And gladly wolde he lerne, and gladly teche. – Geoffrey Chaucer, The Canterbury Tales, Prologue, "The Clerk of Oxenford"
Bredin's last class of the afternoon was Basic Law.
Far from being dry and boring as Bredin expected, the class was lively. Herald Mirilin, who was the judge at the City Court in Haven, gave the class actual cases that he had judged and asked them to debate the rights and wrongs and say how they would decide the case
The trainees would argue earnestly about the cases, trying to decide which way it should go and why.
Bredin was immediately drawn into the discussion. He quickly realized what Dean Elcarth had meant when he said that the ethical training Bredin received at the Temple would make the study of law easier. Bredin quickly saw the principles involved in each case and argued his opinions logically.
Only when his students had reached a conclusion did Mirilin share his decision, which was usually the same as theirs.
The next step was for the students to propose a 'law' based on the case. After that, Mirilin would show them the actual Valdemaran law. The actual law was usually much more complicated as there would be contingencies that the students hadn't thought about, but their arguments helped the students understand how Law became Justice.
Mirilin truly loved the Law and his enthusiasm was infectious. Bredin was disappointed when the triple bell for the servers rung and he had to hurry down to the dining hall for his chores.
As he excused himself to go, Bredin caught himself. He turned to Mirilin. "Senior, that book about Hardornen Law is under a uniform on the third shelf on the right side of your closet."
Mirilin's jaw dropped. Recovering quickly, the Herald said. "Thank you Bredin. I think you better see Herald Kyril tonight. He will be most interested in your gift and can help you with it."
Bredin nodded his head. "Thank you, Herald Mirilin. I will do that." Bredin wanted to get control of his gift. It had become a curse while he still lived in Bransat; help would be a blessing.
Harrow came up to Bredin during dinner. "Lekaron told me you were going to meet Kyril after dinner. Once you're done here, meet me at the door and I'll take you to his office."
"Who is Lekaron?" Bredin asked. Before Harrow could answer, Bredin said. "Oh, your Companion. Thank you, Harrow, I really need someone to help with my gift."
Harrow's eyes widened. "If Lacaral told you that, you seem to be doing pretty well on your own."
Bredin smiled. "No, I have to touch Lacaral to hear him. But he told me Companions talk to one another when he passed a message from Kantor this afternoon, so I figured you must have been talking about what your Companion said."
Harrow grinned. "That's smart thinking, youngster. Catch you later." He tapped Bredin's shoulder and went back to the table with his yearmates.
Bredin went back to his serving chore. The work wasn't hard. He and the three others with serving duty worked in pairs, spelling each other off so that they got time to eat with their yearmates.
Bredin's yearmates lionized him for his 'triumph' over the formidable Weaponsmaster. Bredin's protests that he had caught Alberich off-guard and that the Weaponsmaster knew more than he did about unarmed combat were treated as commendable modesty.
After dinner, Harrow met Bredin as promised and took him to Kyril's tiny office. At first, Bredin was a little intimidated by Kyril, who reminded him of Count Wyeth. Like the Count, Kyril was dark haired and every inch the polished courtier. The last was a necessity as the Herald spent most of his day working with the Court. Kyril was older than the Count by several years, but his fit condition made him appear younger. The Formal Whites that Kyril wore only added to the impression.
Kyril's office was fastidiously organized. Every shelf was almost filled with hundreds of documents perfectly aligned, each one with a tag attached to it. Bredin noted that the documents on each shelf all bore tags of the same color and that shelves bearing green or red or yellow tags were all grouped together. There was only one very thin folder sitting squarely in the middle of Kyril's desk. It bore a white tag and Bredin's sharp eyes picked out his own name on the tag.
Harrow introduced Bredin and Kyril. Kyril bit his lip to avoid showing his amusement when Bredin automatically pulled his forelock while greeting the Seneschal's Herald.
"Please sit down, Bredin." Kyril said, gesturing towards a chair. Bredin sat gingerly.
