If I Were a Herald

Chapter 21

Some Kind of Hero

So I'm a Herald. So what? They call me a hero, but I'm not, not really. I'm self-agenda'd. I'm cold and calculating. Not necessarily heartless, but I can be when the occasion demands. So this chapter is about me being a hero, but not really being the true hero. And it paves the way for something else which is to come. Basically I need King Roald to owe me a favor. A big favor.

And the reason for my reading and writing of romance comes out. I have a prude of a mother who managed to instill her moral values in me, so I have to get my thrills through reading and writing. ;-)

Syl: Thanks for your grammar nitpickiness. I've gone back and corrected the mistakes that were actually mistakes. However, a few points: commas and periods always go inside the quotes. Always. No matter what. Semicolons and question marks can go on the inside or outside, depending on the nature of the quotation, but commas and periods always go inside. The unclosed quotes are intentional; if a speaker goes on for more than one paragraph, all the paragraphs but the last leave the quote open at the end, but begin with a begin-quotes. If that makes any sense. And the "muchly" included as part of the narrative is because that's the kind of story it is. After careful deliberation, I decided to leave my hurricane season reference as is, because, as a Floridian, that's how I refer to it. But you did catch a few things that I missed, and thanks for that! I've tried to clear up the confusion of that one paragraph. It was so awkward.

Tempeste-Silere: Thanks for the review, and the encouragements. I have begun the modified version of it, meaning I've got about two paragraphs written. Don't have a title yet. Maybe four years from now that could be my thesis… if I change my major to creative writing, which is the current plan.

D2queen: I love being the bad guy, even if I lose. And if you really like mock battles, look into the Pennsic War. The SCA really exists and really puts on a war every year. I'm totally joining when I finish college. Oh, and truly, Pennsic War IV, known as the Pennsic Pour, really did happen.

Nawyn: Yayness, a review. Did I mention how much I'm grateful to you for reviewing every chapter? It's devoted readers like you who make authors feel needed.

A/N (11/22/05): Just for the record, this is sort of my NaNoWriMo novel, even though I started in October and won't be finished by the end of November. For those of you who don't know, November is National Novel Writing Month. An excuse for us authors to ignore our schoolwork and concentrate on stories. It's also one of the reasons that I've been updating so often. The goal is to write a fifty-thousand-word novel in a month. Well, I've already surpassed fifty thousand words, but it's taken me slightly longer than a month to do so. My boyfriend (note: I now have a pirate boyfriend. In real life. Isn't that awesome?) was going to write something for it, but I don't know if he ever decided on anything.

Just to recap, and for my own reference, my Gifts are as follows: relatively strong Mage-Gift (which I can't use very often because that would change the future), strong Empathy, decent Fetching, decent MindSpeech, and a very small amount of Animal Mindspeech. I'm twenty-two and a half, Jaym's fourteen, Marky's almost five, Gloria's eleven, and Melissa's nine.

Kudos to Fireblade for the camping idea! And if anyone can suggest a title for the modified version of this story, please, I could use some help. And you will all be mentioned in my acknowledgments because I love you all and couldn't have written it without your encouragement!

"Herald Kali?" The voice was young and female—probably one of the pages. I cracked open one eye, reluctantly, and saw that I was correct.

"I might be. It depends." I was just enjoying a long, hot soak to bake the ice out of my bones. As soon as I got back to the palace, dry had stopped holding so much appeal, and warm had definitely worked its way to the top of my agenda. I'd wanted to live on a ship in the Caribbean; not much chance for dry there, but warm, well, it had better be warm!

"I have a note for you." Now both eyes were open, as I watched the page intently and prayed that the note wasn't a call to arms. "It's from Herald Jorjetta."

Cliché as it sounds, I heaved a sigh of relief. Actually, at the moment I was feeling very cliché, and not particularly caring, either. "In that case, yes, I am Herald Kali." The page handed me the note and stood waiting for my reply.

"Heyla, Kali. I still can't believe that we won. The villains! It's unheard of. Marky was adorable. The healers are furious. All those colds, you know.

