All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another. - Anatole France
Although he was tired from the long day riding in the fresh air, Bredin did not sleep well that night. He woke several times from dreams that did not seem to be his own. The images were vivid but not frightening. Bredin felt like he was a spectator watching the dream rather than someone actually dreaming. Although the dreams were as confusing and chaotic as any of Bredin's usual dreams, his viewpoint seemed to skip around unpredictably. The dreams featured real people and places here in Bransat though the people were villagers he hardly knew and they were in rooms that Bredin had never entered. Even in his sleep, Bredin found himself blushing at some of what he saw. Other times, people were arguing and, at one point thought he recognised Perry Cork brawling in the street in front of the Boarshead.
Bredin finally rose well before dawn. Lars was still sleeping soundly, so Bredin went out alone to the stable and gave Lacaral and Cealine their feed. Being Companions, there was no need to muck out their stalls. The weather had warmed overnight, so Bredin lingered a while to groom Lacaral. He drew comfort from being near his Companion.
There was still no hint of dawn when Bredin returned to the house. He lit a lamp and built up the fire in the stove from the coals Zelar had banked the night before.
He put a kettle on the stove to heat water. When it was warm enough, he stripped off his shirt and used a cloth to wash his chest and neck quickly in the cold air. Now that he was back at home, he was sure that bathing was still a weekly, rather than daily, matter. His nose had gotten more sensitive during the time he was at the Collegium; he had been well aware that his father, Asen and Raidal had not changed their habits.
Zelar came in just as Bredin pulled his shirt back on and started washing his face and hands. She hugged her son. "You are up early, aren't you? I heard you go out to the stable. Is that how they train you in Haven?"
"We have to get up early, especially on days when we have morning kitchen duty, but usually not this early. I couldn't sleep. I had some very strange dreams last night. I kept seeing people here in Bransat, but they were doing really ordinary things." Bredin thought it best he did not mention some of the visions that had seemed very intimate.
"It's probably just being back home and thinking about the people you know." Zelar shrugged off Bredin's story.
The door to the bedroom opened and Lars emerged. "Thank you for the fine bed, Mistress Kase. I had a wonderful sleep."
"No nightmares?" Zelar asked with a sidelong glance at Bredin.
Lars looked puzzled. "Why no, Mistress Kase, it was very peaceful, thanks."
Before Lars could say anything more, Bredin told him of his strange dreams. Like Zelar, Lars merely shrugged and thought nothing of it.
As Lars washed in the basin Bredin had used, Enro came in, followed by Asen and Raidal.
Zelar laid out a simple oatmeal and flatbread breakfast with some honey to sweeten the oatmeal. While they ate, Lars mentioned that he thought he could easily be home by early afternoon. Bredin offered to ride with him as far as Wellmead, a village about a third of the way between Bransat and Poldara.
Enro looked up. "Before you go, young man, I should have a look at that saddle of yours. You want to make sure you have a good fit for your horse – Companion, I mean."
While Bredin grinned inwardly at his father's correction, Lars said "That is very kind of you, Master Kase, but I don't think it is necessary. Companions' saddles are made especially for them. Besides, I do have to be on the road early."
Enro waved Lars' objections away. "Won't take me more than half a candlemark. Even the best made saddle settles and changes shape over time. A few small adjustments can make all the difference in the world as far as the comfort of the rider and his mount."
Lars hesitated, torn between his desire to be home and wanting to see to Cealine's comfort. He glanced at Bredin, who grinned and nodded. "Dad is the best saddler in Poldara. The Count appointed him as his official saddler. If there is anything wrong with your saddle, he can fix it."
Bredin's endorsement persuaded Lars. "Thank you, Master Kase. That is very kind of you."
Enro, Bredin and Lars finished their breakfast just as Asen and Raidal came in to the kitchen. Enro shot a sour glance at his eldest son, but said nothing as he went to his shop. Lars fetched his saddle and Cealine followed him to the shop door. As it was still dark, Bredin had to hold the lantern as Enro took his measurements of Cealine and Lars took notes.
Lars followed Enro into the shop with Cealine's saddle. By now, Asen had lit the lights in the shop so that his father could examine the saddle closely. Bredin waited at the doorstep, looking in.
"I see you sit to the left." Enro said. "You have to be more centered to balance on her back so she can move more easily."
Cealine snorted loudly and Lars grinned. "Herald Keren has told me that a couple of hundred times." he said. "I keep trying. How could you tell that?"
Enro pointed to the left side of the seat. "See how the leather is more compressed and smoothed here? That is because you are putting more weight there. If you sit straighter, it will be easier on your hor- Companion."