Kyril noted the way Bredin reacted to his Courtly bearing. Instead of bidding the boy to relax, Kyril sensitively began with commonplaces, asking Bredin how he liked the Collegium and getting him to talk about his Choosing. "I was Chosen in the snow as well." Kyril said. "Renda came for me in the middle of a snowball fight. She was much put out by my friend Arthon hitting her in the flank with a snowball."
Bredin chuckled at Kyril's story.
Kyril questioned Bredin about his family and about Bransat, gradually putting the boy at ease. "I'm told that you already knew Ylsa, Tobias and Leo. How did you meet them?" Kyril already knew how Tobias had seen the early manifestation of Bredin's gift; he deliberately arranged the conversation so that Bredin would raise the subject.
When Bredin told how he had known the whereabouts of Countess Lora's purse, Kyril nodded. "Gifts usually begin that way – with an unexpected event when we are that age. I have made a study of gifts and try to understand how they work. I may be able to help you with yours, which is why Mirilin asked you to see me. Would you like to talk about it?"
Bredin was very eager to talk about his gift. He told Kyril about the problems it had caused in the village.
Kyril was sympathetic. "Yes. People without them think our gifts are some sort of magic spell that we can call up to work without fail." At Bredin's vigorous nod, Kyril went on. "You and I both know they can be chancy things, especially when they first appear. Would you mind telling me about every time that you can remember?"
By this time, Bredin had completely gotten over his awe of the courtly Herald. Eagerly, he poured out the stories of the manifestations of his gift. When Bredin mentioned the theft of the statues of the Twain from their temple, Kyril noticed something.
"You saw the statues being carried?" He asked. Bredin nodded. "Did you see the faces of the men carrying them?"
"No. It was dark." Bredin said. "Their lamp didn't show their faces."
Kyril looked thoughtful. "You saw their lamp, but didn't see their faces?" Bredin nodded. "How did you see the statues?"
Bredin recalled his vision. "They were kind of 'there', as if they didn't need light to be seen."
Kyril got an inward look, as though he was thinking. "So, you could 'see' the statues on their own, but the rest of the scene was as if you were standing in the forest, watching the thieves go by?"
"Yes. That's what it was like." Bredin said.
"When you 'saw' Mirilin's book this afternoon, you 'saw' it underneath one of his uniforms? How did his room appear?" Kyril looked at Bredin closely. He appeared fascinated.
Catching the Herald's eagerness, Bredin called up that afternoon's vision. "Like I was standing in the middle of it, looking into the closet. I could 'see' the closet and the shelves and the clothing on the shelves, but I could 'see' the book under the uniform as well."
"Hmm. Let me think about this for a moment." Kyril said.
Bredin stared at the Herald as he pondered what Bredin had told him.
At last, Kyril looked back at Bredin. "What I think you have is farsight and mindspeech of the type that not only allows you to mindspeak others, but also lets you get images from their minds. When people are thinking hard about something, you pick up an image of what they are thinking about. If they are thinking about an object, your farsight is drawn to that thing, which is why you see both the thing and its surroundings. Naturally, when people are worrying about something they have lost, they 'push out' mental pictures of it more strongly, so you are more likely to 'see' where it is. Does that make sense?"
"Oh, yes!" Bredin agreed fervently. "If someone was really worried or angry, it was like they were hammering a picture of what they'd lost into my mind."
"That would explain why you ran to the parents of the missing children." Kyril smiled. "Parents tend to get very worried when their children go missing."
Bredin smiled back, then sobered as he thought of something. "But I don't mindspeak very well. I can barely hear Lacaral, even when I am touching him."
"That's because your gift isn't under control." Kyril nodded knowingly. "You are not grounded and centered yet, so you can't shield yourself from people's everyday thoughts and, at the same time, you can't focus your own mind well enough to mind-hear or mindspeak. Never fear, Bredin. Lacaral told you truly: You will be able to mindspeak him freely. How do you like that?"
Bredin's grin was all the answer Kyril needed.
"Very well." Kyril said. "Let's get you started on grounding and centering."
