Bear did not look convinced.
“I’m makin’ notes of medicines,” Mags offered, handing over a scant paragraph, which was all he’d gotten out of that entire year, written closely on a salvaged piece of paper. Not from the box—oh, no! He was terrified to discover what the penalty would be for such a sacrilege. The Archivist would probably demand fingers. “I don’ know enough to know what’s stuff you already know ’bout and what ain’t, so I just take notes on it all.”
As Bear took the scrap of notes from Mags, he looked a little less sullen. “So you were thinking about me anyway—thanks!” He looked them over. “Nothing I can use, but you’re a good note taker, Mags, and I appreciate it.”
Mags waved it away. “Wouldn’t do less for ye, Bear.”
Chapter 19
But they never got the chance to talk any further about doing Bear’s research. The elements had other things in mind.
Just as they were finishing their luncheon, there was something of a stir outside; through the windows of the dining hall they could see sudden activity in the form of workmen abandoning their tasks and being mustered in groups, with a Guardsman addressing each group.
“Huh. I wonder what that’s about,” Bear said, looking puzzled.
Lena shook her head. “Nothing I know of, unless the weather is going to be bad, and they want the workmen to make sure things aren’t going to get ruined by it.” They all stood up together, and were putting the plates in the tubs to be collected, when a most unusual person entered the dining hall from the door right at Mags’ elbow. Now, this would not have been any special occurrence, except that the man was dressed in priestly fashion—and priests seldom came here. Why should they? Not that they would have been unwelcome, but when a priest was invited to the Collegia for any reason, it was generally as an honored guest, and they were treated to something rather better than dining hall food.
Mags nudged Bear with his elbow, and just as Bear turned to see what Mags wanted, the priest did something no one had ever done in all the time Mags had been there. He went up to the big brass bell that was hung on the wall at the head of the room, and gave it three sharp pulls so that it rang out above the murmuring of voices.
All conversation ceased immediately, and all heads turned toward the front of the room.
“Thank you,” the man said, in a firm, carrying voice. “I have been asked to inform the Collegia of an impending emergency. Messages from the field have given us warning of the approach of a killing storm. The Herald FarSeer attached to the King’s Council has also seen this storm strike Haven, and some of the Gifted among my Temple have confirmed it. We had been informed of this impending storm from Heralds posted west of us; we had hoped it would blow out before it reached the city, but it has only strengthened. It has already paralyzed the countryside to the west of Haven, and it will be on us at about sunset.”
Already there was a murmuring; he held up his hand and got silence once more. “This is not a storm to be trifled with. We expect several feet of snow, with such a powerful wind that there could be drifts as high as the rooftops. During the storm itself, movement even between buildings will be very hazardous, if not deadly. All classes are canceled. Trainees are being asked to help carry firewood and stack it at the doors of all buildings. Those who are not Trainees are asked to report to your immediate superiors for assignment to other work parties. We must ready each building here to be self-sufficient for a minimum of three days.” The murmuring began again, and the priest raised his voice. “Quickly! There is no time to waste!”
With that, people began to head out of the building, some of them on the run. Mags stared at his two friends, who looked incredulously back at him.
:This is no prank, Mags,: Dallen said. :Come get me. We’ll haul logs.:
Lena and Bear looked at him still as if they could not believe what they had just heard; he nodded as the babbling that had broken out all over the room turned into a roar of voices. Heralds and Trainees were explaining to their friends what he was about to tell his. “It’s no joke. We gotta get goin’. Dallen says him ’n me are gonna haul logs. We best get at it.” He gave them what he hoped was a stare that conveyed the gravity of the situation. He had been through blizzards like this. They might not have.
Lena took a deep breath, looking as if she didn’t quite believe it could be that bad, but didn’t dare disbelieve him either. “Well, in that case—”
“We get to it,” Bear said firmly. “We daren’t lose my plants. Lena, let’s get wood stacked against the wall by my furnace in case no one thinks of it. Mags? In case no one thinks of my furnace?”
He nodded, making an instant decision. Dallen, he was sure, could make it right. But better to take care of it now than to wait for permission, which might come too late or not at all. “Dallen an’ me’ll bring ye logs, but getting ’em split’ll be up t’ you.” Mags went to the line of pegs where all the coats and cloaks were hung; he wiggled his way in among all the others going after their gear, grabbed his coat, and hurried down to the stable where all the Companions, partnered or not, were being put into abbreviated harnesses with chains on the sides. Mags recognized these from his lessons as the “pulling harnesses” all Heralds took with them into the field. Dallen seemed to know where he was going, so Mags just hauled himself up onto his Companion’s bare back and joined a procession of similarly mounted Trainees, Companions alone, and even stablehands with common horses down a little road he hadn’t paid much attention to before this. It ran along the inside of the wall around the Palace and Companion’s Field, and it ended in the biggest pile of logs he had ever seen in his life.
Until this moment it had never occurred to him to question where all the firewood came from for all the buildings within that wall. Now he knew. It looked as if an entire forest had been brought here and stacked up. There were three men in heavy clothing with iron bars on the top of each stack of logs, carefully levering logs away so that they tumbled down the side of the stack to land on the snow. Once a log was down, a Companion and Trainee, or a Companion alone, or a regular horse led by a stablehand, went up to the log. Chains were hitched around it, the chains from the harness fastened to it, and off they went, heading for the Palace.
When it was Dallen’s turn, Mags, who had watched the procedure carefully, jumped off and did his own chaining-up, much to the approval of the log tenders. He didn’t bother getting back on; Dallen couldn’t go fast with that heavy log behind him, and he didn’t want to burden his Companion any more than he had to.
Already there was a sense of urgency in the air that Mags entirely approved of. No one who hadn’t tended a fire himself had any idea of how much wood was going to be consumed over the next three days. In a way, he hoped that there were snowdrifts up to the rooftops. Those drifts would seal off the wind and insulate against some of the worst of the cold.
:I have approval to take our logs to Bear, Chosen.: Dallen’s muscles rippled as he pulled the dead weight forward. Mags wished he could take some of that burden himself. :Bear was right. Some of those medicinal plants are absolutely without price, and we cannot risk them freezing. That was good forethought on his part.: