And that was when old ... instinct? ... or was it experience? ... rescued him. When you don’t know what to do, do nothing, watch, and wait. He was not calm, but he could pretend to be. He could stay quiet, not draw attention to himself, and wait to see what happened. People always revealed what their intentions were when you did that. Always. When you did nothing, you forced them to act even when they didn’t intend to.
He sensed Dallen being startled by this reaction, and made uneasy, as if now it was the Companion who didn’t understand and had no idea of how to react.
Meanwhile, Herald Caelen, who had no idea of what was going through Mags’ mind, took his silence as assent, or something positive at least, and seemed satisfied.
“You’ll see,” Herald Caelen said with confidence. “Just give it time. Now, come along, and I’ll show you where everything is.”
The Herald walked Mags through the buildings; one thing that Mags was very glad to see was a bathing room like the one in the Guard Post. Another was a huge room devoted entirely to eating—it was shared by every person working at this place, so there were people coming and going all the time. He saw Trainees of all three sorts: Bards, Healers, and a smattering of Heralds among the blue livery of what the Herald and his own—or rather Dallen’s—memories told him were servants of the Palace. There were everything from very fine looking outfits indeed, finer than anything that Master Cole ever wore, to very rough clothing that must belong to heavy laborers. And mixed with them were men also in rough clothing spattered with paint and plaster, dusted with fine white dust or yellow sawdust. He didn’t need any prompting to know that these were the men working on those two buildings out there.
There was some separation into like groups, but they all ate the same food, it seemed, going to get it themselves at a hatch, leaving bowls and plates to be cleaned up by boys in that rough blue Palace livery.
For someone who had to learn to navigate the maze of twisting tunnels of a mine, finding his way around the “allowed” area was child’s play. Herald Caelen made it very clear that there were places he was not supposed to go, and Mags had no interest in trespassing. Instead, as he obediently went about where he was directed, collecting the things he was told he would need and bringing them back to a room that was going to be all his, shared with no one, he committed to memory every bit of the buildings and grounds that he was allowed in. And as he did so, another strange thing began to happen.
He knew this place. He knew many of the people he saw. He knew them, because Dallen knew them.
It was disorienting in a sense to share Dallen’s memories now, for these were not just the memories of putting name and purpose to things he didn’t recognize, these were immediate and personal memories. Dallen had lived here for a very long time, it seemed. It was a shock to recognize people he didn’t know, and to sense Dallen’s memories just waiting to be brought out. And every time that happened, it eroded his certainty that people could not be trusted, that these people were certainly hiding something dire and sooner or later he would find it out.
Not all the memories were “good.” He would have distrusted that, now that he was thinking for himself, everything that seemed so perfect only alarmed him the more. Except ... except ... these were a lifetime of memories, or at least, enough to equal his lifetime. How could you make all of that up?
So as he made up his room—his room, with a door he could latch from the inside or the outside!—he thought about all of this. As he slipped in as unobtrusively as possible to eat and clean up, he thought about it. And when he laid himself down in his bed, sleeping alone for the first time in his memory, he thought about it. How ... why this had happened, he could not begin to imagine—but happen, it had. And he was forced to come to the conclusion, by himself, that nothing in the world was really the way he had always thought it was.
Still, he trod warily. He woke to the first bell, dressed for the first time in one of his new uniforms, and again slipped in quietly to get food, and eat it sitting in the most remote corner he could find, watching everything and everyone as he did so. However, he was not permitted to remain in obscurity.
He noted the approach of an older boy in Trainee Grays immediately, as the fellow did not swerve off to join his presumed friends at any of the tables populated mainly by gray tunics. And when, to his alarm, he sensed that the boy was looking for him, it was all he could do to keep from bolting. He told himself firmly there was no reason to run.
Dallen, using an admonishing tone, echoed that thought. :No one here is your enemy yet, Mags. This boy is just going to show you where things are.:
:But I know where things are!: he protested, finally mindspeaking comfortably with his companion. He couldn’t hear Dallen’s snort, but he could sense it easily enough.
Too late for anything more, the rangy, rawboned blond boy stopped at his table and gave him a friendly nod. “Trainee Mags?”
Mags ducked his head by way of answer. That seemed enough for the boy.
“I’m here to show you about.” He took a scrap of paper out of a pocket and perused it. “Your first class’s at Old Bardic. You done?”
By way of answer, Mags stood up, plate, bowl and cup in hand. Taking that as a “yes,” the boy led the way out of the building.
More of Dallen’s memories guided him. It seemed that the buildings once occupied by the Bardic and Healers’ Collegia were being replaced. Classes were still being held in “Old” Bardic Collegium; it would not be torn down until the replacement was finished. It was set very near the Palace, and was a third the size of the new building being constructed to take its place.
The Bards, from what Mags had learned from Dallen, actually had had a Collegium here first. It had been the first Collegium here, as the Healers had originally been happy enough to train other Healers wherever student and teacher happened to be, and the Heralds had their own system of apprentice and mentor. Then the Healers built their own small Collegium, mostly just to train all the local Healers in Haven, but also to get especially gifted Healers special advanced training. But when far, far too many new Heralds began appearing for the old system of master and protege to work, and it had been decided that the Heralds needed a Collegium of their own, suddenly the Healers wanted expansion, too, and the Bards insisted on a much bigger one than they had. And both Circles got their demand, but since there were only so many skilled workmen in Haven to build such large structures, it was going to take three times longer to build them all.
According to Dallen, this had given rise to some aggrieved feelings among the Heralds, who were annoyed at their perceived overcrowding, though to Mags’ mind, they didn’t have a great deal to complain about. Still, there were bad feelings on the part of some toward the Bards, who were thought of as being greedy, and who—it was presumed—had also egged the Healers into demanding a Collegium of their own.
Dallen didn’t know the truth or falsehood of that last. All he knew was that some among the Heralds were definitely holding a grudge.
As for “Old” Bardic, it was definitely going to be taken down, as was “Old” Healers’. The King wanted the space for pleasure gardens for the courtiers and all of these new Trainees to use.