:That’s what I keep saying!:
The Companion carefully sidestepped an overly adventurous and remarkably grubby little boy. :Maybe you should try listening.:
And that was all he was willing to say.
Go not to your Companion for advice, Jors sighed. For they will tell you to figure it out for yourself.
Judgments in Appleby were, not surprisingly, mostly about apples. More surprisingly, Jors found Alyise to be an attentive listener—both to the petitioners and to him. Although she deferred to Jors as the senior Herald, she expressed her opinions clearly and concisely when asked for them and in turn asked intelligent questions when she needed more information. Having been more than a little afraid of what the day would bring, Jors was impressed and grateful that he could set aside personal doubts and concentrate on the job at hand.
Late that afternoon, when they’d finished with official business and had moved on to the more social aspects of being a Herald—trading the gossip that kept the far-flung corners of the kingdom telling the same stories—Jors glanced over at Alyise within a circle of teenage girls and wondered if it counted as a conversation when everyone seemed to be talking at once.
“Herald Jors.”
He turned to see the eldest of the village councillors holding out a cup of cider.
“Don’t worry, it’s one of this year’s first pressings. Windfall from the early apples. It has absolute no trade value, so you needn’t fear you’re being bribed.”
A tentative sip curled his tongue. “Tart,” he gasped.
“A little young,” the councillor admitted, grinning. “And if you don’t mind my saying, you seem a little young yourself to be teaching the ray of sunshine there.”
“I’ve been doing this for a while, Councillor.” On the outside, Jors remained calm and confident. Inside, a little voice was saying, Oh that’s just great. It’s obvious to everyone. “And Alyise is a trained Herald. I’m only here to help guide her through her first Circuit.”
“Oh, I’m not criticizing, lad. And given that one’s energy, it’s probably best you’re no graybeard. I imagine she’d be the death of an older man.”
The councillor obviously believed he was sleeping with Alyise. That was a belief he’d have to nip in the bud. “Heralds aren’t in the habit of taking advantage of their Interns.”
“Advantage?” The elderly councillor glanced over at Alyise and began to laugh so hard he passed a mouthful of cider out his nose. “Oh, lad,” he gasped when he had breath enough to speak again. “You are young.”
There wasn’t a lot Jors could say to that.
:You seem fine in the villages,: Gervais pointed out as they headed toward the Border.
:It’s different in the villages.: Jors told him. :We have well-defined roles and I know what I’m supposed to do.:
:You’ve always known what to do in a Waystation before. You’ve always know what to do with another Herald before.:
He glanced over at Alyise who’d turned to check on the mules. :I’ve never been responsible for another Herald before.:
His Companion sighed and raised his head so Jors could get at an elusive itch under the edge of his mane. :You’re beginning to worry me.:
There wasn’t a lot Jors could say to that either.
Six days later Alyise handed him a mug of tea and said, “Is it because you like boys? It’s just that I’ve been as obvious as I know how without coming right out and saying we should bed down together,” she explained a few moments later, after they cleaned up the mess. “I mean, I was with Jennet for seven whole months and you’re cute and well, it’s been a while, you know.”
He knew.
“Your ears are very red,” she added.
Jors attempted to explain about being responsible and not taking advantage of her while he was in at least a nominal position of power. Alyise didn’t seem to quite understand his point.
“You’re a little young to take such a grandfatherly attitude, don’t you think?”
“That’s it, exactly.”
She wrinkled her nose, confused. “What’s it?”
She was adorable when she wrinkled her nose and some of the tea had splashed on her tunic drawing his eye right to . . .
“Maybe you should talk to Donnel about it,” he choked out. “I need to check the um . . . mules.”
“I just checked them.”
“I meant the . . . um, stores!”
“Gervais explained to Donnel who explained to me and I think I understand the problem.” Alyise smiled at Jors reassuringly when he came back inside. “I was kind of dumped on you unexpectedly, wasn’t I? I mean, there you were, out riding your circuit, just the two of you hearing petitions and riding to the rescue and being guys together and all of a sudden Jennet finds out her mother is sick and you’ve got me. I know Heralds are supposed to be adaptable and all, but this is a situation that could take some getting used to for you, so I expect it’s all a matter of timing.”
“Good. So we’re um . . .” He tried, not entirely successfully, to pull her actual meaning from the cheerful flow of words.
Her smile broadened. “We’re good.”
“Okay.” Still, something felt not quite right. :Gervais?:
He could almost see his Companion roll sapphire eyes. :I dealt with it, Chosen.”
:But . . . :
:Let it go.:
Not so much advice as an unarguable instruction.
“So . . .” Jors brought his attention back to the younger Herald. “. . . there were some tax problems in the area we’re heading for next. We should go over them in case they come up again.”
“Jennet and I ran into a few problems just like this back last month. Well, not just like this, because that’s one thing I’ve learned since I’ve been out is that no two problems are exactly the same no matter how much they seem to be and . . .”
He let her words wash over him as he pulled the papers from his pack. So they were good. That was . . .
. . . good.
Why did he feel like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop?
Last year’s tax problems didn’t reoccur, but new problems arose, and Jors did his best to guide Alyise through them. She was better with people than he was and as summer passed into fall, he allowed her to hear those petitions that dealt with social problems and tried to learn from her natural charm as she learned from his experience.
Given her unflagging energy and exuberance, he felt as though he was running full out to stay ahead of her and he never felt younger or more unsuited for his position as her teacher as when he saw her in the midst of a crowd of admiring young men.
Not that she ever forgot she was a Herald on duty, it was just . . .
:Just what, Chosen?:
:You’re laughing at me again, aren’t you?:
No answer in words, just a strong feeling of amusement. Which was, of course, all the answer Jors needed.
Frost had touched the grass by the time they reached the tiny village of Halfrest, grown up not quite a generation before around a campsite that marked the halfway point on a shortcut between two larger towns. A shortcut only because the actual trade road followed the kind of ground sensible people built roads on rather than taking the direct route more suitable to goats.
Jors had a feeling that without the mule tied to her saddle, Alyise and Donnel would have been bounding like those goats from rock to rock, Alyise chattering cheerfully the entire time as they skirted the edges of crumbling cliffs.