"Never mind your happiness; do your duty." – Peter Drucker
"Where to next?" Kensie asked as they watched the guardsmen march off on their way back to Redruth and the Companions turned down the other fork of the road. He rolled his shoulders to ease the tension in his back.
"Stowe." Bredin replied. Bredin, too, stretched to relax his muscles.
"Good." Kensie said. "Maybe we can have another nice sheep dispute."
Thanesholding was every bit as bad as expected. From the moment Bredin and Kensie arrived with Captain Tewkes-Felthan and thirty guardsmen to back them, the Holderkin glared at them, hatred in every expression and posture. The Reading of the Laws proceeded in stony silence. Only the buzzing of flies answered Bredin's voice and, once the Reading was done, every man but the Council of Patriarchs walked away without a word.
When Bredin called for any cases to be heard, the Patriarchs simply stared at him sullenly, making it clear they would bring nothing forward. Bredin proceeded directly to the tax rolls.
Despite the warning that Bredin and Kensie would review their taxes under the Truth Spell, every single man in the village – the women owned nothing – had attempted to cheat. When Bredin or Kensie placed the Truth Spell on one of the men, the others made blatant warding gestures as though the Truth Spell was an evil they could drive off.
Bredin and Kensie decided in advance that the penalties would be the standard twenty-five percent of the amount owing for a second offence. They made it plain they were treating the Holderkin exactly the same as any other Valdemaran and reminded the Holderkin the standard penalty for a third offence was fifty percent of the shortfall.
The Holderkin only narrowed their eyes slightly. They paid the assessed tax and fines wordlessly, slamming the coins down in front of Bredin. When Jonas Karas threw the coins at Bredin, Bredin calmly fined him one penny while Private Orser pinned Jonas' right arm painfully behind his shoulder blade and forced him to pick up the coins and hand them 'polite-like' to Bredin.
When Bredin announced the end of the review, the Holderkin present rose as one and walked away without a word. A few spat on the ground as they left. For their part, Bredin and Kensie were equally glad to be done.
###
Stowe was the perfect antidote to Thanesholding. The Midsummer Fair was in full swing when Bredin and Kensie arrived. Rather than interrupt the festivities, they took a break themselves and deferred the review until the fair was over. As they were outsiders, Bredin and Kensie agreed to be referees for many of the contests, though both refused to judge the pies or flower wreaths. The only 'trouble' was fending off the looks and advances of some of the women of the village (and a few of the men), which ranged from coy smiles to outright propositions.
Refreshed and relaxed, Bredin began the review in good humor. The Reading of the Laws proceeded with the usual range of questions afterwards. Until the afternoon of the second day, all went well.
Bredin was judging the case of Adam Oakes, who was appealing a fine imposed by the village council. "Just why, Goodman Oakes do you think it acceptable to dump the offal from your slaughter into Deer Creek? You know it is forbidden to befoul…."
Bredin stopped, stricken, as he felt the tolling of the Death Bell. He glanced at Kensie, whose face showed he felt it as well. Talamir was gone. Lacaral and Losanir hung their heads, ears drooping.
The villagers saw the Heralds' looks. For a moment, they waited silently for Bredin to resume. As Bredin and Kensie's faces showed their sorrow and Bredin did not speak, Toby Gosse spoke softly "Is there a problem, Herald?"
Bredin took a deep breath and rose to his feet. "I am sorry, good people, but I must close the session for today. Queen's Own Herald Talamir has died. Herald Kensie and I need some time to mourn him. We will return tomorrow to continue." Bredin gathered the papers in front of him and closed his folio.
The villagers looked at one another, not questioning Herald Bredin's word, but wondering how he and Kensie knew, guessing it was some 'Herald's Magic.' They drifted away slowly while Bredin and Kensie saddled the Companions. The villagers watched curiously as the two headed back to the waystation.
