If I Were a Herald

Chapter 18

Let Them Be Little

Fireblade K'Chona: I love your comments on my songs. Very poetic. And my references can get very obscure at times. I've found that very few people like a lot of the same things as me. David Eddings, Mercedes Lackey, Robert Jordan, Terry Goodkind, Stargate, MacGyver, Seven Days, Farscape (though I haven't watched much of that; must remember to do that over Thanksgiving, 'cause that guy's hot), Pretender. Yeah. Basically fantasy and sci fi books and shows, a lot of them popular twenty years ago and unheard of now. I'm one of those people who doesn't automatically hate anything their parents watch. And good for the teasing—although I will have one adventure that should last for several chapters, later on. What obscure things have you read/watched? We could compile a list of all the random stuff we've read that no one else has even heard of.

Tempeste-Silere: Thanks for the comment about Lyrna. I'd been trying to make her individual, but wasn't sure how well I was succeeding. And thanks for the suggestions. I will try to work them in. You have definitely given me ideas.

Nawyn: You are now the second person to suggest pirate plays. That makes two out of three… with the third abstaining. So pirate plays it is. I totally sympathize with the roommate complications. No one in this college seems to like country for some reason. shakes head Very strange. Lol. As for the children… well… let's just say I hope Jacoby likes little kids.

Me and the kids made our way back to Haven. We took our time. Mostly I walked, carrying Marky, while one or two of the others rode Lyrna. Marky loved riding on my shoulders, and he very quickly discovered that if he turned my head to one side, I would obey by turning in that direction, just like a horse. The children all loved me. Just like every other child I'd encountered in the past. And I loved them.

I think that was the happiest journey of my Heraldic career. The kids had grown up on the streets, but they took to the games I taught them like birds to the air. It was getting on toward winter, with the first snowfalls. Hell, I'd been at this, what, about a year now. I'd spent months with those bandits. That assignment had definitely gone on far too long.

But I was talking about the snow. These children had, of course, seen snow. As something to be feared and avoided. They'd grown up on the bleeding streets in Haven. Not a life I'd wish on an adult, much less a child. The poor things. They huddled close together, seeking warmth from me and Lyrna, as the snow began to fall. So I cast a little spell of warmth, putting it upon their scanty clothes, so that they radiated heat. In addition, I gave them little bits of my clothing to supplement their rags. Unfortunately I hadn't brought that much along. But I had gotten plenty of blankets from Jundor's house, which I had raided after getting back with the children.

"Back home, in the far-off land of America, we have a tradition," I told the children solemnly. "Every time it snows, children go outside and make snowmen and snow angels and snow forts, and have snowball fights."

"What's a snowman?" nine-year-old Melissa asked.

So of course I had to show them. And after that I had to show them snow angels and snow forts. And then the oldest, Jaym, who was fourteen, challenged me to a snowball fight, so we organized teams. Marky was on my team, naturally. He refused to be separated from me. Jaysika and Kyel went with Jaym, and Melissa joined me and Marky. Kyel and Jaysika stormed our fort while Jaym guarded theirs. We repelled their first attack, but only when Marky started flinging snow along with the rest of us. Then I sent Melissa after Jaym. She pelted him with snow until he went down. But Kyel and Jaysika got us back by taking out me and Marky. Eventually Melissa went down as well.

By that time the sun was low in the sky. Luckily there was a Waystation nearby. We hadn't been able to make it to one every day, since we were traveling much slower than Companions did usually. So we had a warm fire and supper that I cooked. I might not be the best cook, but I could at least manage not to burn stuff. And I did shoot us a few rabbits, so there was meat for the children, even if none was left for me. Those kids had not been getting enough to eat. They ate like the starvelings they were. Luckily my archery skills were still up to par. I might not be a match for Robin Hood, but I could still hit a rabbit from thirty yards.

"What's your name?" asked Jaym. "And how'd you get your horse?"

