Third chapter!
"Wake up, sleepyhead!" That voice – he knew it wasn't a voice he'd heard before.
Kev's eyes opened to the infirmary and a pair of girl standing beside his bed. The shorter one was Marti. The one who had made the cooing invitation to return to wakefulness was most likely her sister. The two of them looked remarkably similar.
Keighven sat up, rubbing bleary eyes.
"Much as I'd love for you to stay," Marti said in her miniature-adult voice, "you need to get on the road with Gryphon if you plan on reaching the capital before you die of old age." She rummaged in her pocket for a moment before producing a small, etched bronze square. "Give this to who asks for it in Haven, hear?" Marti said.
Keighven nodded mutely.
"I'll miss you,":Marti said, "but don't worry – we'll be seeing each other again sooner or later. I have to come by the capital every once in awhile! Now be off, scamp!" She giggled and pushed the other girl out of the infirmary, leaving him to get dressed.
In the back of his mind, he felt something suspiciously like a chuckle.
:Find something amusing ?: he asked.
:Not anymore,: came Gryphon's mind voice, overlaid with colorful splashes of happy yellow. :Well, get up. She's right. We do need to leave.:
:Whyfore?: Kev asked as he pulled on his breeches and tunic.
:Because we're not actually supposed to have stayed overnight. The only reason I did was because carrying you all the way to Haven when you had frost-burn was not going to do either of us any good.:
:Oh,: was all the reply Kev could think up, so he changed the subject. :How long will it take to get there? Haven, I mean..:
Gryphon's answer surprised him. :I plan on taking every shortcut I know, so about another day and a half. We won't stop anymore, so make sure Marti knows and gets you provisions for it. Ask for some rope too, so you can sleep.:
:Okay-: He didn't see how having rope was going to make a difference to whether he could sleep or not.
:I can't think of anything else for you to get except a warm cloak and a shirt,: Gryphon finished. :You'll be frozen in a candlemark or less if you neglect those.:
Kev sent a wordless assent to the Companion.
As it turned out, though, Keighven didn't have to ask for anything. Marti had anticipated his ever need, and then some. She brusquely herded him into a room to give him a few packs and gave him a quick hug, which he tentatively returned.
Within the span of about half a mark, he was back on Gryphon and the two of them were gone from sight of the town.
Gryphon's pace altered from a steady jog to a lope that moved the two of them along faster than Kev had ever gone in his life. He didn't cling to the saddle for support – but he dearly wanted to. Only after he discovered how easily he really could balance himself in the saddle did his give up his imagined fear of falling and began to enjoy the ride.
:About time, too,: a voice muttered in his head.
:It's not my fault you didn't tell me,: he pointed out.
:This is true, but it's still about time you began paying attention, gutter rat.: The nickname made Kev grin.
:My brothers used to call me that,: he remarked.
:I know,: Gryphon answered, rather smugly, Kev thought. :I have no idea why they chose it for you. Even half-drowned and soaked to the bone, I doubt you'd resemble a rat. Now a mouse--:
Kev laughed. He didn't know why he was laughing. It was easier than thinking, he supposed. Easier than dwelling on what was happening to him, and easier than contemplating the future.
:Tell me a story,: he begged after another mark or so of silence.
:About what: Gryphon seemed surprised by the request.
:Something. Anything.. I need something to keep me from me from thinking.:
:You can't keep from thinking forever.: There was faint disapproval in that mind voice.
"Not forever!" Kev exclaimed. "Just for now."
:Please?: he added when the Companion didn't immediately reply.
:What do you want to hear?: Gryphon asked. :History, myth?:
:Not dry history…: Kev thought for a moment. :You could tell me about you.:
Gryphon snorted derisively. :There's nothing to tell,: he said in a voice that booked no argument. :Although, I think the Founding might interest you.:
"Founding?" Kev echoed.
:The Founding of Valdemar where Baron Valdemar came here and the first Companions made their Choice.:
"I've never heard that before," Kev admitted.
For this next candlemark or so, he was completely enraptured. Along with a remarkable talent of storytelling, Gryphon could also impart basic images, which helped give the feeling that he was there, living the Founding of Valdemar. When the narrative reached its conclusion, Kev sat breathless, amazed at all the Founding represented and still more how important that was now.
:Like it?: Gryphon asked. Surprisingly, he sounded to Keighven very much like a young boy, curiously asking for a review of his newest artwork – eager, and anxious at the same time.
"Yes, Kev breathed out. "I – I've never heard anything like it…"
The next day passed swiftly – almost too swiftly. It remained a blur in Kev's mind, no matter how hard he tried to recall it. And – impossibly – they were within sight of a major city by nightfall.