After untacking their Companions, the two sat quietly by the firepit. Lacaral and Losanir stood with them, their heads at the Heralds' shoulders. Bredin and Kensie stroked their Companions absently while sharing their memories of Talamir. Bredin told how Talamir reassured him when Bredin despaired of ever being worthy. Kensie described how the seemingly mild Queen's Own forcefully cross-examined him after the assassination attempt in the Great Square. They lapsed into silence once more, each dwelling in his own memories.
"I wonder who Rolan will Choose." They broke the silence simultaneously, then grinned briefly at their shared thought.
"Coroc would be a good Queen's Own." Kensie said. "He's lived around the Court all his life and knows the ins and outs."
"The Court isn't the whole world, or even the whole of Valdemar. Besides, isn't he still in Greys?" Bredin said. "I think my yearmate Jan would be better. Highborn and Courtly, but knows the countryside too."
Lacaral and Losanir snorted. ::Don't you think Rolan can Choose for himself?:: Lacaral said. ::Besides, Rolan has already left Haven on Search.::
Bredin and Kensie glanced sheepishly at one another. Losanir had obviously said the same to his Chosen. Lost in their thoughts, each stared absently at the empty firepit.
After a candlemark, Lacaral nudged Bredin's shoulder. ::Time to make dinner.::
"I'm not hungry."
::I am. And you both need to eat. You know that.::
"Yes, mother." Bredin got to his feet and stretched.
###
In Idlewyld, Kensie judged his first capital case. Paul Neas, the son of the local butcher, took a fancy to Emma Small. When she refused his advances, Paul found her alone. When she resisted his advances, he raped and murdered her. The evidence was clear-cut and Kensie confirmed it all under the Truth Spell. Nevertheless, Kensie's hand shook as he signed the Death Warrant.
"He was nearly as good looking as my cousin Kris. He was well off by village standards. If he had simply been a decent human being, he could have had almost any girl in the village. Why did he have to be a swine?" Kensie agonized when he and Bredin returned to the waystation that night. Losanir stood nearby, his nose touching Kensie's shoulder; Kensie stroked the Companion's muzzle.
Bredin sympathised with his friend, sharing his own experience at Hunberston. He knew Kensie had killed in combat and seen men condemned and hanged before. "It's never the same, when you are the one actually signing the warrant." He told Kensie.
Kensie shook his head. "I killed Ragnar's father. I watched Evan Aitken die horribly. This is different. This time I am actually the one responsible."
"Paul Neas was the one responsible. You said it yourself: If he had been a decent human being, this wouldn't have happened. You just happened to be the one burdened with the job of making a judgement and carrying out the law." Bredin said.
"I know. But it still bothers me. I just need time." Kensie said.
"Do you want me to finish the review?" Bredin said.
Kensie smiled wanly. "I'm a Herald. I have a job to do."
Bredin smiled and clapped him on the shoulder.
###
The summer continued much like the one before. A moon after midsummer, Herald Courier Tobias brought a letter from Count Wyeth announcing the birth of Grayson's first son, Cassius. After Bredin and Tobias congratulated Kensie on his new nephew, Tobias told them that Rolan had not yet Chosen a new Queen's Own. There were reports of sighting Rolan throughout the Kingdom, but there was no sign he had Chosen. There were even bets he had crossed the border and was seeking a new Queen's own in Rethwellan or Hardorn. The wait for Talamir's replacement brought increasing tension to the Court; everyone hoped Rolan would return soon, though Lord Orthallen took particular pains to reassure everyone that all would be well.
Whoever Rolan might Choose, Bredin and Kensie dismissed the situation as one beyond their control.
The lack of concern vanished on their second day in Naseby. When they returned to the waystation after the day's cases, Rolan stood in the clearing by the waystation, fully tacked and barded, waiting patiently for their assistance. Rolan showed no interest in them, so their initial alarm that one of them might be Chosen as the new Queen's Own quickly abated.
One of the minor duties of Herald's on circuit was to care for Companions on Search, so the two welcomed the Grove-Born with a thorough grooming and feed.
::Is his Choice nearby?:: Each of them asked their Companions. Rolan snorted.