I smiled indulgently. "I'm Herald Kali. I don't have any Whites with me 'cause I left them all in Haven. But this here is no horse. She's a Companion, and her name is Lyrna." I'd decided it was good policy not to bring Whites with me when I was undercover. What would happen to Eldan was lesson enough for me. Unfortunately I couldn't warn them, since then Kero wouldn't meet Eldan, she wouldn't get her reward, and the Skybolts would be deep in the red. They might not even be able to help Valdemar fight Ancar. My Mage-Gift was going to make things complicated as it was. At least the people of Valdemar were so disinclined to believe in magic, thanks to Vanyel's spell, that they were like Muggles. They'd go to any length to disbelieve what was right before their eyes.

"A Herald? Are we in trouble?" Jaym asked worriedly.

"No, you're not in trouble. Like I said, I'm going to find you homes."

We got to Haven on market day. Lots of people trampling around the streets, Jaym eying them like a wolf in the middle of a herd of deer. "No stealing," I hissed at him.

"But my sister's still here, living on the streets. I've got to give her some food. She must be starving without me."

"Tell you what, kid. You find your sister and bring her to me. I swear I'll find a family for you both."

Jaym laughed cynically. "No one would want a kid my age."

"'Course they would," I said. "I would. You need to learn to be kids again." Let them be little, 'cause they're only that way for a while. Let 'em cry, let 'em giggle, let them sleep in the middle, oh, but let them be little.

Jaym scampered off, saying he'd find me in a while. "I'll be at the market place," I told him. "Bring your sister. We need to be introduced."

The remaining children looked hungrily at all the wonders of the market. Paper angels, you're in my thoughts and prayers. No matter where you are right now, remember God's right there. He's asking all of us to help take care of His paper angels everywhere. "Tell you what, kids. We'll go to all the stalls. Pick out something you really want, and I'll buy it for you."

They looked at me with wide eyes. "Really?"

"Yeah, really. Consider it a treat. You deserve it. You've kept the journey back here interesting."

Jaym showed up in the middle of it, with his sister Gloria. She was even skinnier than the rest, about eleven years old and pale as a sheet. First thing I did for her was get her some food.

Corwin found me in the marketplace. "Whatcha doing here? I thought you were off on a mission."

"I was. I'll report back when I'm ready, and not before. Lyrna's already relayed all the relevant details."

"Who're the kids?"

"Orphans, at the moment. I'm going to try and get them homes."

"And if you can't?"

"Then I'll adopt them myself."

"Look, Kali, I don't mean to be hard on you, but you really don't have time for children."

"I don't bloody care, you hear me? I'll make time. These kids are worth it."

Jaym's hand snuck out to try to lift a purse. I slapped it back. "Don't do that, can't you see how he's aware of everything around him? You'll get caught."

"What do you know about thieving?" he asked angrily.

"State secret." I laid a finger along my nose in imitation of Silk.

"You have no idea what it's like to be starving, to go for weeks without food."

"You're right, I don't," I admitted candidly. "And I'm not blaming you for stealing. Heavens know I would have done the same in your position. But you've got to be careful. If you get caught, who will bail you out of jail?"

"I'll get out myself. I've done it before."

"Really?" I was impressed. "You mean you escaped from jail?"

"Yeah, that's exactly what I mean. And if you try to put me back in there—"

"Far be it from me to do any such thing. I admire a good thief, especially one who can get himself out of tight situations. I just don't want you to get in trouble."

"Huh."

"C'mere, kid. Give me a hug."

He obeyed with some reluctance.

"There, that's better. Now chin up, and remember, even if I have to feed you off my sketchy hunting skills, you'll never go hungry again."

Actually it didn't take very long to find families for the younger children. Except for Marky. Sure, lots of people wanted to adopt him, but he absolutely refused to let go of my neck. And he threw a fit every time anyone tried to separate him from me. After that, nobody was too eager to adopt him.

The older children were something of a problem as well. Jaym, Gloria, and Melissa were all too old for people to want to adopt them. But then Jorjie came up with an excellent solution: make them pages. Once I'd vouched for their character—and given Jaym a stern lecture about stealing from the Palace—the Council agreed readily enough. But with one condition.