"Anyway, I was wondering if you could spare some time for a little outing in the woods. Would you believe that Corwin has never been camping for the sheer hell of it? Stefany, Rachel, and I decided we absolutely had to take him, along with a small group of trainees, and we wondered if you wanted to come.

"So, what do you say? Can you clear your schedule for another few days? We can use it as an opportunity to train some of the more advanced trainees in tracking in the woods. Your kids are welcome to come along."

A camping trip! I hadn't gone on a camping trip in—oh, far too long. When was my last trip, anyway? Ah, yes. January 2005. Daddy and I had gone deer-hunting in South Carolina. Freezing. Oh my goodness. I'd been surprised when it hadn't snowed. And a bit disappointed, to tell the truth. Living in Florida, I didn't get too many chances to see snow.

Nowadays I was sick of the damn white stuff. Although I'd certainly missed it during our little battle. Snow would have been much more welcome than the freezing rain. At least snow was relatively dry, and could be brushed off.

There was still more to the note.

"Stefany says that the bards have written yet another song about you. It's about the Valsic War. I'd include it, but it's rather long. You're just going to have to listen to Stefany sing it on the camping trip, if you come.

"Write me back with your answer. If you're planning to come, meet us at noon in the Companions' Field."

Of course I'd come. A pen, I needed a pen. Ah, yes, there had been one in my pocket. I never went anywhere without a pen. I rooted around in my pile of clothes until I found it, careful to stay within the embrace of the warm water. Aha! I grasped it triumphantly. Quickly I scratched out a response to Jorjie on the back of the note. "I'll be there. Truth to tell, I need some tracking lessons, myself." Mostly I'd made do with my small Gift for Animal Mindspeech in order to find the little critters in their dens. Sneaky and backstabbing, I know. Rather a form of cheating. But I preferred to think of it as giving the fates a nudge. It was really no worse than using FarSight or OtherSight to find them. I handed the note to the page, and she left as silently as she'd come.

I was about as wrinkled as a prune, if not more so, when I finally got out of the tub. It had been a long time since I'd been able to soak that long. What with training the young'uns and having kids of my own, I'd been kept constantly busy. With the camping trip coming up, it didn't look like I was going to be able to enjoy these sophisticated facilities for too much longer before going back into the primitive beyond.

Sophisticated. Ha! Sure, the water pumped in. Sure it was warm. But it wasn't sophisticated at all by Earth standards. Then again, I'd left those standards far behind me. Besides, I was happier here than I'd ever been on Earth. Here, I had the ability to make a difference. Lyrna was here to keep me company; I would never be lonely again. Except for this ache inside of me where a man should be—but then, I'd had that back on Earth, too. Just not so pronounced. I'd had this idea that as soon as I graduated from college I'd go husband-hunting. Crazy idea.

From the position of the sun, I had about a candlemark before noon. I toweled myself dry, luxuriating in the softness of the thick material. "Hey Lyrna, did you read that note? We're going camping."

:Yes, I read it through your eyes.: My Companion didn't sound too happy about it. :Why do we have to go camping? We only just got back.:

"Would you like some cheese with your whine?" A jolt of homesickness shot through me as I recited the old tease. Daddy had said that to me all the time.

:That's because you whine all the time.:

"Hey, at least it's an internal monologue now."

:Internal, my foot:

"You don't have feet, darling."

:Yes, well….: She trailed off, reluctant to admit, even to her Chosen, that she'd had feet in a previously life.

"I already know all about you. You forget, I read the books. Anyway, if you want to be correct, you'd have to say, 'Internal, my hoof!'" I stepped into a fresh pair of trousers. White, of course. At least Heralds owned their Whites. I'd gone through some effort to relieve the starkness of the color. So my Whites tended to have little blue ribbons attached, or silver buckles, or any of a number of different things. I'd even had one set made entirely in black. I actually looked good in black. This particular pair was decorated with emerald-green trim and silver punk chains. The shirt was plain white, but the tunic was decorated similarly to the pants. It was my little rebellion. If I had to wear clothes that yelled "Here I am! Shoot me!" then at least I would wear them with style—and point out just how ridiculous the uniform was.

