"We must learn to live together as brothers or perish together as fools." - Martin Luther King, Jr.
Kensie repressed a sigh as Flora Peeters spoke. 'Another bloody sheep quarrel.' He thought to himself. He glanced at Losanir as the Companion blissfully allowed a tiny girl to scratch under his chin. He smiled and turned his attention back to Mistress Peeters.
Flora Peeters rambled on. "An' I needs the wool for the sweaters I makes. I has the best patterns an'…."
"Please keep to the matter at hand, Mistress Peeters." Kensie interrupted.
"Actually, I'd like to hear about her knitting patterns." Bredin spoke up. ::I'll take it from here.:: He said in mindspeech.
Kensie looked at Bredin in surprise. The two locked eyes. ::This is my village to handle!::
::Not anymore. I'm taking over.:: Bredin said.
::You can't do this!:: Kensie protested.
::I can, intern.:: Bredin said.
::Chosen, he has the right.:: Losanir said, stopping Kensie from further argument.
"Please go on, Widow Peeters." Bredin said.
Flora Peeters, who had seen the tension between the two Heralds, nervously resumed her story. It took a quarter candlemark for the other villagers to relax.
Two years ago, Toby Gosse had asked Flora to allow a few of his sheep to graze on her small plot of land, which had not been used since Bert Peeters died four years before. Flora had agreed. She had tended the sheep and used the wool for her knitting, which she sold to support herself. After selling a large part of his flock, Toby had demanded the sheep back.
Bredin questioned both of them carefully. Toby had done nothing with the sheep, other than breeding them to his rams and helping Flora with the lambing. Neither had paid anything to the other, although Flora had given Toby and his wife finely patterned sweater the past two midwinters. By careful questioning and suggestions, Bredin brokered an agreement between Toby Gosse and Flora Peeters. Flora would have the right to the half the wool from the sheep grazed on her land and Toby would pay her a fee plus a share of the sale proceeds. Toby would retain ownership of the sheep.
Kensie was still fuming when they rode out of Stowe that evening. He held his peace until they reached the waystation. There was a stony silence as they untacked the Companions. ::You two are going to have to work this out yourselves.:: was all Losanir would say.
"You said that Stowe was my village." Kensie began.
Bredin was prepared for Kensie's anger and did not rise to it. "You were bored."
"Of course I was bored." Kensie said. "She was rambling on about nothing instead of getting to the point."
"You were showing that you were bored." Bredin said. "The villagers could see it."
"So what? How many times can I hear the same arguments about sheep without going out of my mind?"
"If Lady So-and-so was chattering endlessly about her muff-dog during one of your mother's receptions, would you fidget and interrupt?" Bredin asked.
Kensie flushed. Lady Lora had reprimanded him for exactly that several years before. How could Bredin know?
::It's one of the standard examples used in the Courtly Graces classes at the Collegium.:: Losanir explained. ::You weren't the first to do it or even the ten-thousandth.::
Reassured that Bredin had not somehow spied on him, Kensie answered the question. "Of course not, that would be rude."
"So why is it any less rude to dismiss Flora Peeters? Because her speech is common and her concerns are more earthly?" Bredin imitated Gaytha.
"She was rambling on about her knitting instead of talking about the sheep." Kensie said.
"Her knitting was actually important as to why she wanted the sheep. At least, the wool was." Bredin pointed out.
Kensie opened his mouth, then closed it. He stood motionless for a moment before turning and going to the stable. As he put Losanir's saddle on, Bredin wondered where he was going. Before Bredin could say anything, Lacaral warned him to keep silent.
Kensie mounted Losanir. Instead of riding off, he and the Companion went into the middle of the clearing and began simple riding exercises. Bredin sat by the waystation and watched them. Kensie and Losanir's patterns slowly became more elaborate. Circles within circles, pirouettes, faster, slower, changing leads every three strides or two or one. As Bredin admired the beauty of the ride, he noticed Kensie's expression becoming first peaceful then joyous. Kensie and Losanir were dancing.
