“I believe it’s my duty to remain either here or at the Vale, where I am needed, and not in Kelmskeep, where I am not,” Keisha replied, in a level and moderate tone. “So I will not be going to Kelmskeep.” She was deeply grateful that Kero told them all to stay mounted; the height-advantage she had gave her an advantage in authority as well.
Her father began to get a bit red in the face, himself. “No daughter of mine -”
“I am your daughter only after I am a Healer,” Keisha countered, hoping that she sounded calm and reasonable. “My first and most important duty is as a Healer. Once she’s a full Herald, you wouldn’t even think to tell Shandi to stay out of danger, would you?”
The trouble is, I’m afraid they would. . . .
Even through shields, she could tell that she had just set the spark to the tinder. There was going to be a very ugly outburst in a moment; she braced herself, cringing inside.
“Pardon,” Nightwind said, stepping in before either parent could send down thunder and lightning. “But Keisha is eighteen, is she not?” At Sidonie’s automatic nod, the trondi’irn continued. “Then by your own laws, she is two years past the age when she can legally make her own choices.”
“That she is,” Kero said cheerfully, bringing her own formidable personality in on Keisha’s side. “She can marry, be apprenticed, take on business or a debt, choose whatsoever profession she wishes, no matter what your desires are.”
“But she’s a child!” Sidonie wailed. “She can’t possibly make any kind of rational decision!”
“By your law, she ceased to be a child two years ago,” said Nightwind quietly. “By our law, she ceased to be one four years ago. And by demonstration of responsibility, she ceased to be one at least that long ago.” She smiled, a smile full of pity and sympathy. “Lady, your child is in no sense a child, and has not been so for years. She was simply too dutiful to remind you of that fact, but now her higher responsibilities have forced her to that point. Don’t force her to hurt you just to prove she’s long since grown up.”
Suddenly Sidonie’s face crumpled, though at least she didn’t burst into tears. Keisha swallowed, with the revelation of how difficult it must be to let children grow up; it was all there, in her father’s shocked and stricken look, in her mother’s heartsick eyes. She began to waver; was she wrong in standing against them?
But Kero was not going to let the situation decay. With a wicked gleam in her eye, she stepped in again. “I must remind you,” she said, in a voice as devoid of pity as Nightwind’s expression was full of that emotion, “I am in charge of this situation, and in my opinion you would be seriously interfering with the best interests of Valdemar by trying to persuade one of my Healers to cravenly abandon her post. It could even be construed as treason,” she added thoughtfully.
“Oh,” Ayver said, his face blank with shock. Sidonie took a few moments more to see what Kero was getting at, but when she did, her expression went just as blank as her husband’s.
Now it was Kero’s turn to soften, a little. “You’ve been good enough parents to raise not only a child Chosen but another who sees her duty as a Healer as more important than her own wishes. Now be good enough parents to let that child live up to her potential.”
Ayver was the first to recover. “Just promise that she’ll be taken care of!” he said to Kero, with the fierce glare of any thwarted father.
“I am Herald-Captain Kerowyn, and I always take care of my people,” Kero told him with supreme dignity. “You have my leave to inquire from any of my people how they are cared for.”
There seemed nothing more to say at that point, and with that bee in their ears, they beat a hasty retreat. Dusk had faded into darkness, and they were swallowed up by the night before Keisha could call them back.
Keisha let out the breath she’d been holding in, and looked at both Nightwind and Kero with gratitude. She couldn’t believe how quickly the confrontation had ended, although she wished with all her heart that it had been less painful for her parents. “This isn’t the first time you’ ve held off angry parents, is it?” she asked Kerowyn, who laughed.
“No, it’s not,” she agreed. “And you should see them when their baby-child is going to go hit people with sharp things, instead of Heal them of the aftermath!” She shook her head reminiscently. “Hate to do it, but a child has to grow up sometime in their parents’ eyes, and better they should blame me than their own flesh and blood.”
“Well, thank you, thank you both,” Keisha sighed. “I almost gave in to them; I probably would have, if you hadn’t helped.”
They all turned their mounts away from the dispersing gathering, and headed back toward the Vale just as the full moon appeared above the trees, gilding their path with silver. “I don’t think you would have,” Nightwind said, after a long silence that took them right to the edge of the night-darkened forest. “But don’t feel ashamed that they made you feel as if you were going to.” Now Keisha heard the smile in her voice. “Parents always know what strings control your heart and soul. After all, they are the ones who tied them there.”
This was, of course, not the first time that Darian and Snowfire had gone scouting an enemy encampment. The easiest way was the path they had chosen - through the treetops. The easiest way was also the safest; getting themselves into a tree near the barbarian encampment, and letting the owls make overflights while they used their owls’ eyes to observe. Snowfire sent out both of his birds, but Darian only had Kuari to keep track of. This, of course, meant that Snowfire had twice the work of Darian, but Snowfire might have been happier if Darian hadn’t insisted on coming along in the first place.
He had only agreed because they had a limited time to work in, and needed as much information as they could get.
Darian put his back up against the curiously smooth bark of his tree, and concentrated on the noncombatants, the women, girls, and young children, who were gathered around their own fire. Snowfire sent Huur and Hweel to single out those who seemed the most important in the clan, and to look for a shaman or mage. Darian didn’t know what Snowfire was seeing, but from his point of view, much as he hated to admit it, these people were nothing like the arrogant barbarians of years ago.
As Kuari actually perched no more than a few feet above the heads of a gathering of women and children, he took note of a wealth of details through the owl’s sight. For instance, there was one decoration repeated over and over in their clothing and ornaments - a cat. It was some sort of great hunting-cat, and the colors it was portrayed in were whites, grays, and blacks, giving it a ghostlike appearance. Decorations included stylized cats in profile in every conceivable position, cat faces, cat eyes, and cat paw-prints. As ornaments, he counted cat furs, cat teeth, cat skulls, and cat claws. This, then, was probably their totemic animal.
So much for the decorations of their lives. Now for the substance.
In this much, this batch of barbarians was similar to the last - the sexes were strictly segregated. Women, girls, and small children below the age of puberty grouped around one campfire, sharing one meal, the adult males crowded around another, sharing a different meal, with more of the choice cuts of meat. Snowfire was concentrating on the adult males, so Kuari and Darian ignored them.