If I Were a Herald

Chapter 6

Finally Friday

Ah, the smell of freedom. Green grass growing in the Companions' Field, the wind in my face, brightly colored leaves crackling underfoot. A can of green hair spray clutched in my right hand, and a can of black silly-string in my left. I sat upon Lyrna, riding bareback, next to my friend Jorjie, who held red hair-spray and blue silly-string. Jorjie rode her Companion Kylie, a racer like Lyrna.

"Ready?" I asked.

"Ready," Jorjie said.

"Go!" Both Companions took off, chasing after their fellows. The other Companions tried to avoid us, but ours were too fast. As the distance between us closed, I sprayed the other Companions from both cans, turning their pristine white hides a bright neon green, black string tangled in their manes and tails. Jorgie's victims were red, and trailing the blue string. It wouldn't last very long; I knew that much, even if Jorjie didn't. Besides the fact that the hair spray would come out with a good scrubbing, it was nigh impossible to dye a Companion's fur. The dye just wouldn't hold, or the pure essence of the companion would bleach it out, like when use of node-magic turned an Adept's hair silver.

When the cans ran out, we wheeled around and headed back for the entrance to the field, to face a mob of annoyed Heralds.

"Jorjie, you'll never make a Herald if you keep playing pranks like that."

"Who, me?" my roommate asked, assuming her most innocent expression.

:Don't you even try: Lyrna said. :You look about as innocent as a cat who's gotten into the cream.:

I just raised my eyebrows and grinned. On impulse, I Sent her an image of me with a glowing halo above my head.

:You're not fooling me. And that halo should be crooked.:

:It's not crooked. My devil's horns are holding it up.: I modified the mental image to include a pair of curly red horns.

"What prompted you to get your roommate involved? Really," the Herald continued, turning to me, "You should've been warned about her. Such a trickster. The only reason she's still alive is everyone adores her."

"Who says this was her idea?" I asked. "I provided the cans." I vaulted down off Lyrna. Both she and Jorjie's Kylie were willing participants in this prank. We couldn't have done it without them.

The young Herald groaned. He was really very handsome, tall and thin, with a face chiseled from stone. "Don't tell me that we have two terrors at the Collegium now. That would be just too much to bear. And your Companions are co-conspirators with you. When will it end?"

"Isn't Corwin such a dear?" Jorjie asked. "Yes, Corwin, dear. I have indeed found a partner in crime."

"You two are in major trouble. You do realize that, don't you?"

"Of course. So?"

"Are you ever going to grow up?" Corwin asked her.

"Nope." She grinned, entirely unashamed.

"At this rate you'll never get your Whites. You have to be mature to earn your Whites, and so far you've shown no maturity whatsoever."

"So? This is so much fun!"

Turned out we weren't really in that much trouble. The Dean of the Collegium gave us a sterner talking-to than I'd ever had in my life, even worse than when I was suspended in high school. This time, though, there was no way to contact my parents. I was my own person, responsible for my own actions. We got off with doubled chores for the next week.

"We'll never have any free time," Jorjie moaned.

"Nonsense," I said. "It's just doubled chores. Look, I have to do washing and mending, and you have to clean the bathrooms."

"I despise cleaning bathrooms."

"It's not that bad. My feet are nastier than most of the stuff in there." As a student at New College, I had been accustomed to walking around with bare feet. Even though I now had a nice pair of boots tailor-made to fit my feet, I still much preferred the absence of shoes, although my feet had taken to freezing in the chill dewy grass.

"Yes, well, my feet are nice and clean, and I don't even want to know where your feet have been that they're nastier than the bathrooms here."

A few minutes of silence. "Let's go somewhere," I suggested, mostly to break the silence. It was getting so thick I could feel it.

"Where?"

"I dunno. Any good taverns you know of?"

"Oh, come on. Kylie is never going to let me go to a tavern." Kylie was her Companion, and was not nearly as lenient as mine. Then again, Kylie hadn't Chosen a pirate. Wannabe. But Kylie was great for pranks, as our earlier little adventure had demonstrated.

"I was told you grew up on Lake Evendim. Don't tell me you didn't drink while you were there."

"Of course I drank. But that was years ago. Why, I've even lost my accent."

Suddenly I'd discovered a better topic than taverns. "Did you ever see any pirates?"