Losanir cantered into a halt, then rose in a perfect levade. They held the pose for a sunwidth before Losanir lowered himself to all fours. Kensie slid down off the Companion's back and wrapped his arms around Losanir's neck, burying his face in the silky mane. After a long embrace, Kensie and Losanir walked back to the stable. Bredin could hear the sounds of Kensie untacking and grooming his Companion.
Kensie and Losanir emerged from the stable. Kensie walked over and sat beside Bredin.
They watched Losanir walk to the middle of the clearing and roll vigorously. "Tell me what Herald Mani told you." Kensie said.
###
Just before they reached Naseby, Kensie spotted tracks that crossed the road and disappeared into the brush. He dismounted and knelt to examine them. Losanir bent his head to look over Kensie's shoulder.
Kensie looked up at Bredin. "Two or three adults, two or more children." He said.
"Refugees." Bredin said what they both thought. In their circuit briefing before they left Haven, Kyril had told them to expect Karsites fleeing their homeland. Leo had said the influx usually started after the snow had melted in the passes.
"These tracks are very fresh." Kensie said. "Less than a candlemark. Can you find them?"
Bredin reached out with his Farsight. He 'saw' the Karsite family trying to hide in the bushes less than fifty yards away. "Got them. They must have heard us coming." He handed the lead rope for his pack mule to Kensie before Lacaral plunged into the brush.
When he was twenty yards from the family, they realized he had found them. Panicked, they scattered, attempting to flee.
Lacaral put on a burst of speed, circling around them. He blocked the path of a man in his thirties, who stood between Lacaral and a woman the same age. The woman carried a small child in her arms. The man brandished a stick, trying to fend of Bredin. "White Demon!" He said in Karsite.
"Peace! Peace! May Vkandis bless you! You are safe. No one will harm you." Bredin replied in the same language.
The couple's faces showed their surprise at hearing kind words in their native tongue. The man still held the stick between himself and Bredin, but lowered it slightly.
Bredin jumped down from Lacaral's saddle and held his arms open in a gesture of peace. "You are in Valdemar now." He said quietly. "We won't hurt you."
"Are you a Demon Rider?" The man asked nervously.
"The Sunpriests call us that." Bredin admitted. "But the Children of the Sunlord are welcome here, so long as they do us no harm."
"How can I know that?" The man asked nervously.
"'However far you may wander, know that I am with you. You shall find My servants everywhere.'" Bredin quoted from the Writ.
Hearing Bredin quote the Writ, the man's jaw dropped. "You serve the Sunlord?" He asked incredulously.
"I am not a follower of the Sunlord, but I find much wisdom in his Writ. 'All who speak the truth and act with honor, serve Me.'" Bredin quoted.
By now, Kensie had come up with Losanir and the mules. A tiny girl perched on Losanir's saddle, clutching the pommel in fear. The woman stepped forward and the girl slid down into the woman's arms.
Bredin looked around with his Farsight. He found a young lad about thirteen watching warily from behind a tree off to their left and a young girl hiding under a bush beside the boy. He pointed in their direction. "Tell your children it is safe to come in." He said to the man.
The Karsite looked at Bredin warily.
"Please." Bredin said.
The man turned where Bredin pointed. "Lazar, Aleksa, come here."
Cautiously, the boy and girl emerged from their hiding place and made their way back to their parents. When they drew near, the girl's eyes suddenly went wide. She ran to Losanir and threw her arms around the Companion's chest. Losanir turned his head to look at her.
"Aleksa! Hell-horse!" Her mother cried out.
The girl hugged herself closer to Losanir and rubbed her cheek on his neck. She bent her head to look in Losanir's eyes. She reached out and touched his nose. "Ghost Horse." She whispered.
Kensie crouched down beside her. He pointed at Losanir and smiled. "You like?" He knew only a few words of Karsite and his accent was horrible. The girl smiled shyly and stroked Losanir's shoulder. She closed her eyes and rubbed her face against his coat. "So beautiful." She said. She inhaled deeply. "Smells nice."
Bredin laughed and translated for Kensie. Kensie laughed and said "I think he smells nice, too."