Lars blushed slightly and said softly "I'd never want to hurt Cealine."
Enro made a few quick adjustments. Taking the saddle back to Cealine, he gently placed it on her back and examined how it rested there. He took it off again and went back into the shop. After a few more quick adjustments and another check of the fit, Enro was satisfied. "Not much needed. It was a pretty good fit already."
"Thank you, Master Enro." Lars said, then added "Cealine thanks you, too. How much do I owe you?"
Enro waved his hand at Lars. "Nothing. Call it a midwinter gift, if you will. Besides, I've always wanted a good look at one of those saddles." He glanced at Bredin. "I'll check your saddle later."
As Enro said this, Lars' face took on a distant look. The boy staggered slightly and looked upset.
Concerned, Enro asked. "Is something wrong lad?"
Lars shook himself. "No, no. Just a memory." Bredin looked at his yearmate curiously.
By now, the sky was beginning to lighten. The two boys saddled their Companions and prepared to ride out. Bredin told his mother he would be back by noon.
The few people on the street asked Bredin where he was going. When Bredin reassured them he was just going with his friend as far as Wellmead, the passers-by waved the two trainees on.
The two rode silently until they were a mile north of town. Lars glanced around to see if anyone was near. Behind them, he could see Count Wyeth's party which had left Bransat Manor about the same time. The Companions were moving faster than the Count, steadily increasing the distance between the trainees and the nobles.
"Bredin, I saw something in your father's shop." Lars said.
Bredin looked at Lars, puzzled by the distracted tone of his friend's voice. "Saw something? Saw what?" Bredin tried to think of anything in the shop that would be disturbing.
Lars shook his head. "Not a thing, a vision I guess you'd call it."
"A vision? You mean of the future? A foresight?"
Lars shook his head again. "No. Something that happened there. Years ago."
Bredin looked askance at his friend. "Better tell me about it."
"You were there." Lars began. "You looked younger. You were working on a piece of leather. Your little brother was there, too. You put your tool down and were reaching for another one. Your brother had it. The two of you fought. You broke your brother's arm on the leg of a table."
Bredin felt the blood drain from his face with each sentence Lars spoke. He glanced around. "Who told you about that?" He whispered, shaken by Lar's tale.
Lars' eyes went wide. "You mean it really happened? You had a fight with your brother and broke his arm?"
Tears welled up in Bredin's eyes. He looked away from his friend, then down at his hands. Both Companions' ears were swiveled towards the boys, listening to every word.
"Yes." Bredin said faintly. "Yes, I did it. How did you find out?" Bredin was sure his friend would want nothing to do with him.
"I just saw it. Like it was happening right before my eyes, all in an instant. I'd never heard anything about it before then." Lars sounded a little frightened.
::I think your friend has just had his first experience with his gift.:: Lacaral said.
"Cealine says it felt like I had a bit of Hindsight. She thinks it may be the beginning of a Gift." Lars said, unconsciously echoing Bredin's Companion.
"Hindsight?" Bredin said. "What do you mean?"
For a few moments, Lars' face took on a distant look as he mindspoke Cealine.
"She says it is an ability to see things from the past as though they were happening in front of you." Lars tried to explain what his Companion had told him. "She says that those who have it start by seeing things with strong feelings involved."
Bredin blushed again. "I was pretty mad at my brother. I felt really bad about it afterwards, though."
::If you hadn't felt bad about it, you wouldn't have been the kind of person who gets Chosen, Heartbrother.:: Lacaral's mindvoice was comforting. Bredin was reassured by Lacaral's support. Impulsively, he leaned forward and hugged his Companion's neck.
"What was that about?" Lars asked.
"Lacaral was just telling me I was right to feel sorry for what I'd done." Bredin said. "I better tell you the whole story."
Bredin told how he had fought with his brother over the pear stamp nearly five years before. He didn't excuse himself beyond saying he had lost his temper.
"I took a swing at a couple of my brothers a time or two." Lars confessed. "I wasn't any goody-goody before Cealine Chose me." He paused a moment, then laughed. "Cealine says I'm still not."
Bredin laughed with his yearmate. "The strange thing is, it may have been part of why I got Chosen later." He told Lars how his father had banished him from the shop and Father Toma had taken him in to train with the Iron Monks. He described the lessons he'd had in controlling his temper and other moral instruction at the Temple school. "So, maybe it was a good thing for me."
Lacaral had turned his ears to listen to Bredin. ::You have a good heart, Chosen, and I think you would have turned out the same.:: Lacaral reassured Bredin once more. ::However, there is truth in what you say. Father Toma, Father Milo and Brother Luca all helped you avoid going ways that could have been terribly wrong.::
Lars looked thoughtful. "I don't know, Bred, but it sounds like one of those bad things that makes you better in the long run."
