merili was a skilled diplomat, and not to mention she was the king's life bonded.
"So you'll help?" asked Theodren.

"I have someone who might be able to help," said the queen, with a nod, "Now; Erich will see you to your quarters. Be ready to head to Seejay in, oh, two weeks?"
"Two weeks!" ranted Tyga, "In two weeks, Jemmie could be DEAD."

"I'll send a letter to the queen there," said Merili, "Tell her we're sending her someone."

"If you don't mind me asking, who are you sending?" asked Theodren.

"I do mind you asking," said the Queen, "Now, I have a private audience. And she's more important than you."

: What a snot: said Pica, Tyga's companion.

"You and your companions will be well cared for, but I cannot be expected to find you someone in a week. It might be before two weeks. You heralds seem good at being ready to go in an instant," droned Merili.

"Thank you," said Theodren, bowing. Tyga and Heath followed suit, knowing that Theodren was the king of courtly manners. As they stared at the floor, waiting for Theodren to rise, the door to the hall was flung open. As odd tapping sound filled the hall, as did some rather hurried footsteps.

"Ah!" said the king, "Ista. You've arrived. Allow me to introduce you to our guests."

"Oh your majesty," replied the voice the Heralds assumed was Ista, "I did not know you had guests. I should not have been so hasty."

"We told the footman to send you in," said the queen, "Rise, good heralds, and meet one of our finest."

Theodren was the first to rise, and he quickly found himself face to face with a rather delicate looking court flower. Tyga sent a mental image of the girl fainting, and Heath tried not to laugh. They all knew Ista's supposed type. A butterfly-brained court flower. And though the heralds respected them, they were still silly little girls.

"Enchanted to meet you," said Ista, curtseying with grace.

Theodren gave the young woman a look over. Ista was not a tall woman, but she had a statuesque nature to her. She was not thin or willowy, but neither was she huge. She looked like the average commoner done up in elaborate dresses. Her hair was a deep mahogany and shone like polished wood on top of her head. Her eyes were large, round and a deeper brown than her hair, on the verge of being black. She stared off into space, and it appeared like she was trying to look disinterested.

"The pleasure is mine, my lady," said Heath, reaching over to kiss the woman's hand.

"Oh please," said Ista, snatching her hand away, "No need for formalities."

"Anything you wish, my lady," said Heath, making a face at Ista before backing into place again.

"You may leave," said the Queen, "Ista, please come and speak to us."

"Good eve," said Theodren, walking to the door with Tyga and Heath. They walked slowly down the hall to their suite, entered and shut the door.

"Oh god," said Tyga, "Did you see that girl. What a ninny! Such an empty headed wench I've never seen."

"She wouldn't let me kiss her hand," said Heath, "I went through courtly manners for THAT?"

"Both of you quiet," spat Theodren, "I know you're both young and green, but we stand on dangerous ground. There was something about that girl we don't know. Why else would she have a private audience with the king and queen not during the regular time? She's likely not just a ninny."

"Right," snorted Tyga.

"I'm the expert here," replied Theodren, through gritted teeth, "Tyga, you stick to magic, and Heath, stick to courier work. You're both too young to understand."

"We're both full heralds," indignantly answered Tyga.

"Yes," said Theodren, "And you have courtly grace. But we are NOT in Valdemar, or Karse, or any other country where we're understood. Jkatha doesn't know Heralds. They treat us like any other guards and will treat any mistake we make HARSHLY. You know, you could've gotten us kicked out of here with that face, Heath."

"I'm sorry," said Heath, hanging his head.

"Now, tomorrow, we'll restock and prepare. I think for now we'll attend the court audience in an hour or so. Full formal gear. Find out what you can about this Ista," said Theodren.

"Whatever," said Tyga distainfully.

"This was so much easier before mages," said Theodren.


"And so that's what is going on in the school," said Ista, who was sitting on the stairs leading up to the twin thrones of Jkatha.

"It sounds like you have everything in balance," said Merili, "I'm surprised you've taken on a student."

"I…I have to prove I can be a real trainer," said Ista.

"But all that extra work," said Merili, reaching down and touching Ista's face, "Can you do it? I mean it's a lot of work. More time with her. Less time with the music."

"She is the music," replied Ista, "She's got talent."

"Now," said Albayah, "About your request."

Ista's heart skipped a beat. She had requested to be with the delegation heading to Kata'shin'a'in. She wanted a chance to prove she could actually survive outside of throne city. She had asked on a whim, but hoped that the king and queen found her capable enough. It wasn't a long post, just a few months and then back.

"We don't think we can send you," said Merili, sounding rather dejected, "We're sending Johan."

"But Johan didn't want to go," cried Ista.

"Ista, you're just not the right person. You can't take care of yourself. You'd need too much help," said Albayah, "This is a job for a fully functional bard. You're just not strong enough or able enough. You're our little musical legend. We just want you to be safe."

