The Angry Boy Chapter 77
"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy."
- William Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act 1, Scene V
"I think Herald Bredin is better qualified to handle this." Mani said.
Bredin hid his surprise. It was only three sennights since Mani had scolded him for his outburst; Bredin had firmly kept his mouth shut even though this case seemed made for him.
Bredin stepped up beside Mani. He eyed the two men before him.
Lukas Nolan was the son and heir of the largest landowner in the village of Oxenor. The pudgy young man obviously thought himself above the villagers, though his family did not have noble rank. His pouty expression reminded Bredin of Kadhael Corbie. From the way the villagers looked at him, it was obvious they disliked the young man.
The other man, Paed Drake, was a local leatherworker and saddler. Nondescript and common, Paed's clothes were worn and carelessly patched. His air was lackadaisical.
Lukas Nolan had complained about the poor workmanship of a saddle made for him by Paed Drake, a local leatherworker and saddler. Lukas' mare had developed sores on her back when Lukas rode her; Lukas said that Paed had not fitted the saddle properly. Paed Drake blamed Lukas' poor riding.
"Let me see the saddle." Bredin said.
Lukas waved at his father's stableman, who brought the saddle forward. Bredin examined the saddle closely. The saddle was a mess. The stitches were loose and uneven. There were seams where it would lie on the horse's back. The padding was lumpy. The leather was stiff. The tree was crooked. Bredin's father would never have allowed such a saddle to leave his shop; Enro would have whipped an apprentice for workmanship this poor.
"How old is this saddle?" Bredin asked.
"I commissioned it in the spring." Lukas said. Paed nodded in agreement.
"How much did you pay for it?"
"I paid seven crowns five shillings." Lukas said.
"He said he would pay ten crowns." Paed Drake put in.
Bredin's eyebrows went up. The most basic saddle from his father's shop – the ones Enro left to the apprentices – cost twice that. He looked at Lukas. "Did you offer ten crowns?" He asked.
"Originally, yes." Lukas said. "When I saw how poorly made it was, I demanded a lower price."
"So, you agreed to seven crowns five when you took it as is?" Bredin said. Lukas nodded reluctant agreement.
"How often have you used it?" Bredin asked.
"I used it for a sennight in the spring, but spent the summer in Winefold with my cousin." Lukas said. "I started riding Matala again when I got back a fortnight ago."
"How many times have you ridden your mare since you got back?" Bredin asked.
"I've ridden every other day." Lukas said.
"Let me see the mare." Bredin said.
The stableman brought the mare forward. The first thing Bredin noticed was that Matala was very fat. "Did anyone exercise her while you were away?" He asked.
"No one rides my horses but me." Lukas said. His smug tone irritated Bredin, but he kept a carefully neutral expression.
Bredin ordered the stableman to hold the mare firmly. He wished he had Kensie Poldara's animal mindspeech to tell him whether the mare was in pain. He stroked her neck and withers. When he touched her back, the mare kicked and tried to snap at him. No doubt she was in pain, then. Bredin moved carefully to Matala's side, watching closely for signs of irritation as he stroked her sides. Low on her barrel, there were girth galls covered with salve, still showing bare skin and healing scabs. Bredin bit his lip.
"Where is the girth?" Bredin asked.
"Justus, fetch it." Lukas said to the stableman.
"Justus." Bredin said, catching the stableman's attention. "Do not clean the girth before you bring it to me. My father was a saddler and I will know if you have."
The stableman stared back at Bredin, glanced at his master's son, then nodded at Bredin.
While they waited for the stableman to return, Bredin continued his examination of the mare. He found no obvious signs of neglect, though she was overdue for new shoes.
Justus returned and handed Bredin the girth. Bredin concealed his distaste. The girth was dirty and old, the leather cracked and dry. Tufts of horsehair were caught in the cracks. Bredin plucked out some black hairs and glanced at the chestnut mare.
"Do you use this on other horses?" He asked.
"Of course." Lukas said. "One's as good as another."
::Come anywhere near me with the likes of that, I'd kick you to Karse.:: Lacaral said.
::I'd rather ride bareback.:: Bredin answered silently. Aloud, he said to Lukas "Do you tack up your horses yourself? Do you clean the tack after?"
"That's what a stableman is for." Lukas sneered.
Lukas Nolan's pretensions irritated Bredin. "Oh? I knew a baron who always groomed and tacked up his own horse. He was a very wealthy man, but cared enough for his horse to do it himself. Do you at least check the tack before you mount?"
