Moreover, it is required of stewards that they be found faithful. – 1 Corinthians 4:2
You've got to give loyalty down, if you want loyalty up. - Donald T. Regan
Kensie found little pleasure in the Ice Festival. He was pointedly not invited to the parties and other events put on by his peers. The few who would associate with him, like Rubin Larkin and Lovat Astey, were invited to places and to join parties where Kensie was not welcome. Kensie did not begrudge Rubin and Lovat abandoning him; their rank imposed social obligations on them.
The exclusion from the social events of his peers, while not as hostile as the ostracism he endured in the first few moons after the battle, reminded him of his outcast status.
On the first day Kensie watched some of the races and, when he got cold, attended a rather silly play called "The Unknown Heir." Kensie had seen much better plays, but he had to admire the athletic ability of the actor playing the hero. There was a group of highborn near the front. All of them were among those who most disdained him, so Kensie sat in the back. He was glad he had done so when the lead actor stumbled and fell off the stage right on top of the group of highborn.
Cut off from the parties of his peers and with no classes in the Collegium or salle, Kensie had little to occupy his time. Even his daily sessions with the major-domo were short; without his father and the rest of the family, Poldara House had a much smaller staff.
Since the Manor staff had so little to do, Kensie ordered Piran Couch to see that every one of the staff had time to enjoy the Ice Festival. The major-domo grumbled and acquiesced, but could barely suppress his outrage when Kensie gave each of the household staff, right down to the pot boys, a few coins to spend at the festival. Kensie was sure that Piran Couch sent a disapproving letter to his father, but Kensie did not care. The few crowns it cost was far less than Kensie would have spent if he had been invited to one of the parties.
To pass the time, Kensie practiced alone in the salle. There were a few Heralds, uninterested in the Ice Festival, also present, but they bouted with each other.
When the weapons drill became tiresome, Kensie would go to the stable. The paths around the Palace were too icy for riding, but the nobles were all at the Ice Festival, so the école was free.
After Kensie rode Blood, Kensie spotted Tahk, but the assistant stablemaster said he was too busy to talk. When Kensie asked why, Tahk explained that he had to find a way to exercise all of the nobles' war stallions, since all of their masters were at the festival.
With a wink and a grin, Kensie asked. "Would you like some help?" There were several of the horses that Kensie admired and longed to get astride.
Tahk's eyes widened. He caught Kensie's drift immediately. "We'd have to disguise you in livery."
A quarter-candlemark later, Kensie, dressed in the livery of a stableman, rode Gartheser's brawny bay. He rode two more war stallions that afternoon before changing back into his own clothes.
For the balance of the Ice Festival, Kensie divided his time between the salle and the école.
One person was not deceived by Kensie's 'disguise'. Herald Keren had little interest in the Ice Festival herself and avoided it except when called upon to help protect the Queen. The Collegium Riding Master knew every rider in the Palace by the way they rode. She recognized Kensie on the second day. She confronted him as he dismounted from Viscount Colin Aitken's mettlesome black Ashkevron.
"You rode that horse better than anyone I have seen on his back, Lord Kensie." Keren said. "That stud has nearly killed two of Viscount Aitken's grooms. Aren't you taking a bit of a risk?" She put an emphasis on the last that told Kensie she did not mean just a risk of injury.
"He's a fine horse. He just needs a steady hand and soft correction." Kensie deliberately ignored the implied risk of being caught.
"I know that. I've thought I should take the horse in hand myself." Keren said. Kensie had seen the Herald ride; she was not overconfident. Kensie was sure that she could manage any horse.
"Why haven't you taken him on?" Kensie asked.
"Lack of time, more than anything." Keren said. She looked pointedly at Kensie. "Plus the fact that most nobles take umbrage at anyone other than themselves or their own riding masters working their horses."
Kensie flushed at her implied criticism. "I put Tahk up to it. If there is trouble, put the blame on me." The other nobles could not despise him any more than they did.
Keren snorted. "The stable hands need all the help they can get right now. No, I won't speak a word to the other highborn. I'll let the Queen's Own know. Talamir has to be prepared if there is any strife in the Court. But I think Lord Colin is going to be pleasantly surprised next time he rides."
"I don't understand. Why would Viscount Aitken be pleasantly surprised?" Kensie asked.