Kev felt his jaw drop when he saw the place from on top of a rise just outside the farthest of the city's walls. It was huge! He'd imagined a structure similar to the training collegium he'd been in for his fighter's training… Maybe a bit larger as it had been designated as the capital. This place was easily five or six times as large – including multiplying the lands that had belonged to the Collegium!
How on earth did they fill it?
And then another thought – What the hell am I doing here?
If it had been up to him, he never would have consented to come to this place within the borders of the most famed – and feared – country in their world.
He never would have made the choice, so how - ?
:Simple,: Gryphon answered, speaking to him bluntly. :I chose to put a slight coercion on you. That's why you came – not because you designed to trust us in spite of your better instincts. So, technically, you're not responsible for your behavior in coming here, if it eases your conscience. I kidnapped you. And – in part – that's why your memory of the last few days is as hazy as I suspect it must be. I'm not as adept at putting mental coercions on people as, say, Kyrith, is.:
Keighven's head reeled. "You fooled around with my head?" he asked, feeling oddly relaxed despite his best attempts to get upset and demand to know what the hell was really going on.
:Yes,: Gryphon answered – a touch too cheerfully, Keighven thought sourly.
"So now that you've suitably mucked around with my mind, are you finished yet?" Kev demanded.
:Unfortunately, not yet. You still have some schooling to go through before you have a hope of getting rid of me.:
"School?"
:Yes again. Herald Collegium. It should take a max of about five years for you to get through it. More likely, say, two or three. You're already terribly adept at weapons work – even Featherfire will have to admit that.: There was a certain smug satisfaction that colored the Companion's mind voice that left Kev no small certainty that whoever this "Featherfire" was, he probably was a fierce fighter.
Well, if it came to a confrontation, Keighven could prove he was a fighter unmatched in any capacity.
:That probably won't be necessary,: Gryphon remarked dryly. :Featherfire'll probably give you a few students to tutor after getting a good look at you. You have the look of a warrior, not just the training.:
The Companion had been winding his way through the deserted streets, slowly approaching – something. He moved with a sense of purpose, as if he knew exactly what his goal was.
:I do,: Gryphon pointed out.
Keighven decided to ignore the remark. Instead, his thoughts fell on what this place was and why he was still – for all that he knew of the coercion – could not break free and run away. It both terrified and exhilarated him.
:There've been many to feel the same,: Gryphon said gently. :Most notably, one of my old year mates. She would've fled once, seeing the city gates as well, but Rolan wouldn't let her, and I'll be damned if I let you. So, hold on.:
Gryphon's warning came a split second before he lurched into a ground-eating lope that soon had them up near a huge palace – and a pair of people in official looking uniforms came forward.
Kev felt his heart dart into the vicinity of his boots. Men in uniforms were men in power, men to be feared. But – as they came closer, he saw that one was a man and the other a woman. Both carried swords with the ease of fighters long trained to its use, but not – he noted carefully – with the air of one who lived or died by skill alone. It was the woman who spoke first, and to the Companion rather than to Kev himself.
"So ho there!" she exclaimed, putting a friendly hand on Gryphon's head.
Kev felt an unaccounted for surge of jealousy at the friendly movement.
"Gryphon right?" she asked.
Gryphon nodded his head.
"Well, welcome back, lad," the woman said with a hearty pat to the Companions withers to go with the warm welcome. Only then did she look up at him.
"And who've we here?" she asked conversationally, smiling.
"Keighven," he answered, a bit stiffly.
"Not anyone I know," she sighed. "It looked like Gryph was headed back for my old place when he left, and I'd been terribly curious. Ah well. Let's get you settled in lad, shall we?"
Kev only just had the time to nod before he was swept down off Gryphon and into the custody of another woman, this one dressed all in white –
Oh gods. He felt himself go weak with fear unspoken and only the reassuring presence in the back of his mind kept him from bolting – or attacking.
"I hope you'll forgive me for swooping down on you from nowhere," the White-clad Herald woman said.
Kev stared at her suspiciously. With her long black hair and perfect golden-bronze complexion, she could have been one of the Plains nomads he'd heard about. He'd even seen one once, facing one across the arena back at the Fighter's Collegium.
Instead of replying to her, he nodded mutely, letting her decipher the gesture as she wished.
"I'm Joselyn, by the way," she added and before he could say anything, he was inside the Palace complex, completely stunned.
"Sorry," Joselyn said, looking a tad sheepish. "It's a long walk from some places in the complex to others, so a while back, we had mini-permanent Gates installed so we could get from one place to another quickly, but since they're not obvious, it's a little shocking going through them the first time."
While she was talking, she kept walking, and he dazedly followed behind her.
Now the pair of them were standing outside an office door. Joselyn pounded on it.