::Sometimes Chosen, you are an acceptable person.:: Losanir mocked as Bredin translated for the girl. ::She has a Healing Gift, by the way.::
While Bredin made introductions, Kensie went to the pack mules and pulled out some bread, dried fruit and water. The children ate ravenously. The parents tried to be polite and not stuff themselves. Bredin and Kensie could tell the family was desperately hungry.
As they ate, Bredin questioned the father. Jacob Steiner and his wife Veda had owned a vineyard on the south slope of the Tatras Mountains. The land had good water and the southern exposure gave them plenty of sunlight. The view from their land was spectacular.
Unfortunately, this combination of beauty and fertility had attracted the attention of the Black Robe Priest Rhithik, who was the son of Lastern, the current Son of the Sun. Rhithik had taken Jacob's land and many surrounding properties in the village of Sunblessed to build himself a new summer palace. The former owners were not compensated; Rhithik's underlings informed them they should feel privileged to give their lands to the priest, who fancied himself the natural heir to his father's throne.
Those who protested were proclaimed heretics and sent to the fires. Fearing that Rhithik might look for further victims, Jason and Veda decided to flee. Though they feared the 'White Demons', they feared the Fires more; Valdemar was the only place they were sure Rhithik would not follow them. They had travelled on foot for nearly a moon before crossing the border.
Once the family had eaten, Bredin and Kensie took them to the village of Naseby. Due to the frequent arrival of Karsite refugees, the Temple of the Lord of Light had established a lay mission in the village to assist new arrivals. Halas Bildt, an elderly man who had been a refugee himself as a teenager, welcomed the Steiners and took them into the mission.
Since the family had eaten all of Bredin and Kensie's way-food, they decided to have dinner at the local in, The Fire Cat. As they walked in, a horrified Bredin recognized Journeyman Bard Edite Rey tuning her gittern. From her look, she recognized him as well. Kensie was mildly annoyed when Bredin insisted that they take a table at the back of the room.
::You'll find out why shortly.:: Losanir snickered to Kensie.
Edite waited until the barmaid brought their meal before she struck up "The Grey Stallion".
Kensie saw Bredin flinch. "I've heard that many times." Kensie said. "I've always wanted to ask you about it."
Bredin's furious blushes told Kensie all he wanted to know.
###
Black Robe Priest Rhithik sat on the balcony of the finest home in Sunblessed. His eyes narrowed as he surveyed the workers laboring on his new palace. The progress was infuriatingly slow and not even his direst threats seemed to hurry the construction. The master builder was always stammering excuses about how 'the foundation needs time to settle' and 'the mortar needs to cure'. He ought to send a few more to the Fires to motivate the rest, but his father Lastern had told him in no uncertain terms that Rhithik had burned too many already. The other members of the conclave were complaining openly about Rhithik's 'excesses', as they called it, and Lastern was afraid of provoking a schism and clerical revolt.
Rhithik snorted his contempt of the conclave. They would learn their place when Rhithik succeeded his father on the Sun Throne. Let the conclave complain that no son had ever succeeded his father as Son of the Son! Rhithik would show them. He was born to sit on the Sun Throne.
He knew the priests of the conclave held him in contempt, scorning his learning and abilities. He had proved he could summon demons and had achieved adept rank. Granted, he could only use the smallest, tamest of nodes at the present, but Rhithik had no doubt he would soon master even the most powerful.
Not that mage skill was everything, of course. After all, his father had only the tiniest mage potential. But an adept with Rhithik's connections and knowledge of the workings of the conclave would be an unbeatable candidate when the conclave came to choose his father's successor.
Rhithik picked up the letter from his co-conspirator in Valdemar. The man had ambitions of his own, but between them, they could turn the ancient enmity between Karse and Valdemar into an alliance that would force the whole of the West into submission. The letter contained information and a plan that would serve the purposes of both Rhithik and the writer.
When the plan came to fruition, Rhithik would have proof that the Demon Riders were no match for him. It would secure Rhithik's position as his father's successor.