::If he won't tell us, do you think he or we would tell you?:: Lacaral said.
::That's an evasion.:: Bredin pointed out.
::It is, isn't it?:: Lacaral winked at his Chosen.
"It appears they are determined to be inscrutable." Kensie said, confirming a similar exchange with Losanir. Both Heralds chuckled. So did all three Companions.
In the morning, they groomed and saddled Rolan before turning to their own Companions and heading back to Naseby.
Shortly after lunch, Bredin was listening to Haval Brecher's complaint over the stench from Rolf Arken's tanning leathers when Lacaral interrupted. ::Rolan has Chosen!::
Bredin's sudden broad grin startled Haval Brecher. "Is something wrong, Herald?"
"No, no, Goodman Brecher. My Companion has just given me some very good news. Please go on." Bredin glanced at Kensie, whose grin was equally broad.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a happy blur for Bredin, who could barely concentrate on his duties in his eagerness to get details from his Companion.
When Bredin closed the session for the day, they practically threw the saddles on Losanir and Lacaral before heading back to the waystation. Once out of sight of the village, they eagerly pressed their Companions for details.
::Her name is Talia. Rolan Chose her near her home village of Sensholding.:: The Companions said.
"A female Queen's Own!" Kensie said. "There hasn't been one in a century. And Holderkin! Who would have thought?"
"She must have been what we both sensed on our review there." Bredin said. "I bet it didn't sit well with the Elders." They glanced at one another, remembering the extreme patriarchal ways of the Holderkin, especially the clan in Sensholding.
::They don't know.:: Lacaral and Losanir told their Chosen. ::Rolan found her after she ran away.::
Bredin whistled and looked at Kensie once more. As the circuit Heralds, the task of telling Talia's family fell to them. One of them would have to go to Sensholding.
"You've got Naseby." Kensie said. "Losanir and I can go to Sensholding tomorrow."
Kensie left early the next morning while Bredin continued the review in Naseby. When the villagers hesitantly asked about Kensie's absence, Bredin explained as simply as possible.
The round trip to Sensholding was long and Kensie did not return until it was almost dark.
Even in the twilight, Bredin could see Kensie's unhappiness as Losanir entered the waystation clearing. "What's wrong?" He asked.
Wordlessly, Kensie dropped down from Losanir's saddle. Bredin was startled to see tears in Kensie's eyes. Reaching into the saddlebag, Kensie pulled out a scrap of paper and handed it to Bredin before burying his face in Losanir's mane.
In the light of the fire, Bredin read the note: 'Sensholding has no daughter Talia' followed by a personal mark. Dumbfounded, Bredin looked at his partner.
Still hugging Losanir, Kensie faced Bredin "How could anyone be so cruel?"
###
Captain Khal Alikan glanced downward unhappily as he rode across the border into Valdemar with a score of Sunlancers following him in a single file. Though unmarked on the hidden trail he followed, he was sure that he knew the exact point he left Karse. He hated this. He hated what Hierophant Rhithik ordered. He had seen his quarry and, for all they were his enemy, he admired them. He loathed himself for what he was bound to do, even if it was no more than seeing the Black Robe's orders completed.
Captain Alikan stole a glance at the men who rode beside him. He had nothing but contempt for the former Tedrel Captain on his left, a sell-sword without even a shred of honor. His company and 'Nation' broken, the mercenary was now reduced to intermediary between two honorless men from different countries, each of whom was willing to betray their homeland for their personal gain. Not that 'Ser' Lavrenti Ionescu showed any shame over his loss of rank and honor: He was as arrogant and unpleasant as any man Khal Alikan had ever met. Behind Lavrenti Ionescu, the mercenary's gang of thugs rode in a second file parallel to the Sunlancers. Mostly former Tedrels, they were every bit as repugnant as their leader. Khal Alikan had no doubt Lavrenti Ionescu and his gang would betray their agreement if they could gain by doing so. That was why Captain Alikan and his men rode with the mercenaries: To see that they fulfilled their deal with the Black Robe priest. Khal Alikan hated Hierophant Rhithik.