"They still need parents. Or, rather, a parent. We can't just have them running around wild. Someone has to be responsible for them. Will you agree to adopt them, at least until we can find them a permanent home?" To which proposition I was most eager to comply. Children of my own. Maybe not from my womb, but it was still a dream come true.

That still left Marky. He would not let me go. "Looks like I'm stuck with you, kid," I told him. "You know I won't be here very often."

"Want Mommy," he told me. "Mommy not leave me."

"I'm sorry. I don't know where you're mommy is."

"You are my mommy," he said, very distinctly.

I shrugged. I loved all kids. The younger, the better. And Marky was so sweet. "Sure. I'm your mommy. And you're my Marky."

"Good."

I put them all to bed over much protesting from Jaym. "You need your sleep," I told him. "Trust me. You'll be glad of it when you're older." I certainly was. My parents had given me a bedtime until I was fifteen—then I'd started imposing a bed time on myself that was earlier than the one my parents would've given me. "Look, I'm going to bed, too. Goodnight, kids. Sleep tight. Don't let the bed bugs bite."

"What are bed bugs?" Marky asked sleepily. So I had to explain bed bugs, and the monster under the bed, who would get him if he didn't stay in bed all night. "But the monster under the bed doesn't like light, so as soon as the sun comes up, he goes to sleep."

"Tell us a bedtime story," Jaym requested. "Me mum used to do that afore she died."

So I obliged him. My dad had also told bedtime stories. They had always been about Kalina and Salina, or some such names, who were princesses of the island known only as Magic Land. Now I told a story about Prince Jaym, who had to rescue the maiden Melissa from the terrible dragon, with the help of his faithful squire Marky. They got some unexpected aid from the sorceress Gloria, who could fly. Finally Prince Jaym rescued dear Melissa just as soft snores emanated from all four young mouths.

With a contented little smile, I made my way to my own bed. It wasn't long before I was snoring, as well.

The deck was cold beneath my feet. The sun shone on my back, giving warmth to my upper body. Small hands clung to my neck. A larger hand settled on my hip. "Who're the kids?" It was the gruff voice of the captain. My lifebonded. My love.

"Kids?" I looked around. Marky snuggled against my shoulder, and Jaym, Gloria, and Melissa stood nearby. "They're mine."

"Yours and whose else?" Jealousy, green as the Slytherin mascot, glittered angrily in his eyes. I could see his eyes, but not his face. They were blue-green, like the clear water of the Caribbean. Unconsciously I rubbed the small silver scar on my right hand.

"No one," I laughed. "They're adopted."

"Who's he?" Jaym demanded suspiciously, glaring at the captain. He had placed himself between the pirate and his sister, protecting her.

"I'm a pirate. But don't worry. I mean ye no 'arm."

"Easy enough for you to say." Jaym's stance remained wary. Now he looked ready to protect me as well as Gloria. He would take on the captain in defense of us all.

"It's okay, Jaym. You can trust him. At least as far as you can throw him." I grinned at the captain, and he grinned back.

"'Oo's the little'un?"

"I'm Marky," said the youngster, taking his thumb out of his mouth. "This is my mommy."

The captain's expression softened. "Is she? Ye 'ave a fine mother, Marky, an' don' let anyone tell ye otherwise."

"What do pirates do?" Marky asked in his adorable little four-year-old voice.

"We steal things," the captain admitted candidly. "We attack ships and make off with their gold."

"My mommy says that stealing is bad."

I smiled sheepishly at the glance the captain shot at me. If only Marky hadn't brought that up. I didn't want the pirate to know that I was a Herald. If he knew, he'd want nothing to do with me. He was a pirate. He couldn't afford a relationship with a bleeding Herald. "Now, Marky. What a thing to say."

"But you tell Jaymy not to steal."

"I tell Jaymy not to get caught," I corrected him. "There's a difference."

Marky squirmed, wanting to be let down. I set him on the cold boards of the deck.