Bredin felt relief that Lars was not going to condemn him. Smiling, he added. "There's another strange part, too."
"What's that?" Lars asked.
Bredin gestured back towards Count Poldara's party, which was no longer visible behind them. "The saddle that I was working on was for Lord Kensie Poldara and that horse he's riding. It was a gift for his twelfth birthday in honor of his being made Baron of Bransat. I got blood on the piece I was working on. My dad had to remake it to finish the saddle in time for the ceremony."
"Is that why you two hate each other so much?" Lars asked.
Bredin shook his head. "I don't think he ever knew about me almost ruining his saddle. We were pretty well enemies from the first time we met. He was always playing the high-and-mighty lord and picking on me and I was always losing my temper and shouting at him. Nine times out of ten when we met, there was fighting and insults.
"Even when I tried to apologize a moon ago for making up that riddle, he just shut the door in my face."
::Maybe he was only avoiding another fight.:: Lacaral suggested.
Bredin snorted. "Lacaral seems to think better of him than I do."
::And I'd like to think my Chosen is someone who could just let an old grievance die.::
"Yes, mother." Bredin retorted.
Lacaral pinned his ears and gave a small buck. "Mother?" Lars asked, wondering what Bredin meant.
"Lacaral was giving me a bit of a lecture." Bredin said. "Just like my mother used to." Lacaral bucked again, nearly unseating Bredin.
Lars laughed. "Yeah. Cealine gives me regular earfuls when she thinks I'm not up to scratch." Cealine bucked.
Laughing, the two trainees continued. About mid-morning, they stopped in Wellmead for a brief snack before parting. They agreed Lars would come back to Bransat three days after Midwinter and both of them would return to the Collegium the day after that.
Bredin and Lacaral returned to Bransat, arriving home just before noon. After some bread and cheese for lunch, Enro insisted on checking Bredin's saddle. When Bredin hesitated at the door of the shop, Enro told him to come in. "You are a Herald now, not my apprentice." His father explained. Bredin stepped in hesitantly, aware that Asen and Raidal were both giving him looks.
Enro examined the saddle for a moment. "You have got to get your seat bones under you, not let them stick out behind. Otherwise you can't balance properly." Lacaral snorted loudly from just outside as Bredin blushed, thinking of the scores of times Keren and Harrow had told him exactly that.
After a few adjustments and checking how the saddle fit on Lacaral's back, Enro pronounced himself satisfied. Lacaral, not content with passing his thanks to Enro through Bredin, gave Enro a graceful bow, extending his neck in an elegant curve. Enro said nothing to this, but Bredin could see that his father thought it a trick.
Done with his father, Bredin decided he would visit the Temple. Rhys and Tag would be busy at their father's shops until late afternoon, so Bredin could not visit with them before then. Bredin could practice with the monks and visit Father Milo and Father Luca.
As Bredin turned towards the street, Lacaral blocked his path. The Companion clearly expected Bredin to ride.
"But I am visiting my home!" Bredin protested. "Besides, it is only two hundred yards."
::Keren said you were to ride everywhere.:: Lacaral insisted. ::She did not limit that to Haven.::
In two moons, Bredin had already learned the futility of arguing with his Companion when Lacaral was firm. With an exasperated "Yes, your highness", Bredin vaulted onto his back.
Bredin spent the afternoon with the Iron Monks. He did some practice – mostly unarmed combat, but also did some sword word with Brother Manas – and had a conversation with Fathers Milo and Luca. When he mentioned his difficulty with grounding and centering, Father Milo offered to help him with meditation.
After a candlemark with the elderly Father, Bredin felt rested, but no nearer his goal.
It was now getting dark. As Bredin emerged from the Temple, Lacaral was waiting. People looked at him curiously as he mounted his Companion's bare back for the short walk home.
After a plain meal with his family, Bredin cleared the table and washed the dishes with the grudging help of Asen and Raidal, whom Enro chivvied into helping.
Done, Bredin excused himself and left to meet his friends. Rhys and Tag were just arriving at the door as Bredin stepped outside. As the three turned towards the inn, Lacaral walked in front of Bredin.
"No. I am not going to ride you to the inn!" Bredin said to his Companion. "I can't go around with my friends looking down at them."
Lacaral shook his head and stamped a hoof. ::Keren's orders...:: He began.
"I know what Keren said. But it would be just rude to insist on riding while talking to my friends." Bredin interrupted. Slyly he added "You don't want me to be rude, do you?"
