“Get us inside information, then get our Herald operatives out of there,” Randale replied. “Then send a few non-Gifted agents to deliver aid to the rest, then insinuate themselves into the trouble. And let's get moving on the Rethwellan situation.”
By this time, the corners of his mouth were tight and pinched, and he was very pale. Vanyel felt a lump rising in his throat. Randale was proving a better King than anyone had ever expected; the weaker he became, the more he seemed to rise to the challenge. As his body set tighter physical limits on what he could do, his mind roved, keeping track of all of the tangles inside Valdemar and out.
Vanyel swallowed the lump that caught in his throat every time he looked at Randale. “Anything else?” he asked. “There's a lot of matters pending.”
Randale closed his eyes and leaned back into the pillows. “Compromise in the Lendori situation by offering them the contract for the Guard mules if they'll cede the water rights to Balderston. Their animals are good enough, if priced a little high. The Evendim lot has their own militia; feel them out and see if they might be willing to spare us some men. Tell Lord Preatur that if he doesn't either take that little mink he calls his daughter and marry her off or send her back home, I'll find a husband for her; she's got half my Guard officers at dagger's point with each other. That's all.”
“That's enough.” Vanyel touched one finger to Randale's hot forehead, and exerted his own small Healing ability. Shavri had told him that every tiny bit helped some. “Rest, Randi.”
“I'll do my best,” the King whispered, and Vanyel took himself out before he started weeping.
Pages and acolytes were flying about Everet's rooms like leaves in a storm, while Everet stood in the middle of the chaos and directed it calmly. Vanyel dodged a running child and handed Everet the document.
Everet read it through as carefully as Randale had. “Excellent. Enough authority to cow just about anyone I might need to.” He intercepted one of the acolytes and directed the young man to pack the document with the rest of his papers. “Thank you, Herald. Let's hope I don't need to use it.”
“Fervently,” Vanyel replied, and returned briefly to the Council Chamber to give the Seneschal the rest of King Randale's orders.
Sunlight on the water blinded him a moment. :I feel like the Fair Maid of Bredesmere, waiting for her lover,: 'Fandes Mindsent.
Vanyel squinted against the light, then waved to her; she was standing on the Field side of the bridge spanning the river separating the Palace grounds from Companion's Field. :Well, you're all in white,: he teased as he approached the bridge. :And there's the River for you to get thrown into.:
Just try it, my lad,: she reared a little, and danced in place, the long grass muffling the sound of her hooves. :We'll see who throws who in!:
:Thank you, I'd rather not.: He ran the last few steps over the echoing bridge, and took her silken head in both his hands. “You're beautiful today, love,” he said aloud.
:Huh.: She snorted, and shook his hands off. :You say that every day.: But he could tell by the way she arched her neck that she was pleased.
:That's because you are beautiful every day,: he replied.
:Flatterer.: she said, tossing her silver waterfall of a mane. Since they weren't in combat situations anymore, she'd told him to let it and her tail grow, and both were as long and full as a Companion's in an illuminated manuscript.
“It isn't flattery when it's true,” he told her honestly. “I wish I had more time to spend with you.”
Her blue eyes darkened with love. :I do, too. A plague on reality! I just want to be with you, not have to work!:
He laughed. “Now you're as lazy as I used to be! Come along, love, and let's get ourselves settled so we can make a stab at reaching Kera.”
At one time there had been a grove of ancient pine trees near the bridge-the grove that had been destroyed when Herald-trainee Tylendel had lost control of his Gift in the shock following his twin brother's death. There was nothing there now except grass, a few seedlings and a couple of trees that had escaped the destruction. The dead trees had long since been cut up and used for firewood.
Since that night had been the start of the train of events that led to Tylendel's suicide, it would have been logical for Vanyel to shun the spot, but logic didn't seem to play a very large part in Vanyel's life. He still found the place peaceful, protective, and he and Yfandes often went there when they needed to work together.
There was a little hollow in the center of what had been the grove; Yfandes folded her legs under her and settled down there in the long grass. There wasn't so much as a breath of wind to stir the tips of the grass blades. Vanyel lowered himself down beside her, and braced his back against her side. The warm afternoon sun flowed over both of them.
“Ready?” he asked.
:When you are.: she replied.
He closed his eyes, and slid into full rapport with her; it was even easier with her than with Savil. He waited for a moment while they settled around each other, then Reached for Kera:
She couldn't know when someone was going to try to contact her, but Kera had to realize that they were going to do so eventually. Vanyel was counting on that, on the receptivity. He'd worked with Kera before this, so he knew her well enough to find her immediately If he could reach that far.
He strained to Hear her; to sort her out of the distant whispers on the Border of Karse. Most of those mind-voices were strident with anger; a few were full of panic. It was by the lack of both those traits that he identified Kera; that, and the carefully crafted shields about her. Savil's work, and beautiful, like a faceted crystal.
He stretched-it was like trying to touch something just barely within his grasp; the tips of his “fingers” brushed the edge of it. :Kera.: He offered his identification to her shields, which parted briefly and silently.
:Who?: came the thought; then incredulity. :Vanyel?:
She knew where he was and the kind of strain it was to reach her. Hard on that incredulity came the information he needed; exactly what was going on over in Karse, everything Kara knew about the Prophet, and that he was, indeed, backed by the full force of the Karsite Crown and the priesthood of the Sunlord.
:Get out of there,: Vanyel urged. :Go over White Foal Pass if you have to, or get out through Rethwellan, but leave. Warn the others you're leaving if you can. With a Companion around you, however disguised, you're the most likely to be uncovered.:
Fear, and complete agreement. Evidently she'd had some close calls already.
:Go,: she told him, courage layered over the fear. :I've got my plans, I was just waiting for contact.:
He released her, and dropped into clamoring darkness.