The captain's breath whispered in my ear. "Any way we can get rid o' the kids for a couple hours?"

"Sorry, mate," I murmured back. "They're my responsibility."

"Let's be irresponsible." He nuzzled my neck.

"I take my duty very seriously," I told him. "I've given my oath to take care of these kids. I won't renege on my word."

"Can't ye just make them go away? This is a dream, right?"

He was right; this was a dream. But it wasn't as easy as that. They were here, and they weren't under any sort of control from me. It was as if the children had found their way into the private dreamland shared by myself and the pirate captain.

The children were there, and that was a fact. "Why don't you try playing with them?" I asked the captain. "They're great kids."

"What should I do?"

"I don't know. Do you have any practice swords?" One of my neighbors back on Earth had had a five-year-old son. He'd loved dueling with me with plastic swords or lightsabers or just whatever was handy.

"Nay, none."

Wait a minute. This was a dream. I concentrated for a minute, trying to remember what the plastic swords had looked like. Cutlasses. Six popped into the air before me. I grabbed one as they fell to the deck.

"Hey, cool!" Marky said. He, too, grabbed a sword and started waving it around.

"Whoa, be careful with that." The captain jumped back to avoid a particularly wild swing.

"It's okay. They won't hurt you. They're plastic."

"What's that mean?"

"It's a material from my homeland, America. We use it to make toys such as these."

We play-fought for a while. Even Jaym became less reticent when the captain offered to give him a few pointers. I knelt and fought little Marky. He ran me on my knees all over the deck, until I was quite exhausted. I executed a very dramatic death scene, complete with calling for my Mommy and sucking on my thumb, and he chopped me up into little bits. Bloodthirsty little mite. Finally the children began to fade away.

As soon as we were alone, I made the plastic swords disappear. "So."

He grinned. "So."

"We're alone."

"That we are. What do ye suggest we do about it?"

I giggled like a naughty teenager. "Oh, I'm sure I can think of something."

"Like what?"

"Well, I used to read romance novels. Girl-porn. Gave me quite a few ideas. I was thinking maybe we could… experiment."

And experiment we did.

"When I grow up, I wanna be a pirate," Marky announced over breakfast the next morning.

I bit back a groan. We were all gathered there, and from the lack of "What's a pirate?" from the others, I had a nagging suspicion that they'd all had the same dream. My dream. Bad enough that my pirate captain turned out to be real—at least he'd gone to the effort of saving my life. My dreams were private. Especially with him. I didn't need little children poking their noses where they didn't belong. "Piracy is a dangerous business, Marky."

"But I had a dream last night. You were in it, and Jaymy, and Gloria, and Missy. And there was a pirate. And we played with toy swords."

Sounded familiar.

Jaym didn't look up from his food. "I had the same dream. What does that mean?"

"Well, we already knew you had the Gift of Mindspeech," I began, when Gloria and Missy both piped up that they'd had the same dream, too.

"So what about you?" Jaym asked me. "Did you have the dream?"

I nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, I had it, too."

"And what about the pirate?"

"He's real enough," I allowed.

"Who is he?"

"That I don't know. But I'm going to find out."

Review! Mesa needs reviews. I'm just a poor little author. No money, no dowry, no family background. Plus I'd like ideas for what to put into the next chapter. It's called "There's No Business Like Show Business," and it's all about my wonderful adventures on stage. So far I've received two suggestions that I put on some sort of pirate play. At the moment I'm thinking something based loosely off "Pirates of Penzance," just because I saw that one in theaters a couple weeks ago, then watched the movie version last Friday. I'll probably go back and revise it after The Tempest, but that's not until January, and hopefully I'll get the first version up before then so we can "go on with the show." But I'm going to be the boatswain in that prestigious play, and it's going to be bloody awesome. I got the part! I got the part! does the happy-dance But, seriously. Besides suggestions for the next chapter—or song requests for future chapters—I need ideas for this chapter. I just haven't played Jedi with Trey in so long, and I was having trouble coming up with ideas.