:Is there some reason you're speaking aloud? What about this internal monologue you mentioned:

"It makes people look at me funny when I speak to thin air."

:Right. Remind me why I Chose you:

"I have no earthly idea. You tell me. I never thought of myself as incorruptible."

:Well you are, as long as you have me here to remind you of your duty. And the people need you.:

"Me?" I snorted. "I'm nothing, I'm nobody. I have two claims to fame: the first being that I have got to be the most outrageous Herald in the history of Valdemar, and the second being the fact that I managed to escape from torture at the hands of a Sun-Priest."

:You are not the most outrageous Herald in the history of Valdemar. Vanyel was—:

"Gay, but not really all that outrageous," I interrupted smoothly. "Oh, he tried, I'll give him that. He certainly had flair. But he never threw parties with hyper-beer, and he certainly didn't adopt a thief."

:Okay, okay. I concede the point. Although the word is shaych.:

I donned a triumphant smile. "Good. That means I win. And you knew what I meant."

It wasn't too hard to round up the kids. Jaym was skipping lessons—again—but Gloria and Melissa were right where I expected to find them, and Marky was playing happily with the other kids his age. I found Jaym last, hanging with a couple of his artificer friends in the Compass Rose. We trooped out to the Companions' Field. Jorjie, Corwin, and Stefany were already there, and it didn't take too long for Rachel and a few Heralds and Artificers I didn't recognize to arrive, with their advanced students in tow.

"Alright, introductions first," Jorjie said. "I think I can remember all your names. I'm Jorjie, this is Corwin. We're both Heralds. Notice the Whites. Rachel the Artificer, Stefany the Bard. Herald Kali—what are you trying to do, start a new fashion?—and her adopted brood—Jaym, Gloria, Melissa, and Marky. Other artificers—Lelan, Orville, Natana, and Daron. Heralds Yolanda, Rivan, Frank, and Arthur. Their various students. Sorry, kids, I don't know your names. You'll have to introduce yourselves."

I never did manage to remember all their names, just a few. There was a brilliant kid about two years older than Marky, named Howard, who was already showing an aptitude for inventing. He was along to learn how to improvise. Lyla was a young singer who hadn't yet been accepted at Bardic but was taking classes with the artificers. I already knew her because she was a good friend of Gloria's. Maximilian was about Jaym's age. Although he was training with the Blues, what he really wanted to do was join the Guard. Bren was a Herald-Trainee who had an exceptional skill for tracking. His Gifts were ForeSight and a bit of Bardic. He was seventeen, and about to get his Whites. Verana was another Herald-Trainee with a gift for calming situations. I suspect she had a bit of projective Empathy, but she was so subtle in its use that I couldn't tell. She was thirteen and absolutely smitten with Bren. Then there was Jenny, the cute redhead who was best friends with Verana. She had a gift for inflaming situations, and a petite body that would tempt a saint, if he happened to be male. I noticed Jaym and a Herald-Trainee—Trent, one of the older ones—eying her with definite appreciation. Oh dear Lord. I certainly had my work cut out for me.

We each had a single backpack and a bedroll. It took me about an hour to pack mine, then until sunset to help my kids with theirs. "Did you see that Jenny?" Jaym asked enthusiastically. "Now that's one hell of a girl."

"And you are going to keep your hands off her." My tone of voice warned, or else.

"Oh, come on, Mom. You're a Herald. I'm not blind. I see what happens among the trainees. Are you going to tell me that you never had a little fling when you were in Grays?"

"On my honor. Not one."

"What about that pirate captain?"

"I said I was in love with him, not that I—besides, that was a dream!"

Jaym threw up his arms in disgust. "Just my luck to be adopted by the one Herald of them all who's an old-fashioned prick."