"I check that it is snug." Lukas said.
"Yes. That is essential." Bredin said.
Lukas preened as if Bredin had complimented him. Lacaral and Caiseal snorted. Bredin saw Mani biting his lip.
"You said you have another horse? Let me see you ride." Bredin said. Lukas sent the stableman to bring his gelding.
While they waited, Bredin questioned Paed Drake. Paed had inherited the shop from his father, who had been his only instructor. Most of Paed's work was making and repairing harnesses for draft animals; he rarely made saddles, though he occasionally repaired them. With a few quick questions, Bredin satisfied himself that Paed Drake had almost no understanding how to fit a saddle to a horse.
When Bredin asked why he had taken Lukas Nolan's commission when he had so little experience making saddles, the leatherworker told him that he had thought saddlemaking would be more lucrative and wanted to get experience.
"I see." Bredin said.
The stableman returned with the gelding. Bredin told Lukas Nolan to mount. The young man awkwardly hauled himself onto the horse's back and sat in the saddle with his legs thrust stiffly forward. It was difficult for Bredin not to laugh; Caiseal and Lacaral whickered loudly while Mani covered his mouth. Bredin heard snickers from the villagers.
Bredin pointed at a small clearing to one side. "Go over there. Trot in a circle."
Lukas spurred the gelding hard; it ambled to the clearing. Once there, Lukas sawed on the reins and whacked the horse hard with his whip. The gelding moved into an ungainly trot. After only four strides, Bredin could stand it no longer. "Enough! Come back here."
The young man walked the horse back. "How long have you been riding?" Bredin demanded.
Lukas Nolan paused a moment, mentally calculating the time. "Ten years."
"Who taught you to ride?"
Lukas looked impatiently down at Bredin. "My father. Also, Justus a little."
"When did you last have a lesson?" Bredin asked.
"What? It was years ago! I don't need lessons." Lukas was scornful.
"Just so you are aware, there are highborn masters who still have lessons to help keep their riding correct. I have seen them in the palace. Get down." Bredin ordered.
Scowling, Lukas obeyed. The stableman took his horse.
Bredin turned to the leatherworker. "Your saddle was extremely shoddy. I have no idea what possessed you to produce such a terribly made piece of work. Saddles are a more lucrative business than ordinary leatherwork, but that is because they require careful craft and workmanship. You should learn the craft from a master rather than attempt to pass over your ignorance and learn at the expense of your customers."
Lukas Nolan smirked as he listened to Bredin's blunt appraisal of Goodman Drake. His face fell at Bredin's next words to the would-be saddler.
"However, I am not going to fine you or make you repay Master Nolan. I believe the damage that you have done to your reputation with such inferior work will follow you for many years. You will find that it is difficult to repair a damaged reputation even with years of good work."
::Kensie Poldara would certainly agree.:: Lacaral put in.
Bredin turned back to Lukas Nolan. "I likewise have no idea what possessed you to order a saddle from Goodman Drake. Perhaps you hoped to save yourself the expense of a proven saddlemaker?" When the young man flinched, Bredin knew he had guessed correctly. "You got what you paid for. You saw that the saddle was badly made, but accepted it anyways with only a small reduction in price. If you want a product of craft and experience you must pay for a tradesman worth his hire. You deserve no restitution; I am only sorry that your poor mare had to pay the price of your folly. See that she is fully healed and properly saddled before you ride her again."
The young man nodded resentfully. Bredin wasn't done with him.
"That is not the only reason her back was sore. For someone who has ridden for ten years, you are a kack-fisted brute. You ride with neither skill nor style. You sit on your horse like a sack of potatoes. You bounce so hard that not even the finest saddle could save your mount from injury. Your spurs, boots and whip are not a substitute for an effective seat. The last time I struck my Companion as you did, he dumped me in the manure pile. And I deserved it."
::And I'll do it again if you repeat the mistake.::
"Find yourself a proper riding master. I cannot stop you from riding if you will not take the trouble to learn how, but I can see to it that any horse you own is claimed in the next Lord Marshal's levy if you do not."
Lukas Nolan gaped at Bredin in outrage. "You can't do that."
"Want to bet?" Bredin said, giving Mani a sidelong glance.
"He certainly can." Mani grinned broadly.
Bredin stole a glance at the villagers. They were grinning as broadly as Mani.