###
It was the last case of the day in the village of Foix.
Kensie looked at the headman intently. "Headman Wynn Jeka. I realize that you find Charly Holdcroft's behavior highly offensive. However, there is no law against it and no justification for the village council confiscating his sheep and his land."
Charly Holdcroft had been caught 'in the act' with one of his sheep. The villagers were all scandalized and, to appease them, the village council had seized his livestock and property, leaving Charly destitute. Only grudging charity from the local temple had kept Charly from starving until the Heralds arrived.
Charly made his case to Kensie, who listened carefully to his complaint, though Kensie struggled to maintain a serious demeanor. He also heard out Headman Jeka's reasoning for the actions.
Kensie looked around at the faces of the villagers. Clearly, they held Charly in contempt and wanted nothing to do with him. Behind Kensie, Bredin was absolutely silent.
"Although there is no case against Charly Holdcroft, I can see he is no longer welcome here." Charly's face showed dismay at Kensie's words.
"The actions of the village council, were still wrong. I order that the village pay Charly the full value of his sheep and his land plus five percent for the illegal seizure. His mule is to be returned to him and the village is to give him three crowns for the cost of moving to a new home."
He turned to Charly. "I think you will agree that it is better for you to find a new home. This will allow you to do so." Charly nodded sadly.
"Headman Jeka, you will consult with your council and tell me how you will pay Charly tomorrow." Kensie banged his gavel.
"Yes, Herald." The headman's lips were tight and his face showed his disapproval.
There was total silence as Kensie gathered his papers in his folder. No one said a word as he and Bredin saddled their Companions and rode out of town.
The two Heralds rode towards the waystation without speaking to each other. Kensie sensed that Bredin was struggling with something and worried about his partner's silence. Normally, Bredin would be talking with Kensie about the cases as they went. Kensie glanced at Bredin; his fellow Herald was rigid in the saddle, staring straight ahead, tight-lipped and not looking at Kensie.
'Have I offended him?' Kensie asked himself. He knew that the lower classes were more rigid in their attitudes about such things, but he assumed Heralds were more flexible. Was Bredin angry? 'Damn. I thought we were getting friendly.' Kensie thought to himself. He did not want to go back to the way they had started the circuit.
::Don't borrow trouble, Chosen.:: Losanir said.
As Kensie started to ask Losanir what he meant, they passed the one mile post from the village. Bredin exhaled explosively. He roared with laughter and doubled over Lacaral's neck. "That was unbelievable." He gasped, then laughed again. "I'm glad it was you who handled that and not me. If I'd had to open my mouth, I couldn't have stopped laughing." He slapped Kensie's leg.
Kensie grinned back at Bredin and laughed as well.
###
"So this Trainee, Skif, disguises himself as a beggar child and goes down near Exile's Gate. Sets himself up as the perfect target for the child-snatchers." Herald Courier Lena Jenius was giving Bredin and Kensie the latest stories from Haven.
"A young trainee acting as bait?" Kensie was horrified. Pike had told him a little of life on the streets of Haven. Kensie thought the risk for Skif was too great.
"A trainee isn't ready for that." Bredin agreed with Kensie.
"I felt the same when I heard." Lena said. "But Skif is tough and street wise. And Alberich was following Skif and watching over him. They were keeping in touch through their Companions. Skif has a good bond with Cymry."
"Still," Bredin said, "they were up against child snatchers. They are the most vicious of all." He shuddered, remembering Fenir Cartmill.
Lena shook her head sympathetically. "I agree. But Alberich thought it was worth the risk. We've been trying to bring down the child-snatchers for years. This looked like the perfect opportunity to catch them."
She resumed the tale. "So they grab Skif and take him to their hideout. Alberich followed and surprised them. That must have been an epic battle. Alberich against four street thugs. He held them off while most of the kiddies got away, but Skif stayed to help. Alberich took down three of them and wounded the other, but the ringleader caught Alberich just at the end.
"The ringleader pinned Alberich and was choking him. He tried to persuade Skif to throw in with him, but Skif just stalled for time until he could get in position. Skif is unbelievably good when it comes to knives. He put a throwing-knife right through Vatean's eye."