"Because you are a damn fine rider." Keren said. "You are schooling that nasty beast well. He's got excellent conformation and gaits, but he's been ridden by kack-handed brutes who think the only way to settle a horse like that is to put a harsh bit in its mouth and beat it into submission. It is no wonder he tries to kill anyone who gets near him. You got on his back and had him moving freely and willingly in a quarter-candlemark. Pity the poor beast has to go back into the hands of Viscount Colin."
Kensie blushed brighter with every word Keren spoke. He agreed with Chase Tanner's opinion that she was the best rider in Valdemar. Her praise meant much. "Thank you, Herald Keren. From you, that is high praise. I enjoyed riding him – and the other horses I've helped Tahk with over the last two days – but there is too much chance I'll cause trouble for the stable hands. I'd better stop."
Keren shrugged and waved off his concern. "Go ahead and ride them. But do it in your own clothes. I'll claim I dragooned you because the stable hands needed help and you were available."
Kensie went wide-eyed and grinned. "You would? Thank you!"
"I will thank you. You can handle those fractious studs better than any of the stable hands or grooms. They need proper schooling." She looked pensive for a moment. "Would you mind if I recommended you to some of the highborn that need a hand with their beasts? I haven't the time to help them all."
"You would?" Kensie was incredulous. "I'd love to! I can't thank you enough!"
Keren grinned wolfishly. "You may regret that. Some of those studs have been badly handled and will need a lot of correction. I will be glad to have them off my hands."
Keren met the Queen's Own that evening. "Grandfather, I can't say he has animal mindspeech with horses, but he corrected those studs in no time at all. He may simply be an incredibly gifted and sensitive rider or he could be unconsciously mindspeaking them. Either way, those horses were happy under him. Their usual aggressiveness disappeared and they responded willingly to everything he asked."
"Unconsciously mindspeaking? Couldn't he just be concealing the fact he was mindspeaking?" Talamir asked.
"I've watched him as you asked me to. He doesn't show the signs of it. He always speaks to that horse of his in words. I've never seen him go into the rapport trance that the gifted in our tribe did. He does pet and caress the horse, but he doesn't get that thousand-yard stare we've both seen when people mindspeak animals." Karen said.
"So why are you suggesting he might have animal mindspeech?" Talamir was unsure what Keren was driving at.
"He settled those horses too damned quickly." Keren shook her head. "He is a superb rider and I give him full credit for his abilities, but those horses –especially Viscount Aitken's Ashkevron – started with the typical bad temper of a warhorse and have had years of poor riding. Retraining them should have taken several fortnights at least. Kensie Poldara had them practically purring in a couple of sunwidths."
Talamir mused for a moment. He had asked Keren to watch for signs that Kensie had animal mindspeech after Herald Tobias had reported the events at Leuven. This was a potential sign, but an ambiguous one. "Keep watching, please, Keren. And let me know anything further."
For the remainder of the Ice Festival, Kensie divided his time between the salle and the école. It was his most enjoyable time since the battle.
Keren made good on her promise to recommend Kensie as a trainer for the horses of the highborn. Within a fortnight, Kensie was riding as many as five horses a day. Kensie did not ask a fee for his services – that would be beneath his rank. For Kensie, the opportunity to ride the splendid animals was compensation enough.
Kensie's rising reputation as a horseman helped him gain some respect from the horse enthusiasts among the highborn. Otherwise, it did him little good among his peers. Evan Aitken dubbed him 'the equerry' and sneeringly offered Kensie employment in his father's stables.
The weather warmed gradually after the end of the Ice Festival. Kensie returned to his routine of lessons and training.
Kensie wanted to join in the new rage for 'Hurlee' which swept the palace but few of his peers would tolerate his presence. Kensie could only watch the play. He preferred the version played by the Herald trainees on their Companions. No others could match the speed and energy of the trainees; it would be suicidal to attempt to match the Companions' moves with horses.
In the second moon, Countess Lara gave birth to a son, Martin. Count Wyeth wrote that he would come to Haven after Naril's wedding, which would take place in a fortnight. In the meantime, Kensie would continue to administer his father's affairs in Haven. Count Wyeth sent a list of matters he wanted Kensie to look into and approving Kensie's decisions so far. At the end of the letter, the Count commended his son for his work.
Kensie, spurred by his father's praise, threw himself into the tasks Wyeth had set. He dutifully made the rounds of his father's enterprises and earned a degree of respect from the managers by politely asking for explanations about the businesses when he did not understand.
