Somehow, the other's head drooped even lower.
:Kantor, I beg your pardon, too,: came the sad voice—if a voice in the mind could sob, Alberich sensed that this one was on the verge of just that. Alberich decided that enough was enough.
For whatever reason, this boy—and it might look like a horse, but it acted like a boy—had a grudge against all Karsites. Apparently he had decided on his own that Kantor had been deceived or subverted.
And he elected to take out his grievances on this Karsite—Alberich—who had somehow come within his reach. Why the child felt this way, Alberich had no idea—but it was apparently a driving passion, and had driven him to gather up a pack of his cronies to act when Alberich had unwittingly put himself in a position where he could be attacked with relative impunity.
But there was also no doubt in his mind that the boy—colt?—had been forcibly shown the error of his ways. And that his contrition was real, his repentance sincere, his shame overwhelming. And there was only one answer that Alberich could make to that.
He stepped forward, and put a hand under the colt's chin. The Companion started at his touch, and began to shake, his skin shivering with reaction, as Alberich forced his head up so that he could look into the colt's eyes.
"Pardon I give, freely," he said, as he felt the colt fighting to keep from bolting. "But more. Forgiveness I give also."
:Jasker?: prompted the stallion.
The youngster blinked, and Alberich was startled to see two crystal teardrops form in his eyes and slide down his pale, moon-silvered cheeks. :I am so sorry—thank you —:
"From you, I will have a promise in exchange," Alberich replied grimly. "Never again to act without due thought, or so terribly without honor!"
:I promise!: the young one replied fervently—but Alberich was not finished.
"And you—the rest!" he continued, raking them with as I stern a gaze as the stallion's. "Never, ever again to let one with passion lead you to unreason!"
He "heard" murmurs of assent, so subdued that he could only hearken back to the day when Berthold had discovered that some of the cadets had slipped into his personal quarters to assuage their curiosity and had been caught rifling through his possessions. Not Alberich—but he had witnessed the tail end of that confrontation, when the miscreants had been brought up before the entire corps.
"Then your punishment to this gentleman, I leave," he said. "My forgiveness you have. His—you must earn, I suspect."
The stallion nodded gravely. A few more moments passed, during which there were, no doubt, a few more silent exchanges. Then the others slunk away.
The stallion turned his attention toward Alberich and Kantor. :Brave, Kantor. And very wise, to call me, rather than take them on yourself.:
:I am glad you took no longer to arrive!: Kantor bowed his head. :Taver, they are children—and we both know how Jasker.... Well. One of us elders should have seen to him before this. We are fortunate that nothing worse came of this.:
:Probably.: The stallion's flanks heaved with a sigh. :One cannot foresee everything.:
:No. One cannot. Thank you, Taver.:
The stallion turned to Alberich, and suddenly he knew why he had that nagging sense of familiarity—
"You are of Talamir bonded, no?" he asked.
:I am. And the chief of the Companions; and as such, it was by my neglect that this child was able to menace you. So I, too, ask your forgiveness—: But Alberich interrupted him with a shaky chuckle. "Nah, who can tell, what in a boy's head will be? No need, there is. And no harm either. But, I think, good it would be to return to my place."
Taver's ears pricked forward. :You are gracious —:
"I am tired," Alberich corrected. "And late, it is. Good night, I bid you."
:Good night. And know that after this, you will find a warmer welcome among us. No matter who else troubles you, you will always be welcome among the Companions.: The great stallion ghosted off after the others, leaving Alberich alone with Kantor.
"Thank you," he said to his Companion. Kantor tossed up his head and looked satisfied, if still a bit ruffled.
:Jasker—underwent much horror at the hands of the Sunpriests,: Kantor explained. :He, and all his family. All lost, and in great fear and pain —:
Family? Companions have families? He supposed, on second thought, they had to come from somewhere. And to lose one's whole family—
:Night-demons?: he asked, with a shiver. He had seen what Night-demons left behind, or at least, that was what he had been told had happened, and had heard the things, only once, off in the far distance. He never wished to come that close again. The Sunpriests claimed that Night-demons were sent only against the traitors and heretics and enemies of Karse—but Alberich could not imagine how those ravening horrors could determine just who was a traitor, or a heretic—
:Yes,: Kantor replied, simply.
:Then I understand.: The Night-demons did not leave very much to bury; often it was only enough to tell whether the victim had been male or female, and sometimes not even that much. :I hope that Taver will not be too hard on him. Shall we go back to the salle?:
:You do have the first class in the morning,: Kantor reminded him, :I believe it would be wise.: Then, very quietly, :You are a man of much honor, Chosen.:
Alberich started. Then, slowly, smiled.
"I hope I may be," he said after a moment, "I only hope I may be."
6
ALBERICH contemplated a substantial pile of books waiting beside his chair in the sitting room with a sigh. If he'd seen half that number of books in the past several years, he'd have been very much surprised. Lessons. Classes! At his age—
Still, only fool wishes to stop learning. And he needed these classes if he was going to understand these Valdemarans.
He had two of these classes (not three!) for now, both of which entailed an enormous amount of reading. In the interests of preserving his authority as Dethor's Second, however, he was not having his classes, his lessons, with the rest of the Trainees. That idea had been suggested and discarded within two days of being officially appointed and functioning as the Weaponsmaster's Second—four days after actually accepting the job. Dethor had been the one insisting on some alternate form of tutoring, though; Alberich hadn't had anything to do with that particular decision. Not that he'd been particularly enamored of squeezing himself into a desk beside a lot of children. It wasn't just that it was undignified, it was that he needed to impress those same children with his authority, and he wasn't going to do that if he was bumbling through classes as one of their "peers." Evidently Dethor felt exactly the same, and had gotten rather testy about it.