"All right," said Ista, trying to smile, "Now, why don't we adjourn to the next room and Johan and I will perform."

"Wonderful!" said Albayah, rising to his feet and walking to the door to the court chamber. Merili held back, and knelt down next to Ista. Ista and Merili had been friends since Ista's first day at the Institute, when Ista had run into the Princess. Merili was like a mother to Ista.

"Sweetling," said Merili, "Be patient. I have a job for you. Be strong."

"I will," said Ista, rising to her feet. Merili took Ista by the arm and led her too the door.


Tyga, Heath and Theodren all looked into the court hall as the pair of Bards set off into the quick movement of their piece.

"I told you she wasn't some court flower," said Theodren.

"So she's a Bard," said Tyga, "Big deal."

"You're right," said Heath, "BIG deal. When you need information in a city, the first place you go is the maids. They know everything. Then you find a bard. And they tell you everything else. That was one of the lessons that Skif drilled into us on information gathering."

"Shush," said Tyga, "Let's just enjoy listening to them sing."

Ista and Johan were finishing the last movement of a song called 'Hey'. It was a dumb title, but it was written by Epjay, the headmaster of the Bardic Institute. Perhaps once he passed, Ista and the others would change the title, but until then it couldn't happen.

The song was long and complex, but beautiful when played well. Johan and Ista enjoyed the song simply because it allowed them to be in their element. It was a modern piece for two guitars, one representing the idealism of society and the other reality. Johan and Ista both used their gifts to project different feelings, giving goose bumps to many of the court. As they neared the end, Ista swallowed hard, and prepared to sing the last few lines, which were sung along with the guitar.

"I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly, I'll do what it takes till I touch the sky," she sung, "make a wish, take a chance, make a change and breakaway. Out of the darkness and into the sun, I won't forget all the ones that I love. I gotta take a risk, take a chance, make a change and breakaway."

As her crystal clear voice tapered off, the court erupted in shouts and clapping. Ista rose, and Johan took her hand. Together, they bowed and Johan led her off stage, amid the ruckus. They moved quietly towards the door, not looking back. Although they preformed in the court, they did not belong there. Johan knew that the court saw them only as entertainment, and it was worse for Ista. She was pitiful entertainment. Although no one usually saw it, Johan knew that it hurt Ista when the court tried to be nice to her. They often spoke to her in small, slow words, like she was some sort of halfwit.

As they neared the Heralds, Ista pulled her hand away from Johan and reached for her cane.

"Can't I escort a lady back to her room," said Johan.

"I don't see any ladies," said Ista, her voice dripping with venom, "Just one pitiful blind herald. If you want ladies, go see the king. I mean, you're his favourite bard right now."

"Ista, what's wrong," asked Johan, "One moment, we're playing beautiful music, and the next you're mad at me. Is it moon days?"

"Oh god," said Ista in disgust, "My moon days are none of your business, and they will remain none of your business. You won't have time to worry about them anyways, what with you going to Kata'shin'a'in and all."

"How do you know about that?" asked Johan, "I just found out before the performance."

"I wanted that job," said Ista, "It was a chance to leave Throne city."
"You can't do it," snapped Johan, "You're not capable enough."

"I write my own music and perform, don't I?"

"Yes, but this is a strange city. You don't deal well with change."

"I deal fine with change," insisted Ista, "You never give me a chance to prove it."

"Do you remember the black eye you got when we changed the layout of your room?"

"One, I was fifteen, and two, you did it without telling me. I couldn't see you'd done it."

"Well how do you expect to survive in Kata'shin'a'in. It's always changing."

"I know it changes. That's the difference. I didn't EXPECT my bed to be on the opposite wall."

"Whatever," said Johan, "You're better off here. There are so many songs that need translation, and there's Rhian."

"You know," said Ista, "Sometimes I wonder why I bother with you at all."

"Because you need me."

"Because I'm a glutton for stupidity," spat Ista in Karsite, before turning around and storming off, her cane still clutched in Johan's hand. She knew Johan didn't understand Karsite, and it was a language such that almost everything sounded angry, unlike the romantic sounded Jkathan language.

"Ista!" called Johan plaintively, "Your cane."

"Screw the cane," called Ista from halfway down the hall.

"Ista," called Johan as he raced after the girl.

"Wow," said Tyga, "That was public."

"No one cares about the bards here," said Theodren, "It's not like Valdemar. Here, it's nice to be a bard, but no noble would send even their youngest bastard son to the institute. Therefore, their business is not looked upon as gossip worthy. As far as the nobles go, that fight didn't just happen."

"She's no halfwit," said Heath, "She's a smart one."

"She's blind," said Theodren, "Didn't you see him offer her the cane. She's not lame, so she must be using it to make sure she doesn't bump into things."

"But she missed hitting three waiters on the way down the hall," said Tyga, "It makes no sense."

"Well then," said Theodren, "I guess I'll have to figure it out tomorrow."