Kensie's favorite 'task' was visiting Lace House to obtain Odelle Deschner's reports, which he did under the guise of whoring. Kensie definitely enjoyed the pleasures Lace House offered and sampled them enthusiastically. He was a welcome client – decorous, considerate and polite as well as giving generous gratuities in addition to his bill. (Though Count Wyeth had a one-third interest in Lace House, he had made it plain to his son that there were no 'family discounts.')
The duty to receive reports on Wyeth's behalf only added to Kensie's pleasure: His father had given him responsibility. Kensie was earning his position as his father's heir.
In the last sennight of the second moon, Kensie set out once more for Lace House. His father was due in Haven the next sennight; this was Kensie's last opportunity to combine the duty with his pleasures before Wyeth returned.
The evening began poorly. Geoffrey was late returning from his errands, delaying Kensie's departure. Spod's quick nod confirmed that Geoffrey had once again met with his contact at The Bird in the Hand; Kensie did not have time to obtain Spod's report. Damnably, Spod's little gang of street urchins had still not been able to track the contact or discover his identity. Spod's demeanor did not indicate any urgency, so Kensie put off getting his report until afterwards.
Kensie's palfrey was lame, so he rode Blood down to Lace House. He preferred not to ride Blood in the city both because the stallion was more likely to react aggressively to a chance encounter and because the slushy streets made the footing more treacherous, especially in the mixed rain and snow that was falling.
Though the weather was warmer than the ice festival, the icy drizzle penetrated deeply. Kensie gave a sigh of relief as he entered the warmth of Lace House.
After an enjoyable two candlemarks, Kensie prepared to leave. The rain had stopped, leaving a chill dampness in the air. Kensie bit back a curse when Spod told him that Geoffrey had nipped out to the pub instead of waiting in the servant's quarters. Kensie suspected that Odelle would report any ill-tempered outburst if he gave vent to his anger.
"Very well, Spod. We will return home without him. I am sure that…." Kensie did not finish the comment as Geoffrey appeared at that moment.
"We are leaving for Poldara House, Geoffrey. We will discuss your negligence when we get home." Kensie said. As he buttoned his cloak and mounted Blood, Kensie wondered at Geoffrey's expression, which seemed dismissive rather than abashed. Flanked by his servants, Kensie set out for home.
They proceeded up Ironmonger Road – named for the smithies that had long since moved to another part of the city – and turned onto Cheapside. The street was nearly deserted. In the darkness, Kensie saw only one person, a merchant by the cloak could see in the lights of the inns along the way, walking ahead of them.
Alberich's foresight had been twitching him all afternoon, telling him that he needed to keep an eye on Kensie Poldara. That evening, he forsook his usual haunts around Exile's gate or pursuing the actor Norris. Instead, Alberich donned the guise of a prosperous merchant and followed Kensie down to the playground of the upper nobility in the Cheapside district.
He took a table at a pub near Lace House. Most patrons sought a seat near the fireplace; the cold damp coming off the windows allowed Alberich to secure a seat with a clear view of the brothel. He sat and enjoyed the excellent fare while he waited for Kensie to finish whoring.
Alberich had already paid for his meal and wine when he saw Kensie emerge from Lace House and mount his horse. The two servants walked on either side of their master. Alberich went out into the street to watch over the young lord.
Certain that Kensie would return to Poldara House, Alberich was able to 'follow ahead' of him. Kensie was not sophisticated enough to suspect he was being watched by someone walking ahead of him.
Just after Cheapside crossed Fanny Lane, Alberich's foresight warned him that something was imminent. He glanced into the shadow between two shops. He saw and heard nothing, but his instincts told him that an attacker was there. Only his battle wisdom kept Alberich going forward; the attack was not yet; a countermove was premature. Soon, though, soon.
Ten yards behind the disguised weaponsmaster, Blood jigged anxiously as Kensie passed the same shadow. Kensie patted the stallion's shoulder, trying to calm it. He looked over at Spod "Better give him some space. He might spook and knock you flying."
Kensie turned to his other side to warn Geoffrey. His manservant was no longer beside him. Looking back, he could see Geoffrey backing away. As Kensie called out "Geoffrey, what are you doing?" the manservant turned and ran.
Geoffrey got only three strides before Kensie heard the heavy release of a crossbow and the 'thunk' as the bolt struck Geoffrey. Geoffrey cried out as he tumbled and sprawled on the slushy pavement.
