It's this Heir To the throne business. She never actually says anything about it, but she radiates it. As if-she doesn't wear a crown, but she carries herself as if she did. As if she is always thinking that she's being watched and admired, that she is an important person, and expects everyone else to be aware of that.
Never mind that the only Tayledras around who knew of her land were Starblade and Iceshadow, who had studied the old histories. Never mind that even those two had no interest whatsoever in her country and the Heralds who populated it, except as a curiosity and as it had impact in the past on Tayledras concerns.
Treyvan and Hydona might have some ideas about his concerns; they were ambassadors, of sorts-Hydona was female. That could help. In either case they might have some idea how to deal with another Outlander.
Particularly an impatient, high-ranking, annoyingly impressive female Outlander.
At the waterfall, all the mage-lights had been extinguished. The moon was still high overhead, though, providing plenty of illumination, pouring down over this end of the Vale and touching the mist rising from the falls with silver. The two he sought were still there, lazing beside the pool like a pair of creatures from legend; both gryphons looked up at his footfall, but to his disappointment he saw that they were not alone.
The shaman Tre'valen was with them, and he felt a certain reluctance to discuss one Outlander in front of another. For that matter, he wasn't certain he wanted to discuss Elspeth with anyone except the gryphons.
He trusted them unfailingly.
Nevertheless, since they had seen him and nodded greetings, it would have been impolite to ignore them and walk on. It would be even worse to return the way he came. It isn't going to do any harm to make some idle chat. And Her Highness Elspeth isn't a problem I can't cope with on my own, if I just think carefully before I say or do anything.
So he approached the little group-which, he saw as he grew nearer, included the gryphlets. The little ones were tucked under their mother's wing, quietly sleeping, curled together into softly huffing balls of wings and limbs.
"Tre'valen brought the younglingsss when they began to fret and did not want to sssleep without usss near. And have you had enough of 'ccelebration?" Treyvan said softly as he neared. The shaman lounged beside Hydona, along the edge of the pool, his hair wet and rebraided.
Looks as if Tre'valen has been swimming. I didn't know that the Shin'a'in knew how to swim. I didn't think there were any bodies of water on the Plains deep enough for them to learn.
"Quite enough, I think," he replied, and nodded to the shaman.
"Your Hawk Dance is very good, Wingbrother. In fact, I don't know that I've ever seen better. I should like to see you dance one day in full home regalia, with a proper set of Shin'a'in musicians and singers."
"If you enjoyed my dance, you should see my brother; I learned it from him-" Tre'valen stretched, and turned to look him straight in the eyes. "I have been greatly curious, Wingbrother, and I think you will be willing to answer an impertinent question. Was it my imagination, or was there an air of desperation about all of this~ As if folk were doggedly determined to enjoy themselves?" Darkwind had been wondering if he was the only one to notice that.
"It was not your imagination," he replied quietly.
"I thought not." Tre'valen nodded. "Your people escaped the hand of Falconsbane by a very narrow margin. Whether it was the hand of the Goddess or of chance, or both together, there was little they could have done of themselves to free this Clan from his influence. I wondered if they knew how narrow their escape was. Your father, for instance-"
"They know," Darkwind replied, carefully steering the conversation away from his father. That was another whole situation he was not quite ready to deal with yet. "They simply don't dwell on it. And they know that our troubles are not yet over, which accounts for that desperate enjoyment you noted."
"But the urgency iss lesss," Hydona said. "All that hass occurrred, hass bought k'sheyna time. Thisss celebrration-it wass a good thing.
It iss a relief from the tenssion. Bessidesss... other changess arre coming.
Darkwind decided to leave that typically gryphonish-meaning crypticremark alone.
"You could be reading Iceshadow's mind," he smiled. "After all the troubles, the fear-" and the other things no one wants to talk about, like discovering what had been done to my father" It was just a good idea to give everyone something pleasurable to think about for a little while. A relief." He scratched Hydona's neck ruff absently, and she half-closed her eyes with pleasure. One of the gryphlets rolled over, chirring contentment in its sleep. "A day or two of rest isn't going to alter the Heartstone question, but it might make all the difference in letting us gain a fresh outlook." Tre ' valen raised an eyebrow, but said only, "Some look as if they need a rest more than a fresh outlook. Starblade, for instance." Don't ask too many impertinent questions, shaman. I might answer them, and you might not care for the answers. I am not altogether certain that the Shin'a'in are ready to embrace the problems of their cousins, no matter how many Wingsib Oaths are sworn. What you do not officially know, you need not act upon.
Treyvan raised his head from his foreclaws. "You look rrready for a frresh outlook, Darrkwind," he said, as Darkwind tried unsuccessfully to suppress a yawn. "The outlook you may have frrom yourrrr bed."
"I think you're right," he admitted, glad of the excuse to escape from a conversation that was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. He didn't particularly want to discuss the problems of k'sheyna, at least not now, when his tired mind and tongue might let things slip he would rather were not revealed.
The way he felt about Starblade, for instance. His heart was still sore and shaking from the revelation that the cold, critical "father" of the past several years had not been the father who had taught him his first lessons in magic-and who had worn the costumes his son had designed for him with such open pride.
The fact that Starblade had worn one of those costumes tonight, which was not only the Wingsib Oathing, but the first time he had taken part in the social life of K'Sheyna since Darkwind had freed him, had left him on very uncertain emotional ground. In a very real sense, he had a new father-but Darkwind was years older, and there was deepset pain between them. It was going to take some time before his feelings were reconciled.
He imagined it was much the same for Starblade. The only difference between what he and his father had to cope with was that Starblade had known the truth but had not been able to act upon it, while Darkwind had been able to act but had not known the truth. Equally painful situations.
He yawned again, and this time did not take the trouble to hide it. "I think I must be getting old," he said. "My ability to celebrate until sunrise is not what it once was. And I did promise young Elspeth that her lessons would continue when we both arose from sleep-" He ignored Tre'valen's suggestive smirk. "-so rather than finding her waiting at the foot of my ekele, I think I will seek my own bed and see if I might wake before she does."
"A good plan," chuckled Tre'valen. "Zhaihelleva.
"And to you, all," he replied, and rose from the soft turf beside the pool, brushing off his seat. He retraced his steps, this time heading for the path that ultimately led out of the Vale. Even though he was reconciled with Starblade, the fluctuating power of the Heartstone made him uncomfortable, and he disliked having to sleep near it. Starblade and the rest understood, and his "eccentricity" of maintaining a dwelling outside the safe haven of the Vale was no longer a subject of contention.