"Lacaral mentioned it, but he didn't explain it. He wanted to, but I couldn't have kept the mindlink with him for long enough. I was already getting a headache just in the short time we were mindspeaking."
"Ah, yes." Kyril agreed. "Over-using a gift can give you a reaction headache. When gifts first appear, even a short time can over-extend you. That is why we won't practice very long tonight.
"To begin with, remember what Lacaral told you about the meditations of the monks. I want you to close your eyes and do nothing more than relax. Try to breathe deeply and slowly."
Bredin followed Kyril's instructions. Once his breathing was regular, Kyril said "Now try to 'Look' inside yourself. Try to find the point that is Bredin and nothing else." As he spoke, Kyril opened his own gift so he could 'see' Bredin's energies flowing inside the boy. As he expected, Bredin was a fluttering ball of energies with flares and flashes at a thousand points that darted, twisted, rose and fell in a cascade of a myriad colors.
Bredin's mind chased itself around inside his head. There was no focus, just motes of thought that raced randomly past each other without joining. None of this surprised Kyril, who had 'seen' the same chaotic eddies in scores of young minds before. If anything, Bredin's mind was more organized than most; the thoughts that followed one another were coherent and burned brightly with the boy's intelligence and desire to succeed. It would not take Bredin too long to learn what he must, though he would feel very frustrated until that happened.
"Now, Bredin, I want you to try slowing your thoughts down. Try to stretch each thought out for as long as it takes you to breathe in and out."
Bredin inhaled deeply, drawing a long breath and filling his lungs before exhaling gradually. To Kyril's satisfaction, the whirling thoughts in Bredin's mind slowed perceptibly.
In a careful, even voice, Kyril said. "That is excellent, Bredin. You did that very well. Can you do that some more?"
Slowly, Bredin breathed in and out again and his thoughts slowed a bit more. Kyril praised him again. At Kyril's bidding. Bredin repeated the exercise twice more. By the fourth time, there was no change.
Now Kyril changed his request, asking Bredin to think of a wheel, slowly turning around himself. Bredin did so. At first, nothing happened. The silence stretched out. Bredin breathed steadily a score of times, trying to conjure the image in his mind.
At last, a few of the thought-motes began to drift together, spiraling around a center. More joined the current. As Kyril opened his mouth to encourage Bredin, the pattern flew apart into chaos once more.
Bredin opened his eyes. "Nothing happened." He said, looking crestfallen and disappointed.
"On the contrary, Bredin. You made an excellent beginning. You were beginning to find your center." Kyril beamed at the boy.
"But I didn't feel anything." Bredin looked doubtfully at the Seneschal's Herald.
"And you won't for several moons yet. But trust me in this. I was watching you with my mind, you were finding your center. You did very well for the first attempt, but it takes a long time before you reach that point and even longer to learn to 'hold' yourself there." Kyril tried to reassure him.
"However, that is all for tonight. How do you feel?"
"I feel tired and I feel strained the way I did when I mindspoke Lacaral. I think I am getting a headache." Bredin said. "Does that mean something?"
"It means you are working with your mind. If you pushed yourself any further, you would get a reaction headache. We will practice a few more times over the next few days, but I don't want you to try anything more than closing your eyes and breathing slowly to relax. Don't try to think of anything, don't try to slow your thoughts and don't try to imagine a wheel."
Kyril stood up and Bredin followed suit. "For now, I suggest you find some of your yearmates and spend some time with them until curfew. Getting to know your yearmates and making friends here is as important a part of your training as what you learn with the Weaponsmaster."
Bredin left Kyril's office and walked back to the Collegium. He was wondering how he would find his yearmates when he saw Amos. The older trainee greeted him warmly. Bredin asked Amos how he could find his yearmates.
"I saw Lars and Jan heading towards the common room on the second floor. That might be a good place to start." Amos suggested.
Thanking Amos, Bredin headed for the spot. He saw them in one corner as he came into the room.
"Bredin! Where have you been?" Ari asked.
Bredin told them of his meeting with Herald Kyril and what had happened.