"Whose?" Kensie went pale at the name.
"Didn't I tell you? Merchant Guildmaster Vatean. He was the ringleader of the child-snatchers." Lena sneered contemptuously. "Now we know how he got so rich so fast."
Bredin did not notice Kensie's expression; he was having a recollection of his own. "Oh, Great Tholan! That explains those seals!"
Lena looked at him curiously. Bredin said. "Fenir Cartmill – the serial killer I hanged in Hunberston – was selling children to the child-snatchers. I found a merchant's seal on a money pouch. The seal had a letter 'V' on it. I wasn't able to connect it with anyone."
"That's pretty vague." Lena said. "Not really enough to point to anyone. Did you put it in your report?"
Bredin thought a moment. "I did. It's just frustrating that we couldn't get at Vatean from that."
"The people trying to find the child-snatchers were going over every report line by line. You can be sure they would have noticed that and tried to make it fit. But Vatean was so well covered that even Talamir was surprised." Lena reassured Bredin. "You did what you could."
Bredin talked with Lena until lunch. Kensie said nothing. After lunch, Lena headed off to the White Foal Pass circuit to meet with Amos Songer.
After Lena and Goral were gone, Bredin looked over at Kensie. "You've been awfully quiet."
Kensie stared at the ground. "My father told me never to have anything to do with him." He sounded distracted.
"To do with whom?" Bredin asked.
Kensie looked at Bredin. "When I was Baron. Before I was Chosen. Vatean."
"Excuse me?" Bredin was puzzled by Kensie's muttering. He could see that his partner was troubled, but couldn't make sense of what he was saying.
Kensie took a deep breath. "When I was Baron of Bransat, father talked to me about dealings among the nobility. One day, he rode out with me. We were alone. When we got to a large field, he rode out into the middle of it, so no one could come near us without being seen. He told me never, under any circumstances, have anything to do with Guildmaster Vatean, no matter what and no matter who recommended him. Now I know why. At least, I think I do."
Bredin gaped at Kensie as the implication sunk in. "You mean your father knew? Your father knew that Vatean was behind the child-snatching?" He spoke louder. "He knew and he didn't say anything?"
"I didn't say that!" Kensie snapped back defensively.
"You just said you thought he did." Bredin's anger rose.
::Chosen! Calm down!:: Lacaral said.
Bredin ignored his Companion. "Your father knew and did nothing!" He accused.
"I don't know that he did. He might not have known." Kensie shouted back.
Now both Companions were rumbling. They stood at the door of the waystation with their ears pinned; they glared at their Chosen. Kensie and Bredin weren't listening.
"So, why else would he have told you to stay away from Vatean? Why would he have to be so secretive?" Bredin demanded.
"I have no idea." Kensie replied. "My father doesn't answer to me."
"But you think it's because he knew." Bredin didn't let up.
"He might have." Kensie shook his head miserably.
"Your father kept quiet while hundreds, maybe thousands, of innocent people were kidnapped into slavery. Into child brothels. Tortured and even murdered at the whim of some pervert." Bredin spat.
"I said I don't know!" Kensie shouted. He stood, fists clenched at his sides. Bredin rose opposite him.
Lacaral and Losanir bellowed loud neighs and banged the side of the waystation.
Kensie glanced at the Companions. He took a deep breath. "I'm going outside." He went to the door and pushed past the Companions. Losanir followed him.
Bredin started after him. Lacaral stopped him at the door. ::You stay here. You need to cool down.::
Bredin glared at his Companion for a moment, then sat at the table, fuming. Lacaral said nothing.
'How could Count Wyeth have kept silent? Why wouldn't he tell?' Bredin wanted to confront the nobleman and demand answers. He tried to imagine what the Count would say. How would Count Wyeth excuse himself? He thought of himself like Herald Mirilin shredding any fabrication with a few well-considered questions.
