She and Treyvan had been extraordinarily open with him, especially after the death of his mother, allowing him glimpses of their personal life that most humans were never allowed to see. They were, all in all, quite private creatures; of all the Tayledras, only Darkwind was considered an intimate friend. They had not even allowed Dawnfire, who was possibly the best of all the k'sheyna at dealing with nonhumans, to come that close to them.
"Ssssso," Hydona sighed, after a long and luxurious scratch. "Thisss is your patrol time-it musst be busssinesss that bringsss you. And bussinesss isss ssseriousss. How can we help?" Darkwind looked into her brilliant, deep eyes. "I want to ask advice, and maybe some favors," he said. "I seem to have acquired a problem." Hydona's ear-tufts perked up. "Acquired a problem? Interesssting word choicssse. Ssssay on." He chose a comfortable rock, as she curled up beside her mate.
"Well," he began. "It happened this way.
*Chapter Nine ELSPETH
Master Quenten reread the message from his old employer, Captain Kerowyn. Herald Captain Kerowyn, he was going to have to remember that. Not that the new title seemed to have changed her much.
"Quenten, I have a job for you, and a sizable retainer enclosed to make you go along with it. Important Personage coming your way; keep said Personage from notice if possible; official and sensitive business.
Will have one escort along, but is capable of taking care of self in a fight. Personage needs either a mage-for-hire, a damn good one, or training.
Or both. Use your own judgment, pass Personage on to Uncle if you have to. Thank you for your help. Write if you find a real job.
Kerowyn." He smiled at the joke; no, Kerowyn hadn't changed, even since becoming one of the white-clad targets for the Queen of Valdemar-although Quenten also had no doubts that she refused to wear the white uniform without a royal decree. Quenten thanked the courier for the message, and offered him the hospitality of the Post for his recovery-stay.
It was graciously accepted, and the young man-one of King Faram's squires-offered to share gossip of the Rethwellan Court with him in return come dinner.
And people wonder how we get our information. the squire was an affable youngster, fresh from the hill district, with the back-country burr still strong in his speech. He made Quenten quite nostalgic for the old days with the Skybolts; a good half of them came out of the hill district facing Karse, with their tough little ponies and all their worldly goods in a saddle-pack up behind them. What they lacked in ~ons, they tended to make up for in marksmanship, tracking, and a tough-minded approach to life; something Kero had called "Attitude." He had all of that, with a veneer of gentility that told Quenten he was from one of the noble families that hung on there, after fighting their way to the local high seat and holding it by craft, guile, and sheer, stubborn resilience. His eyes went round at Quenten's pair of magelights over the table, though he never said a word about them. He knew how to use the eating utensils though, which was more than Kero's hill lasses and lads generally did. He'd gotten that much out of civilization.
But because he was so new to Court, he couldn't tell Quenten what the mage really wanted to know-just who and what this Personage was.
"There's two of 'em, about a day behind me, I'd reckon," the young man said around a mouthful of Quenten's favorite egg-and-cheese pie.
"One man, one girl, done up all in white, with white horses. Fast, they are, the horses I mean. I say about a day 'cause I started out a week ahead, but I reckon they've made it up by now, that's how fast them horses are." Well, "done up all in white" in connection with the note from Kero meant they were Heralds out of Valdemar, but what Heralds could possibly want with a mage was beyond him. He recalled quite vividly his encounter with Valdemar's Border-protections. He didn't think they'd be able to pay any mage enough to put up with that.
Still, that wasn't for him to say; maybe there was a way around it.
He'd have to wait and see.
But who were these Heralds? They'd have to be important for Kero to exert herself on their behalf-and equally important for King Faram to have sent one of his own squires on ahead with Kero's message to warn him that they were coming.
He put that question to the youngster over dessert, when the squire had sipped just enough of Quenten's potent, sweet wine to be a little indiscreet.
Ehrris-wine does it every time.
The young man rolled his wide blue eyes. "Well as to that," he replied," No one's said for sure. But the young lady, I think she must be related. I overheard her call His Majesty"Uncle," when the King gave me the packet and instructions just before I left. I reckon she's Daren's get, though I'd never heard of her before." Daren's child? Quenten snorted to himself with amusement. And a Herald of Valdemar? Not unless the twins are aging a year for every month since they've been born. But Selenay's oldest child, now that's a possibility, though I wouldn't have thought they'd let her out of the city, much less the Kingdom. Interesting. Something must be going on in that war with Hardorn that I don't know about. I'd thought it was back to staring at each other across the Border.
He sat back in his chair while the young man rattled on, and sipped his own wine. Suddenly the stakes were not just Kero asking a favor; not with a princess riding through Rethwellan incognito, looking for mages to hire. This had all the flavor of an intrigue with the backing of the Valdemaran Crown, and it promised both danger and the possibility of rapid and high advancement. Quenten had a good many pupils that would find those prospects attractive enough to chance the protections keeping mages out. Maybe they even found a way to cancel them. that might be why they're finally coming down here now.
In fact-now that Quenten was Master-Class, and could be a low-level Adept if he ever bothered to take the test-it was possible that it was attractive enough to interest him. It might be worth trying to find a way around those "watchers," whatever they were, if they hadn't been countered already.
Court Mage of Valdemar... For a moment visions of fame and fortune danced in his head. Then he recalled why he wasn't a Court Mage now-the competition, the rivalry, and above all, the restrictions on what he could and could not do or say. He'd been offered the position and more than once. So had Jendar, as far as that went. Both of them had preferred to help friends to the post-friends who would tell them what was going on-and keep up casual ties with the rulers of the time. Sometimes a King preferred to go outside his Court for advice... to a mage, say, with no other (obvious) axes to grind.
He laughed at himself, then, and bent his attention to the amusing stories the young squire brought from Court. And remembered what he had once told Kero.
If I have to choose between freedom to do what's right, and a comfortable High Court position, I'll take the freedom.
She had shrugged, but her smile told him that she tacitly agreed with him. Which was probably why she was making a target of herself in Valdemar right now.
We're both fools, he thought, and chuckled. The squire, who thought the mage was chuckling at one of his jokes, glowed appreciatively.