"Kyril is supposed to be the expert on gifts." Lars said. "Brion told me that everyone gets a few sessions with him when their gift starts to come out."
"I don't know if I have any gift." Jan said. "I can mindspeak Gadar a little without touching him, but there's nothing else yet."
Jill spoke up. "I have a bit of a fetching gift. My parents thought the house was haunted because things would suddenly lift in the air and drop down. I had no idea I was doing it until Hadas told me after he Chose me. They put me in to see Kyril right after I got my uniforms from Gaytha. Kyril gave me some breathing exercises to practice whenever things started moving on their own."
"That is what Kyril did with me – a bit of a breathing exercise." Bredin said. "I'm supposed to practice that for a while."
The trainees chatted for a bit longer, mostly about their homes, until Jan mentioned how he had been Chosen. Gadar had pounded on the gate of his father's manor-house a candlemark before dawn, waking the entire household. The watchman, realizing that the Companion was on search, had allowed the stallion within the yard and sent someone to fetch Baron Pik. The Baron in turn had realized it was likely that Gadar was looking for a youngster. Wanting to be fair, he had roused every child in the manor from six to twenty years old, from pot boys to his wife's handmaiden. The Baron nearly burst with pride when his eldest son was Chosen. Jan was on his way to Haven as the sun rose.
Jan's tale reminded the group of their Companions; by unanimous agreement, they headed to the stables for a quick visit to their Companions before curfew.
The Companions weren't in the stable. The evening was warm and dry, so they were relaxing in Companions' field, enjoying the days of 'false summer' before the autumn storms started in earnest.
Lacaral and the others' Companions arrived at the fence just as Bredin and his yearmates came up on the other side. The Companions positioned themselves along the fence so that their Chosen could get on their bare backs. Once everyone was mounted, they walked silently out into the field.
None of the trainees said anything, either aloud or in mindspeech. The group wandered together through the field simply enjoying the link with their Companions.
After half a candlemark, the Companions brought their Chosen back to the stable just as the warning bell for curfew rang. The trainees sighed as they slid off their bondmates' backs. After fetching a quick treat for their Companions – either an apple or pear – from the bin in the stable, Bredin and his yearmates walked slowly to their rooms.
Bredin bathed quickly, but wasn't quite ready for bed. Taking a paper and quill, he wrote a note to his parents telling them of his first two days as a Herald Trainee. Finished, he folded it and got into bed.
The next day went much like the first, though Bredin noticed many people pointing at him and whispering to their neighbors as he passed. When Bredin saw Lacaral in the afternoon, his Companion explained that people were still gossiping about Bredin tumbling the Weaponsmaster the day before.
Lacaral told Bredin to ignore it. ::They will find a new wonder before long.:: The Companion said.
For Bredin's studies, Dean Elcarth added classes in mathematics, history, commerce and field survival to Bredin's courses. He also had a class in Karsite with the Herald Chronicler to improve his fluency in that language. In some ways, Bredin found Herald Myste more intimidating than the Weaponsmaster. Elcarth promised there would be more classes later. Bredin wondered how he would master everything he needed to learn.
The third day was Sovran and the collegia took a holiday. Rather than sleep in, Bredin had a hurried breakfast from the food Mero had laid out the night before, then headed down to the stable. Lacaral had promised to show Bredin around Haven. Also, Bredin needed to visit the Home Temple of the Iron God to arrange for continuing lessons in unarmed combat; Alberich insisted that Bredin had to push his skills to mastery. After that, Bredin planned to go to the inns on the Trade Road, where Lacaral said he could find a merchant who could take his letters to his parents in Bransat for a penny or two.
In the afternoon, Bredin and his yearmates planned to go to the Home Farms for a picnic if the weather stayed good.
When Bredin arrived at the stable, there was a Herald at Lacaral's stall along with two other Companions. The young female Herald had golden blond hair and a strong, triangular face. The cloth of her uniform looked to be much like what Herald Kyril wore, though it had black piping. She was stroking Lacaral's head with one hand while the other rested on the neck of another stallion. Behind her, the third Companion waited, fully tacked. As she stroked Lacaral, the woman's face had a wistful look. Bredin approached and she looked at him with piercing blue eyes.