"Once. A pirate ship docked in our harbor, bold as brass. I remember one young sailor—his name was Jacoby. Tall, dark-haired, with golden skin like the Tayledras or the Shin'a'in horse-traders. Rather a nice lad. Pity that circumstances forced him to turn to piracy."

My eyes lit up. "Did you know him well?"

Jorjie nodded. "Aye, quite well. He used to come to Vertin—that's my hometown—often when he was younger, before he turned to piracy. Like I said, a nice lad. A few years older than me. He'd be, oh, at least twenty-two summers by now."

We spent about half a candlemark discussing the pirate named Jacoby—what Jorjie knew and what she'd deduced or guessed. Eventually we did sneak off to one of the taverns, when Jorjie got tired of my complaints that I hadn't had any booze in three days. "It's not like it's illegal," I pointed out. There wasn't a drinking age in Valdemar, was there?

Thus we found ourselves ensconced in a corner booth in one of the higher-quality taverns, both wearing piratish outfits put together from what I'd brought with me. For myself, I wore a pair of pants with writing all over them, most of it in Latin, most of that insults, and most of the rest curses and threats; a white button-up shirt with bloodstains; a shiny maroon vest; a blue, purple, and black tye-dye sash; and a red bandana. Jorgie wore my blue bandana, a pair of rough khakhi pants that came halfway down her calves, and a shiny purple long-sleeved shirt. No need for the other patrons to know we were Trainees.

The server eyed us suspiciously. I suppose we did look rather like bandits, especially me, with my dagger stuck into my sash. No way I was going out into the city without it, even if it was rather dull. Sharpening it was a project for whatever free time I managed to scrape up during the next week. Then I'd have to sharpen my other dagger, and my sword.

I ordered rum, and was gratified that they actually had some. Expensive stuff, though—they said it was because it had to be imported from the south. Figured. Jorjie preferred beer, something I just could not understand. Nasty stuff, beer. Tastes like piss.

It didn't take us long to get roaring drunk. "Back home, we call this plastered," I informed Jorjie, with only a minimal amount of slurring. I suppose I could've spoken normally if I'd put forth any semblance of effort, but part of the effect of alcohol is that you don't care if you sound drunk. Or look drunk. Or act drunk.

Of course, I didn't care much about those things sober, either. Bring on the lampshade!

But just to be sure, I recited the alphabet backwards in my mind. Yep, I could still do that. What else could I try? Oh, yes, the Pledge of Allegiance in Latin. Fidem meam obligo vexillo Civitatium Americae Foederatarum, et Rei Publicae, pro qua stat, uni nationi, deo ducente, non dividendae, cum libertate iustitiaque omnibus.

:You are far too fond of foreign languages: Lyrna noted.

:Yeah, well, they're fun. And they make me feel smart: I replied, for once using Mindspeech rather than regular speech. It was actually kind of fun to use Mindspeech. Like a magic trick, only this was real magic. Well, psi. But close enough.

"Know any drinking songs?" I asked my friend.

"I grew up aroun' sailors, an' ye ask if I know drinkin' songs," she said, taking on what I could only assume to be her native accent. "I've got quite a few in me 'ead. Like to 'ear 'em?"

I nodded eagerly. I'd always loved drinking songs, ever since my first exposure while watching FotR Extended Edition.

We spent a pleasant couple of hours singing at the tops of our lungs, while the rest of the tavern joined in at random intervals. I dragged Jorjie onto the dance floor, not really know how to dance to the jig that was playing, but not really caring, either. The dancing was fun, but it just wasn't the same as grinding, and I didn't know anyone there other than Jorjie. "Someday," I said, "I'm going to throw a party at the Collegium, New College-style. Punch and all." New College punch was a phenomenon all of its own. It wasn't quite bootleg moonshine, but it came close. I doubted the Heraldic Trainees had ever seen anything quite like it. And I knew for certain they'd never seen a party quite like a New College Wall.

This was going to be fun.

Nawyn: No, you really don't want my dreams… the real ones are very disturbing. As for the songs, the cd I have of them doesn't seem to be working, so I'm going to try to get a cd that does work… see, the originals are on someone else's computer, and I don't think I have the software to play them properly….

Fireblade K'Chona: If you like the hyper/cynical outlook, and have ever seen Stargate, I invite you to read my SG-13 series. It is muchly filled with hyperly cynical goodness. And I will attempt to get the songs on mp3. Currently I'm trying to get them so that I can listen to them. I'm slightly behind the times when it comes to technology.