"I'm not a prick. I'm trying to protect you. Sit. Gloria, Melissa, go help Marky pack. I'm going to have a little mother-son talk with Jaym." I waited for the girls to excuse themselves. Yikes. This was embarrassing. I took a deep breath to calm my ragged nerves. "Now, Jaym. It seems to me that people here have never heard of STDs. At least I can thank the Lord that they've heard of responsibility and pregnancy. But pregnancy isn't the only thing you have to protect against. STD stands for sexually transmitted disease. That means it's a nasty disease you can catch from your sexual partner. Think genital discoloration, or warts on your private parts. The only safe sex is no sex. Even pregnancy prevention doesn't always work."

Jaym blanched. "Is that the reason why you—?"

"Part of it. Save yourself for someone special. It'll mean a lot more. And if you want to woo Jenny, try kisses. Although even those, there's no guarantee you're safe. But at least the worst you'll get from a kiss is the flu."

"Yes ma'am."

Oh, this was so fun. Our tents were camouflage, and I was wearing some of my old clothes that I'd packed in my trunk way back when I was seventeen: a pair of army-surplus pants that I still had to take in at the hips, and a camo jacket I'd appropriated from my dad. He'd eventually given into the inevitable and given it to me for Christmas.

The main problem was the bugs. I didn't care about the not-quite-clear water—I figured that if Rachel said it was safe, that was good enough for me—nor did I mind our trail rations. At least not too badly. They were actually not too bad when swallowed whole. And followed by a large gulp of water. But the bugs were a major problem. I longed for corporate America and its insect repellent.

The kids complained, of course. Kids always complain.

Mostly it went like a normal camping trip. The fires wouldn't light, so after glancing around to make sure nobody else was watching, I motioned for Marky to join me and had him light them. Then he wanted to light things other than the logs in the firepit, and I gave him a stern talking-to.

Roasted marshmallows, of course, were a necessity. But before I let anyone touch the bag of fluffy sweetness I'd brought with me, I gave them a lecture on responsibility and how I would not condone them sneaking off together for a roll in the ferns. From the mischievous gleams in their eyes, they were already plotting how to get out from under my thumb.

I'd been all set to let Jorjie take this camping trip and run with it—it was her show, after all—but apparently, of us all, I'd somehow come out with the most camping experience. None of the others had spent several months with a bandit gang on the Karsite border. And, of course, I was the infamous Herald Kali.

For crying out loud! I'm going to be forgotten come a few generations from now. But the way things are going at the moment, you'd think I was the next Herald Vanyel.

:You are going to be very important to Valdemar: Lyrna assured me. She was munching happily with the other Companions and the artificers' horses in a grassy clearing near the campsite.

Anyway, somehow I'd ended up being the one in charge. Which meant I had the extra responsibility of organizing everything. The artificers were responsible for teaching the trainees—and me—the various uses of plants. I knew some from my stint with the bandits, but not all. I put Corwin in charge of tracking—he was the avowed master. He'd tried to teach me while we were on Circuit, but I'd persisted in cheating and had never really learned.

The second night I overheard Corwin talking to two youngsters who turned out to be Bren and Verana. It was after dark, and Marky and Howard had already been put to bed, but the rest of the camp was still up and about. "Go on, I'll keep Kali occupied. She'll never know you're gone."

I cast a despairing glance heavenward. "Why hello, Corwin," I said pleasantly, stepping into his line of sight. "Verana. Bren. And just where do you think you're going?"

Corwin rolled his eyes. "Seriously, Kali, what is it with you and your high horse?"

"I don't think they're old enough to make such decisions. Well, Bren is, but Verana isn't."

"Does this have to do with where you grew up?"

"You could say that." It more had to do with who my parents were. I may have chosen to go to hippie school, but I still thought people should make war, not love. "I'm appalled at the lack of responsibility among Heralds. Heralds. We're supposed to be the responsible ones, looking after the health of Valdemar. We could start by looking after our own health."

Well, that was one attempt thwarted. Several times I asked myself why I was even doing this. All the other Heralds thought it cute that the youngsters wanted to go explore their ripening bodies. Yeah, sure, it was cute, but one-night stands were just wrong. Especially with such young children, someone was bound to be hurt.