A cry from ahead and the sound of metal on metal made Kensie turn back. The 'merchant' walking ahead was fighting with someone on the right side of the street.
Blood snorted and leaped forward. Kensie felt he could see through the stallion's eyes as two more figures loomed out of the shadow on the left. The stallion charged towards them as they raised their bows. Kensie reached for his sword.
Kensie closed too fast for them to aim. He heard the bows release and gasped in pain as a bolt struck his thigh. Fighting the pain and his fear, Kensie kept going. The two men turned to flee the charging warhorse; they did not have time to get back into the tight alley before Blood was on top of them.
One man screamed as Blood ran him down; the scream cut off abruptly with the crunch of bone beneath a steel-shod hoof.
By now, Kensie had his sword out. He chopped down hard at the second man; his target gave a gurgling gasp and fell forward onto the street.
Kensie turned back towards the two men fighting on the right. As he turned, the 'merchant' stabbed upwards with his poniard. The other man screamed as it stabbed into his gut, then slowly collapsed onto the ground.
His opponent dead, the 'merchant' spun, ready for more attackers. By his stance, Kensie recognized the weaponsmaster. Unsure, Kensie lowered his sword "Herald Alberich?" he said tentatively.
"Your guard, keep!" Alberich ordered harshly scanning the area for more attackers. Kensie and Alberich could hear the sound of someone running away through the slush.
A moan caught Kensie's attention. A small figure sprawled where Kensie had been when the attack began. "Spod!" Kensie cried out. Dropping his sword, he moved Blood over to where the boy lay.
Kensie attempted to swing down from the saddle. As he took his right foot out of the stirrup, he cried out in pain himself. In the heat of the fight, he had blotted out the crossbow bolt in his left thigh. With the excitement past, his injury sent pain shooting through his leg.
Kensie gritted his teeth and slid down from Blood's back. Hissing at the pain, he bent to examine Spod.
Spod had a bolt piercing his right side. Still conscious, the boy cried softly from the pain. In the brutal world Spod came from, to cry in pain was to say you were vulnerable; the vulnerable did not last long.
Alberich came and knelt beside Kensie. "Herald Al…" Kensie stopped in midword as Alberich brought a finger to his lips and shook his head sharply.
"I Goodman De Smet am. Help you I will. The watch is coming."
In the distance, Kensie could hear the whistles and shouts of the watch. Taking his cloak off, he put it over Spod. "Hold on, Spod. There will be help soon."
Alberich saw Kensie's awkward movement as he removed his cloak. "You were hit!" He touched Kensie's injured leg, which stuck out stiffly.
Kensie inhaled sharply as pain shot up his leg. "I will live." He said. "This boy will die if he doesn't see a healer soon."
The watch turned onto Cheapside. Kensie could see their lanterns waving as they ran towards him.
"Your manservant is dead." Alberich said.
"Good. Serves the bastard right." Kensie said. Alberich's eyebrows shot up. Seeing the weaponsmaster's expression, Kensie added. "I will explain later."
The watch arrived. There was a healer with them. The healer set to work on Spod, who he soon had on a stretcher. He ordered Kensie onto a second stretcher.
While the healer worked on the patients, Alberich quickly told the watch sergeant what had happened. Kensie listened and added a few points; the healer shushed him and told him to lie quietly. Kensie noted that the sergeant seemed aware who 'Goodman De Smet' was.
Once all was ready, the watchmen lifted the stretchers and set off. They headed for Poldara House as it was nearer than any house of healing. Blood paced anxiously alongside Kensie's stretcher. Kensie pulled a hand from beneath his blanket and touched the stallion's shoulder to calm it. Somewhere along the way, 'Goodman De Smet' disappeared.
Their arrival at Poldara House put the manor into an uproar. Piran Couch led the watchmen bearing Kensie's stretcher to his suite. At Kensie's insistence, Spod went with him. More healers arrived from the Collegium to assist the watch healer. Kensie would not allow them to dose him with poppy until the servants set up second bed for Spod in his room.
At last, the healer pulled the bolt from Kensie's leg and bandaged the wound. With another dose of poppy, Kensie drifted off to sleep. Piran Couch assigned one of the hall servants to sleep in a cot to watch over the patients and tend to their needs. Superstitiously, the servant insisted on a new cot to replace that of the deceased Geoffrey Toews.