"Hello, I'm Bredin." He introduced himself. "Can I help you?"
"Hello, Bredin. I was just visiting Lacaral. You are the one Lacaral Chose a few days ago?" At Bredin's nod, she went on. "Lacaral and Losanir" – she gestured at the other stallion – "are two of the few living links I have with my father."
Bredin looked at her in puzzlement.
"Lacaral and Losanir are sons of my father's Companion, Lorenil."
Bredin's continued puzzlement was obvious, so the Herald went on. "My father was Sendar. I am Selenay."
Bredin was stunned. His mouth gaped open. He was talking to the Queen!
As Bredin started to bow, Selenay said "Please, Bredin. Don't bow. Outside of the throne room, I am just another Herald." Bredin stopped his bow and looked at her skeptically.
Selenay chuckled at Bredin's expression. "Really, Bredin. I mean it. I get enough bowing and kneeling and 'Your Majesty' in the Court. I come out to Companions' stable just to be Selenay for a while. Will you just be my friend when I am here, not my subject?" She smiled and held out her hand.
Still tongue-tied, Bredin gingerly took her hand and shook it. She beamed at him. Bredin blushed and smiled back.
"Thank you, Bredin. I hear you have already made a name for yourself by besting the Weaponsmaster." She said.
Bredin blushed again. "It was mostly an accident…" He began.
"Alberich didn't think so. He told me that you are very good at unarmed combat." When Bredin blushed again, Selenay said. "Don't tell Alberich I said that. He has a reputation as the Tyrant of the Salle to keep up." She winked at him and Bredin laughed.
Selenay turned to her Companion. "Caryo is getting impatient for our morning ride. We will see you around, Bredin."
Bredin bade her farewell and watched as the Queen and her Companion left the stable. Outside the door, Selenay swung up easily onto Caryo's back and the two disappeared in the direction of Companions' field.
Bredin turned to Lacaral. Placing his hand on his Companion's neck he said "You didn't tell me that your sire was King Sendar's Companion."
::It isn't important.:: Lacaral said.
Before he could continue, Bredin saw the other stallion start to move. Bredin reached out and touched the Companion. "Losanir?" He said.
When Losanir turned back to Bredin, the boy asked "You are Lacaral's brother?"
The stallion nodded. Bredin looked Losanir over. He was much more thick-set than Lacaral, with powerful hindquarters and a muscular neck. Even to Bredin's unpracticed eye, Losanir looked more like some of the warhorses he had seen the nobles riding than the typical Companion. Bredin also noticed an air of unhappiness to Losanir's expression. Leaving Lacaral for a moment, Bredin hugged Losanir's neck. "I want to be your friend, Losanir." Losanir put his head over Bredin's shoulder and 'hugged' him back, then sighed heavily and walked away.
Bredin went back to Lacaral. "What is wrong?" He asked his own Companion.
::Losanir has not Chosen yet. He is still waiting. He has thought he felt the Call a few times, but nothing has come of it yet. He is very depressed about it.::
Bredin's heart went out to Lacaral's brother. "Would you mind if I spent a little time with Losanir?" Bredin asked.
::That would be very kind of you, Heartbrother.:: Lacaral said.
Bredin fetched Lacaral's brushes and currycomb and set to work grooming his Companion. Lacaral basked in the attention.
When Lacaral arched his neck while Bredin brushed his mane, Bredin said "Now that is a Royal Pose."
Memory struck Bredin. Karen had called Lacaral 'Prince' and Jaracin had said Lacaral had 'delusions of Royalty.' The jokes were suddenly clear to Bredin.
"So, Your Highness likes to be groomed?" He teased.
::Keep that up and I'll dump you in the Terilee.:: Lacaral's mindvoice was testy.
Bredin laughed and hugged Lacaral. "Your Majesty wouldn't do that to his humble servant, would he?"
::Don't push your luck.::