::You have to be consistent.:: Lacaral said.
For the first time, Bredin sensed uncertainty in his Companion's mindvoice. Bredin pushed his point. "I promise I will ride you any time we go anywhere alone or with other people who are riding. More, I'll even promise to spend two candlemarks every day riding while we're here. But I won't look down on my friends or family."
Lacaral sighed heavily. ::Very well. Agreed.:: The Companion turned and walked back to his stall.
"What was that all about?" Rhys asked.
"I am not a good rider." Bredin began. As the three walked towards the inn, he explained his problem and Keren's solution.
"I thought it was just natural for Heralds to be good riders." Tag said.
"It isn't. We have to learn just like other people. Some are better than others. I am about the worst in my year." Bredin said.
The three reached the Boarshead and found a table. They ordered small beer, which was all that Sam Rankin would serve anyone under sixteen, and cheese bread.
Bredin's friends asked him questions about life in the Collegium and Haven. Bredin answered as well as he could, but he could see from the expressions on his friends' faces that they either didn't believe him or had no idea what he was talking about. When Bredin spoke of his law class with Herald Mirilin, he felt he might as well have been speaking Karsite.
Bredin, in his turn, asked questions about what had happened in Bransat since he left. His mother's letters had been very general and omitted much of the day to day life outside of the family. Rhys and Tag eagerly told Bredin of Kensie's fight with Perry Cork and how the miller's son had knocked him out.
They also told him of Kensie's confession to assault in the court, but when they tried to embellish the story, Perry Cork interrupted from the next table. "That's not the way it was. Sure I knocked him down after he came at me, but in the court, he manned right up and said he was wrong. That's when I changed my mind about him. I think he's got guts, no matter what anyone else says."
A few of the others jeered at Perry, who got a stubborn look on his face. Sam Rankin hurried over with a basket of cheese bread. "Here, eat this. I don't want another fight like last night."
Perry looked at the innkeeper for a moment, then picked up a piece of the bread.
As Perry turned away, Tag's face lit up. "Say, I heard a joke that I think you will enjoy, Bred. 'Broken yet upright, bloodless upon Blood, steel puts me to flight yet I will beat you with wood. What am I?' "
Bredin's face went white. "Where did you hear that?"
Tag grinned. "Geoffrey Teows – you know, Lord Kensie's manservant – was here last night. He said it's all over Haven. The answer is…"
"I know the answer." Bredin snapped. "I don't want to hear that ever again."
"Why not? When did you become a friend of Kensie Poldara?"
"I'm not his friend. But that was a nasty thing to say. I never should have made up that riddle. It's wrong and unfair." Bredin said.
Tag looked at his friend with admiration. "You made it up? What's wrong with that?"
"First, it was meant to be hurtful, even though I didn't know it was going to spread. Second, it isn't true." Bredin said.
"Isn't true? What do you mean? Everyone knows he ran in the battle." Rhys said.
"Not according to Lacaral." Bredin said. He explained what Lacaral had told him, emphasizing that his Companion said he believed Kensie's story.
When Bredin mentioned that Kensie had fought off an attacker in Leuven, Tag interrupted. "His manservant told that story last night. He said Kensie hid behind him the whole time and it was he who killed the attacker."
"I wasn't there. I didn't see it. I trust my Companion." Bredin said.
::Thank you, Chosen.::
Bredin jumped. He had never heard Lacaral when they were this far apart. When he saw the others looking at him, he explained that Lacaral had just mindspoken him and thanked him for believing.
Rhys chewed his lip. "Well, if you can't trust a Companion, I guess you can't trust anybody."
At that point, Sam Rankin came to their table. "Sorry lads, but it is Middle time. You will have to leave." County law said that those under sixteen could not be in a tavern without their parents beyond half way through the evening or 'middle time.'
The three paid the innkeeper and left the Boarshead. The three parted at the door. Bredin had not gone ten steps before Lacaral was there, insisting he ride home. Tag and Rhys snickered at their friend.
As Lacaral carried him back to his parents' house, Bredin reflected that he had changed. He'd liked meeting his old friends, but their lives and his were now different.
::I am sorry, Chosen.:: Lacaral said.
"For what?" Bredin asked.
::We take you from your homes and make you into different people. We put you in a new world and set you apart. It isn't comfortable and it is a little unfair.:: Lacaral's mindvoice carried a tone of apology.
Bredin leaned forward and hugged Lacaral's neck. ::For you, it is worth it.:: He mindspoke; words were not enough.
Lacaral replied. ::Chosen, you are worth everything to me.::