:They're not that much younger than you. You're only twenty-two. If you were back on Earth, you'd still have friends Bren's age.:

True enough. In my Senior year, I'd befriended plenty of seventh-graders. Now they'd be about eighteen. But that didn't mean that I'd let them get themselves in trouble.

A twig cracked nearby, followed by a soft curse. I subsumed my consciousness into the earth so that I could move silently, and snuck up on—

"Jenny. And Jaym. I thought I told you to keep it in your pants."

Jenny blushed furiously, making her face look like it was on fire. "We were just—"

"Yeah, I'm sure. You were just. Now get back to camp, and try to behave yourselves for the remainder of this camping trip. I hate to be the big bad parent, but young lady, if you try to lure my son into the woods one more time, I'm afraid I'll have to give you a whipping."

"Me lure him?" Jenny managed to squeak indignantly.

Meanwhile Jaym was trying valiantly to contain his laughter. "It's just Mother's sense of humor. For some reason she thinks she's funny."

"Oh," Jenny said weakly.

"It's alright, honey. I'm not going to sprout fangs. Just no sneaking off with my son. I want both of you to wait until you're older and can understand fully the consequences of your actions before you make such a momentous decision."

"Uh, mom? What do all those words mean? I mean, I'm doing pretty good with learning how to talk right, but my vocabulary's not all that great."

"It means I think you're too young to have sex. I want you to wait until you're older and know exactly what you want out of life." And I sincerely hoped that was the end of that.

Next morning I woke with a stiff neck and a sore back. Damn this scoliosis, anyway. No, wait, the Healers had taken care of that. Well then, damn this rocky ground. And damn this entire planet for not containing Epsom salts. Although some of their oils worked almost as well….

Lyla and Gloria were already singing up a storm. Maximilian was helping Jaym with his fencing techniques. And Melissa was feeding the Companions. She'd noticed an apple tree yesterday while her group was taking a nature hike, and had returned to harvest some for her favorite friends.

Poor Marky ended up in the top of an oak tree with his new friend, Howard. "Lyrna, I'm going to need help with this one. Honestly, I have no idea how they managed to reach those branches."

:Oh, come now. You don't need my help. You're still young and agile. Jump up and grab that branch.:

"Oh, fine. I can see you're not going to be any help." She was right, of course. I just felt old. Having a teenage son did that to a person. God save me from teenagers.

:Now maybe you know how your parents felt.:

"Oh, I knew how the felt when I was a teenager. At least I never tried to sneak off with a boyfriend. Of course, I never had a boyfriend." I smiled as I reminisced. I had sure been a handful. Once I discovered I was actually pretty, oh my goodness, the things I would wear. Although I still preferred to have ridiculously extravagant clothes that would speak for themselves. The way I saw it, I was a showcase for the clothes. Probably a holdover from when the guys at high school were blind jerks who couldn't see what was right before their eyes.

A running leap allowed me to grasp the lowest branch. Good heavens, how had little Marky and Howard managed to get themselves in this predicament?

"Mommy!" the childish wail tore at my heart. "I want down!" Poor, dear Marky.

"Just a minute, honey. Mommy's coming."

I swung my legs over the branch. From here it was actually rather easy to climb. It took two trips to get both boys down, but really, I was having fun. It had been far too long since I'd climbed a tree. It had been far too long since I'd done much of anything really fun and childish.

"You leave her alone, you hear me!" The shout was a thin wail by the time it reached me, but the voice was still identifiable as belonging to Jaym. Wonderful. No rest for the wicked. I set Howard on the ground and took off at a run. I arrived at the scene of the crime just in time to see Jaym kick eighteen-year-old Trent where it would hurt. I dragged the younger boy off his opponent while Jorjie, who had arrived at the same time, grabbed Trent.

I read Jaym the riot act over that, finishing with. "I don't care what you learned on the streets, you are never, ever to use that tactic again unless you are in fear of your life. Such a lowly attack could kill your opponent."

"But he said Jenny—" Of course. This was over Jenny. And, admittedly, Jaym probably had a good reason for taking on a trainee twice his size. He wasn't stupid. Nor was he overly hotheaded. I toned down my volume.