If Khal Alikan had contempt for 'Ser' Lavrenti Ionescu, the man – rather, a man-child – on his right was beneath contempt. Selling one's sword was one thing, but selling one's country for personal revenge on another man was the lowest form of treachery. For all his pretentions of rank, Sir Wallis Mittel was both useless and feckless. Captain Alikan strongly doubted that Sir Wallis had ever wielded his sword in a real fight: Obviously, he was too cowardly to have confronted his enemy in person. Which was why, Khal Alikan thought, Sir Wallis enlisted others to assist in his revenge. Worse still, the man-child appeared to be a buggerer. It took all of Khal's training and will not to spit in the traitor's face.
Ser Lavrenti Ionescu returned Captain Alikan's contempt with interest. He thought the Karsite Captain's concern for his 'honor' idiotic; war and fighting were about killing. If you were paid to do a job, do it – let the other guy be 'noble.' If your employer wanted someone dead, kill them however you could. Ser Lavrenti had seen Alikan's reaction to the whippings, tortures and burnings Rhithik ordered and viewed his squeamishness as ridiculous. Who cared about squalling brats? Ser Lavrenti could not count the number of times he had trampled children under his warhorse's hooves: It certainly helped the peasant scum understand that Ionescu would allow nothing to get in his way. The Black Robe priest might think that holding Lavrenti's whore and her brats would keep the mercenary in line, but Lavrenti could watch them burn without batting an eye. He despised Alikan's foolish worry over his wife and children.
Wallis Mittel made no effort to conceal his excitement. He did not care if the Tedrel bandits or the Karsite lancers hated him. They were foreign scum who meant nothing to him beyond a means to his end. His revenge was near, made sweeter by the conviction that Lord Orthallen would reward him. Of course, Orthallen could not actually say what he wanted – that would be indiscreet and dangerous – but he let Sir Wallis know, by gifts and nods, that Wallis' goals aligned with his. If he pleased Orthallen, Wallis might even gain higher rank than, and freedom from, his father.
###
Ragnar counted the intruders carefully. Forty men, plus the three leading the column, riding in a double file. Half, in their turbans and bright sashes, were obviously Sunlancers. Ragnar recognized the Karsite Captain from the latter's spying expedition the previous Midwinter, though the Captain had not been in uniform at the time. The others were bandits of some sort, though they looked better trained and equipped than any Ragnar had seen before. He focussed his spyglass on the bandit leader, looking for something to identify him. When the man turned to look at the men following, Ragnar saw the firedrake sigil. The commander was Tedrel and likely many of his men were as well. Tedrels and Sunlancers, obviously on a raid of some sort.
Ragnar studied the group, picking out details. He knew that he had to report this to Redruth immediately, but Lieutenant Ritter had drilled him in the need for accurate and complete information. His eye fell on the third man at the front. Ragnar gasped in shock as the warnings of his castings came back to him. This man – this obviously Valdemaran man – was the betrayer the stones had warned about. Oddly, while one part of him raged at this man, Ragnar's Gift took the knowledge coldly, fitting it into the Eagle's guidance. Ragnar sensed this was a cusp in his life.
Nothing further caught his eye. Time to go. Ragnar slipped away from his concealment and over the ridge to where his horses waited. In a moment, he was on Flash's back, racing back to Redruth with Nip galloping beside.
[Author's note: In this chapter, I have attempted to reconcile two minor plot holes in "Arrows of the Queen." The first is 'How are Companions cared for while on Search', especially on longer Searches like the one Rolan undertook for Talia. The second is the note that Kensie collects from Talia's father: Somehow, Teren shows it to Talia within a few days of her arrival in Haven, despite the fact that it took nine days for her to reach Haven. This is only possible if someone went to Sensholding shortly after Talia was Chosen. There was not enough time for a messenger to go from Haven to Sensholding and back between Talia's arrival in Haven and Teren handing her her father's note.]