"Next case." Mani said, resuming control of the hearings.
"I'm no saddler," Mani said when they got back to the waystation, "but I've done enough field repairs to Caiseal's to see that saddle was poorly made. I fully expected you to tell off the saddler. I wasn't sure whether you would make him repay Lukas Nolan or not, but your point about the ruined reputation was a good one. Well done.
"You didn't miss the fact that Lukas Nolan's poor horsemanship was as much the problem as the saddle. Telling him to learn to ride and threatening to take his horses away if he didn't was a masterstroke. Where did you get that idea?"
Bredin grinned. "When Healer Kyminn taught us about treating Companions' injuries, he told us about his time on the Lord Marshal's remount levy. He told us that one of his pleasures in that task was levying a horse was when it was being abused."
"I'm glad you thought of the horse. I probably would have missed that myself." Mani said.
##
The night was warm. In the lingering false summer, Mani and Bredin chatted idly by the firepit. The bright moonlight illuminated half the clearing; the Companions' coats glowed in the pearly light. They would spend another day and a half in Sielmingen and then head for Norflan, where they would spend Sovran at the guardpost.
Mani promised Bredin he would see a marvel just beyond Norflan, but wouldn't offer any hints. Lacaral only said ::You'll see:: when Bredin questioned him. Bredin knew that the guardpost at Norflan manned the border crossing into Iftel; he wondered what difference a line on the ground could make. Bredin had heard the stories, of course, but he didn't believe in flying monsters the size of a horse.
Lacaral snorted. His snort abruptly turned to a squeal of alarm as he raised his head in an expression of panic. An eyeblink later, Caiseal echoed Lacaral's squeal.
Images from Lacaral flooded into Bredin's mind: Losanir and Kensie, fleeing across the Great Square in Haven; A crossbow bolt embedded in Losanir's rump; Losanir limping painfully on, only to be struck by another bolt; A Herald and Companion racing forward to protect them; Kensie dismounting; Losanir collapsing onto the cobbles.
Lacaral bellowed in frustration and worry. Mani grasped Bredin's shoulders, shaking him hard and breaking the link with Lacaral. "Bredin! What's going on?"
Before Bredin could answer, Caiseal gave her Herald a hasty explanation. "Are they alright?" Mani asked. He braced himself, fearing he would sense the Death Bell at any moment.
"I don't know!" Bredin cried. He ran to Lacaral and hugged the Companion's neck. Their mutual contact reassured both. Lacaral's rapid breathing slowed as he regained his composure.
Now more coherent, Lacaral passed images to Bredin. Bredin 'saw' Kensie hugging Losanir's head as blood poured from the Companion's nostrils. He saw Healer Kyminn and another, older, Healer arrive and set to work on Losanir.
"The Healers are there for Losanir." He told Mani. He watched and listened as Lacaral passed details to him. Without breaking the link through Lacaral, Bredin reported what he was 'seeing' to Mani. When Healer Kyminn pronounced Losanir out of danger, Bredin sighed and broke the link with Lacaral.
"Losanir's safe." Bredin told Mani.
"Why did Lacaral react…?" Mani stopped. His expression told Bredin that Caiseal was speaking to him. "Ah, yes." Mani said. "I didn't realize they were brothers. They are fairly close?"
Bredin nodded. "When Losanir had the false callings, it was Lacaral who consoled him. And me, after Lacaral Chose me. I used to groom Losanir before he found Kensie Poldara."
"I thought you said you didn't like him?"
Bredin smiled sheepishly. "I didn't know Kensie was the one Losanir was seeking. It was a bit of a shock to me when Losanir showed up with Kensie on his back."
Lacaral and Caiseal snorted.
Bredin turned back to Lacaral and stroked his Companion's ear. "I may not like him, but I wouldn't wish what just happened on him. Or on Losanir."
Mani eyed Bredin speculatively.
##
They arrived at Norflan guard post in the mid-afternoon two days later. Major Eckroad welcomed them warmly. "I think it will give the men a boost to have you join us for the Sovran feast." He said.
He slapped Bredin on the shoulder. "The men heard about your rescue at that fire. They'll want to hear everything from your own lips." Over the Major's shoulder, Bredin could see Mani roll his eyes.
Bredin blushed. "It was mostly Lacaral's doing."
::Don't blame me. It was your idea.::
An orderly showed them to their quarters. "Are you the Herald that stopped the forest fire?" The orderly asked.
"The story seems to have grown a bit." Bredin said. Mani snorted.
It took only half a candlemark for them to settle in, including a quick bath. The guardpost even had a laundry, allowing Bredin and Mani to get their uniforms properly cleaned for the first time in moons. Even without their whites, the guardsmen knew who they were and greeted them enthusiastically wherever they went.
Refreshed and 'off duty', the two met near the stable. "We've got a few candlemarks before dinner. Time to introduce you to the border." Mani said.
Bredin thought that was an odd way of saying it, but he had never seen another country before. Realistically, Bredin expected that the Iftel side would look no different than the Valdemar side, but the idea fascinated him nevertheless.
Oddly, Mani left the trade road as soon as they were out of Norflan, even though there were few travellers on it. Instead, they followed game trails.
"What did they tell you about Iftel at the Collegium?" Mani asked.
Bredin shrugged. "Not much. The instructors said that the Iftelans were isolationist and secretive, but not hostile. They said there is some trade, but the traders permitted to cross the border were very close-mouthed and would not talk about what they have seen there.
"Other than the traders, they won't permit anyone, not even an ambassador, to enter."
Mani nodded. "Pretty much what they told me when I was a trainee. Pretty skimpy information, don't you think?"
Bredin hadn't thought about it before, but he agreed with Mani. "I assume the Queen has sent spies."
Mani laughed. "Just wait."
They rode another half-candlemark in silence, finally entering a clearing. Somehow, Bredin knew that the other side of the clearing was in Iftel. The trees, the bushes, everything looked exactly the same but there was something – a barrier – between Valdemar and Iftel. Bredin licked his lips.
Mani dismounted, Bredin followed suit. They walked forward and stood, stopping just an armslength from the invisible border.
"The Queen – and all the Kings and Queens before her – has sent no spies into Iftel." Mani said. "Not because we wouldn't, but because we can't."
Bredin looked at his mentor. Mani smiled at him. "Touch the barrier. Don't strike it. Just touch it."
Bredin raised a hand and cautiously reached out. Precisely where his feelings told them the barrier was, his hand stopped. He could reach no further. More, there was a presence. Not hostile, not welcoming, not intelligent, but a will. In Bredin's mind, that will said 'No.' There was no threat, no warning and no malice, but Bredin knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the presence would never let him enter Iftel.
"Now you understand." Mani said. "If only to protect Valdemar from what is on the other side, the Crown would love to know what is there. But no agent, Herald or otherwise, can get in."
"What about the traders?" Bredin asked.
Mani shook his head. "The barrier seems very particular about who and what it allows through. Beasts and wildlife may cross. Certain traders can cross. We don't know how it selects them, but they won't speak of what they've seen."
"Not even under the Truth Spell?"
Lacaral and Caiseal rumbled. ::Don't even think of trying it.:: Lacaral said.
"See?" Mani said. "They're in on this, too. They won't let us ask about Iftel under the Truth Spell."
"We can't use the Truth Spell on the traders?" Bredin wondered what a Herald would do if one of the traders committed a crime.
"We can. We just can't ask them about Iftel." Mani said.
"Why not?"
Mani nodded at the Companions. "Ask them. They won't allow it."
Bredin looked at Lacaral.
::It's not our secret.:: Lacaral said. He winked at Bredin, who rolled his eyes in response.
"So we can't find out what's on the other side. Is that all?" Bredin asked.
Mani stared across the barrier into Iftel. "Every Herald on this circuit also interned on this circuit or another on the Iftel border. When I interned with Tedric, it was on this circuit. Each Senior Herald brings his intern to this spot to introduce the intern to the barrier."
"There's more to it, isn't there?" Bredin said.
Mani snorted. "Of course. We're hoping someday the barrier will say 'Yes.'"
Bredin glanced across the barrier one more time. "Well, it didn't for me." Turning back to Lacaral, he put his foot in the stirrup and mounted.
As they left the clearing, a stag sprang out of the trees and into the clearing.
Bredin grabbed his bow and nocked an arrow. "Maybe we can bring something to the Sovran feast."
"No!" Mani slapped Bredin's bow, pointing it down before he could loose his arrow. "Never aim a weapon at the barrier."
Mani's outburst startled the stag, which leaped away, crossing the barrier. It had nearly reached the other side of the clearing when a huge creature exploded from the bush and grabbed the stag's neck in its jaws. With a shake of its head, the creature snapped the stag's neck.