Remembering Mirilin, Bredin thought of the classes he had taken. What was Mirilin's rule about charging someone with a crime? "Never make a charge unless you can back it up. Even if you are absolutely certain that something is true, have something to back up what you say. Making a charge without evidence is worse than saying nothing: A failed charge damages your credibility when you actually find the evidence you need." Mirilin had said.
Bredin shivered as he remembered Mirilin's next words. "And always keep in mind the possibility that you might be wrong. Some people will believe a false accusation even when someone has been proven innocent."
Bredin flinched, thinking of how the accusation of cowardice had stuck to Kensie all these years. Even today, probably a third of the nobles still deemed him a coward.
Bredin recalled Count Wyeth's scrupulous behavior on the tribunal. How Wyeth had considered every possible item that might have exonerated the accused, even though he ultimately convicted the traitors.
No, Bredin concluded, Count Wyeth Poldara was not an uncaring monster. He wasn't a saint – he could have dropped a word in someone's ear about Vatean – but he wasn't a monster. And, considering how vicious Court politics was according to Kensie, maybe Wyeth was afraid of reprisals.
::Now you are thinking like a Herald.:: Lacaral said.
Bredin rose and went to the door. He hugged Lacaral, then the Companion stood aside to let him pass.
###
Kensie pushed between Lacaral and Losanir and stumbled into the clearing surrounding the waystation. Losanir walked beside him.
'Stupid peasant.' Kensie thought, then stopped himself. It wasn't Bredin's fault. Kensie was every bit as sickened by the child-snatching as Bredin. He was angry at the suggestion that his father had covered it up. That his father had known and done nothing. But it wasn't Bredin's idea. Kensie had thought of it himself before Bredin put it into words.
Kensie flung his arms around Losanir's neck and wept. 'Why, papa, why?' Kensie asked. Kensie worshipped his father. He thought of his father as the ideal nobleman: Intelligent, loyal, just and courageous. How could his father have acted this way?
With Kensie still hugging his neck, Losanir carefully folded his legs and lay down. He nuzzled his Chosen. ::One of the hardest lessons in life is when we learn that our parents are not perfect.::
Kensie sobbed and stroked his Companion for comfort.
Kensie wasn't sure how long he lay beside Losanir before he felt a tap on his shoulder.
"Kensie. I'm sorry." Bredin said.
###
As Holderkin villages went, Karlshold wasn't bad. Kensie watched with interest as Bredin drew out the dour Patriarchs and menfolk of the village. As usual, the women and children were nowhere to be seen once the Reading of the Laws was complete.
Bredin and Kensie had shared amused looks when the tax records showed a modest increase from the previous year. They were probably still cheating, but it looked like word of what happened in Thanesholding had spread, prompting the villagers to increase their reporting just enough to suggest truthfulness while avoiding the implication that the reports of previous years had been false.
The only amusing part of the visit had been when one of the menfolk had asked about Losanir's stud fee. At least, Kensie had been amused, though Losanir had pinned his ears.
For once, the Holderkin actually brought a dispute to the Heralds. Yet another argument over sheep. Kensie watched and listened to Bredin's questioning. He admired the way that Bredin actually got the two men to work out their own agreement. So did the villagers – for once, he saw Holderkin give nods and slight smiles of approval as the two men shook hands.
"Thankee, Herald." The Patriarch shook Bredin's hand as he and Kensie prepared to head back to the waystation.
They reached the waystation and untacked the Companions. They sat by the firepit to rest for a while.
Kensie took a deep breath, preparing himself. "Bredin, I'm sorry."
"For what?" Bredin had no idea what Kensie was apologizing for.
"For being an ass. All those years in Bransat and even after you were Chosen. I was rude. I was nasty. I deliberately baited you. I was a condescending snot. I am sorry. I regret everything I said and did."
Bredin looked at Kensie in astonishment. This was the last thing he had expected. He opened and closed his mouth twice. Finally, he found words. "I'm sorry too." He managed. "I kept losing my temper and being rude right back."
Kensie held out his hand. "Friends?"
Bredin took Kensie's hand with both of his. "Friends."
Losanir and Lacaral bellowed their approval.