"I don't care what he said about Jenny. He's a Herald-Trainee, and you are to accord him respect. And if he needs a beating, you deliver it the old-fashioned way. Have I made myself clear?"

Jaym hid a smile. "Yes ma'am. Perfectly clear."

"Good. And if I catch you sneaking off with that redhead again, I'm going to tan your hide."

Now that I was actually putting forth some effort, I took to tracking like a bird to the air. I was all over it like a duck on a junebug, to borrow a not-so-well-known cliché. It's from Texas, in case any one is curious. It was much more satisfactory now that I wasn't relying on my Gift.

So it came that I fell asleep on the third day of our camping trip, thoroughly exhausted, in my tent with Marky and Melissa. Jaym and Gloria had tents with the other trainees.

:Kali, wake up.:

"Argh, it can't be dawn already. I only just closed my eyes."

A wave of fear pounded through my shields. Pain, followed by the wrenching sensation that signaled a death.

I surged to my feet, only to find myself tangled in my sleeping bag. The ensuing fight woke both Marky and Melissa.

"Mommy?" Marky asked sleepily.

"It's alright, hon. Go back to sleep," I said, then proceeded to swear at the sleeping bag—in Karsite. I couldn't swear in Valdemaran in front of my kids.

Finally free of the encumbrance, I jerked the tent flap open and rolled outside. There was Lyrna, waiting for me. I wasn't wearing any shoes—oh, who cared? There were daggers still strapped to my legs, and other knives placed elsewhere about my person. I'd gotten used to sleeping with them, and had felt naked when I did without. Thank God for small miracles. I leapt onto Lyrna's back.

Then we were racing through the woods, toward the source of the turbulent emotions. In front of us were Frank and Yolanda, riding on their respective Companions. I freed a few of my knives as we went, preparing to rescue—

:Roald. He's under attack.:

"The king? Bloody hell, Lyrna, can't you go any faster?" She was already going faster than I'd ever seen her go, but that wouldn't matter if we were too late.

:We're going to get there on time. We have to get there on time.:

Frank pulled out of sight ahead of us. Yolanda was still barely in my view, but the distance was increasing. When I turned around, I couldn't see anyone, but knew in my gut that the others were in hot pursuit.

Then we were free of the forest. Yolanda and her Companion streaked out before us, increasing her lead even more. There was a knot of men on horseback, presumably centered around Roald. A Companion reared on its hind legs. Its keening call cut me to the heart.

:Frank's dead: Lyrna reported dispassionately. Somehow she put on an extra burst of speed. We arrived just in time to see Yolanda throw herself onto a sword meant for the king.

Hell. I don't know if I'd have the guts to do something like that. Then there was no time for thoughts. Only aim and throw and I relieved myself of three throwing knives. Three would-be assassins toppled from their horses, my knives in their backs. A fourth knife went wide of the mark, and the fifth and last target dodged just in time. I blocked a sword with a long dagger. Good, fine blade. Looked like it had good balance. I wrestled the sword from its owner, then ran him through with his own blade.

Somehow I was the only Herald left, other than Roald. I interposed my newly acquired blade between him and what would have been a fatal stroke.

"You saved my life," he gasped.

"Can we talk about it later?" I demanded irritably.

Side-by-side, we fought. Gradually the assassins' numbers diminished. Then there were only the four of us—Roald, myself, and our Companions—in a field of dead bodies. There were streaks of brown and black as the surviving assassins fled the scene, only to be caught by the newly arriving Heralds.

"Thank you," he said sincerely. "Your arrival was very timely."

"Don't thank me, thank Lyrna. I wouldn't be here without her. I didn't even know she could run that fast."

:Neither did I: Lyrna added for only me to hear.

I continued, "If you've got a medal to give, braid it into her mane."

Of course the bards made a song out of it. And of course they didn't get any of the details right.

Remember, I like reviews. No matter what's in them. Even flames are hilarious—although, really, don't be that asshole. Just review. Whether it's constructive criticism or a simple, "Good job. Please update soon," it warms my heart and inspires my mind.