The door opened and a craggy-faced old man peeked out. "Jos?" he asked, his voice surprisingly deep.
"Whyfore ye bangin' on th' door?"
"New Trainee," Joselyn answered crisp as if reporting for duty.
The door opened completely and Kev could see the old man was also dressed in that dreaded uniform – the Whites.
He didn't wince, but it was only good training that kept him from it.
The old man looked at him appraisingly. It felt rather like he was a chicken on display at the market and this Herald one of the old ladies inspecting him for dinner. Not a pleasant sensation.
"Have you been assigned as his mentor, then?" the old man asked.
Joselyn nodded. "He needs his schedule made up in the next day or two though, because Kayla was warned by Kyrith that Regen said there's going to be a heavy influx of Trainees soon."
The old man's face became dour at that. "I'll see what I can do," he growled, "if you'll take him down to Featherfire. I'm not up to walking down there."
Joselyn nodded. "I'll do it, and thanks, Lance."
As the old man shut the door, Kev thought he heard him chuckling about something.
Then Joselyn latched onto his arm and he was off again, feeling very much as if he'd been snatched out of his own reality and placed carelessly into someone else's.
"That was Lance," Joselyn was saying. "He's my uncle, but he likes to pretend we're not related at all, and he gets into a foul mood if I dare to call him 'Uncle'! He say's it makes him feel old." She cast him a curious glance. "You're awfully quiet – something the matter? Cat got your tongue?"
Kev gave her a startled look. He hadn't heard that particular expression before.
"Never mind," Joselyn said hastily, seeming a bit contrite. Why, he couldn't imagine.
"It's late, but Featherfire should still be in the salle. Some of the Trainees here have such hectic schedules nowadays that they take weaponry after dinner. Thank the goddess I didn't have to do that – I'd have gone mad!"
The salle was a large, rather unimpressive room, except for the row of mirrors covering one whole wall from top to bottom. Those made Kev's jaw drop. He walked up to them, slowly and put out a hesitant hand to meet his own reflection. If he hadn't been one of Lord Vilmos' fighters, perhaps he wouldn't have had an appreciation of the cost in time and skill that would have gone into the making of these. But he had been – and he did.
"Like 'em, huh?" the rough female voice made him turn around, his hand unconsciously groping for a weapon he didn't have.
"You're the new one, then." The woman was sturdily built, like a great oak tree. Her hair was bound back in a single, heavy braid and it was ice white. Her golden skin seemed otherworldly in the strange half-light of the sale. She seemed to be waiting for a reply. He inclined his head briefly.
"Sword or knife?"
"Both," he replied, his hackled rising a little at the assumption that he'd only have mastered one.
Her eyebrows went up a bit.
"Formal training?" she inquired.
He nodded. She grimaced.
"Alright then. I'd have a bought with you here and now, but it's a bit dim in here and I'd rather not break the mirrors or each other. Joselyn, bring him back around noon tomorrow."
"Yes ma'am," Joselyn replied, and snapped off a quick salute. Then she turned and walked briskly out of the sale, clearly intending for him to follow her. He did, inwardly cringing about following behind a mere female… But she knew the place and he did not, so for now, they were on relatively equal ground.
"Featherfire's one of the best arms teachers there's been," she said, sounding slightly distracted as she led the way back into the huge marble building, this time by a more conventional means.
Kev did little more than grunt. If he's so wonderful, why didn't she take me to see him?
Joselyn stopped and pointed down the hallway. "Your room is third one on the left – Justyn's old room, I think it is, actually. Anyway, I'll be here tomorrow to pick you up when Morning Bells ring and we can go down to breakfast. After that, Lance should have your basic schedule and we can get you into Orientation. Should be smooth sailing after that."
She grinned and faded off down the opposite hallway, leaving Keighven feeling distinctly unfinished.
:Go open the door,: Gryphon urged.
He did as requested and found a plain room, uninhabited, bearing a set of bookshelves, a fireplace and an unornamented bed. He stared about in wonderment, realizing that he had this place to himself, and if he wished to barricade himself into the room, they could never get him to come out…
:It's actually Silver's old room, not Justyn's, but that hardly matters,: Gryphon noted crisply as Kev regarded the room. :Now get some sleep, Keighven, or you'll be worse off in the morning than you were when you fell asleep in that snow bank!:
Then, the Companion 'blanked' out of his mind and he was aware of just how supremely exhausted he really was at the moment. The bed looked so welcoming…
Author's Note: What can I say? There've been plenty of hits on the story, and thank all four horse lords I've got reviews! I LIVE for them!!! Anyone recognize names yet? You should - after all, I'm being about as obvious as I can with some of them.