At first, Bredin thought it was a great bear. The creature stood over its prey, eyeing Bredin and Mani. Bredin prepared to flee, but Lacaral stood calmly, refusing to move.
Bredin looked more carefully. It was a cat, he realized, if one could imagine a cat that stood five feet at the shoulder. Its fur was brown, except on its face and paws, which were black. It had a stubby tail and its ears were tufted. As it fixed them with its yellow eyes, Bredin saw intelligence there and with that realization, he noted that the creature bore a harness. There was a device on the harness: A shield with three swords pointed upwards and, above them, a stylized sun.
As Bredin stared at it, a man emerged from behind the creature. He carried a spear and shield. The shield also had the three upward pointing swords and sun.
The surprises were not over. From above, a loud screech filled the clearing. Like a gigantic bird of prey, another creature plunged into the clearing to land beside the cat-thing and the man. It furled its huge wings over its body, which was the size of a draft horse. Covered with dark brown feathers, it had four legs. Its head was that of a bird of prey, with a beak that looked like it could break trees. Like the cat, its yellow eyes were slitted and shone with intelligence. It wore a harness with the same device on the breastplate.
"Is that a gryphon?" Bredin almost whispered.
"It is." Mani said.
"And what is that?" Bredin nodded at the cat-creature.
::I believe it is called a ratha.:: Lacaral said. He sounded amused.
Mani dismounted cautiously. Bredin followed suit. The four walked slowly back to the barrier.
The three on the other side seemed to relax. The man removed his shield and placed it and his spear on the ground. Remembering his bow, Bredin put it on the ground as well.
They faced each other across the barrier.
"Mani." The Senior Herald introduced himself with a courteous nod. He gestured towards his Companion. "Caiseal."
Bredin followed Mani's example, introducing himself and Lacaral. Both Companions bent their right forelegs and curved their necks in a bow.
"Tashiketh." The gryphon said. He mirrored the Companions' bow, spreading his wings like a great cape.
"T'Charol." The man introduced himself next, putting his right hand to his breast and bowing his head.
"Mochghar." The ratha's voice was a guttural rasp, as though he were clearing his throat.
Both sides stared at each other in frank appraisal. T'Charol smiled politely while Bredin thought both the ratha's and the gryphon's expressions were friendly. Unable to restrain his curiosity, Bredin spoke. "Are you…?"
T'Charol raised his palm in a gesture of polite refusal. He smiled and touched his finger to his lips. He said a few words in a tongue which Bredin thought sounded much like Karsite. Bredin thought he recognized a word that sounded like the Karsite word for 'speak' together with a negation.
Putting the sound of the language and the image of the sun on their devices together, Bredin made a guess. Speaking in Karsite, he said. "I understand. I greet you, children of the Sun. May Vkandis bless you and guide you." Bredin smiled to himself as he saw the eyes of all three Iftelans widen.
T'Charol grinned and replied in Iftelan. Bredin wasn't sure, but it sounded like the Karsite courteous responsive to the blessing.
::You understand them?:: Mani asked in mindspeech. Bredin replied the same way, giving the Senior Herald his guesses but denying that he really understood their speech.
Bredin raised his right hand and made the sun-circle, then held his palm barely an inch from the barrier. T'Charol mirrored his gesture, with Mochghar and Tashiketh raising forelimbs beside T'Charol's. Mani joined them and Lacaral and Caiseal stretched their heads out with their nostrils beside their Chosen's palms.
The moment passed. With smiles and nods, all of them moved back from the barrier. The Iftelans reclaimed the stag and prepared to dress it. Mani and Bredin mounted once more. As they disappeared into the bush, the two Heralds looked back and waved. T'Charol waved back as Mochghar and Tashiketh nodded.
"I've seen a gryphon from a distance before." Mani said. "But never close enough to be sure of what I was seeing. There have been reports of sighting huge monster cats, but I don't know anyone else who has actually seen a ratha."
"There were stories told around the Collegium." Bredin said. "But no one ever believed them."
"I heard them when I was a trainee." Mani agreed. "After I got my whites, I noticed that everyone laughed at the stories – except for Heralds who had been on the circuit."
Bredin nodded. "Well, we will have a great tale to tell at the Sovran feast."
Mani snorted. "They'll think that we are the most marvellous liars that ever wore whites."
Lacaral and Caiseal whickered.