Page 67 of Valdemar

His mother stopped in the path and pondered that for a moment. “I think we have to. But I want you in the south, not the north.”

Restil started to protest, but Darshay had something to say before he could. :She’s right. We don’t know anything about this mage; what if she knows what you look like and tries a long-distance attack on you far from the protections of Haven?:

He sighed, but nodded his agreement. “I’ll find Beltran and we’ll work out who goes where.”

• • •

When Isla wanted a thing done, it got done in a hurry. The copies of the proclamation were all written and seals attached by breakfast of the next day, and the Heralds scattered to the four winds to deliver them as soon as they had eaten. Restil was, indeed, sent due south. And for the first time, he discovered just how fast Darshay was, without the distraction of trying to figure out how to save a boatload of children. Very, very fast. It was like riding the wind, and Darshay’s pace was so smooth he could have been on a palfrey, at the walk. He made it all the way to the southern border in a third of the time it would have taken if he’d not only ridden a truly fast Valdemar Gold, but had been able to change horses regularly when one tired.

Thanks to Darshay, it didn’t take long to get to the southern border towns and villages, read the proclamation, say a few reassuring words, and be off to the next. Restil saw nobody who was unimpressed by seeing the Crown Prince and Darshay; the general reaction was one of sacred novelty, like glimpsing a holy artifact passing through on a faith-tour. This was the first time many of the villagers had seen a Herald and Companion, and even if they didn’t know what that meant, it was a remarkable sight. People weren’t happy to learn that about half of the guards stationed in their villages were being pulled off to go north, but they understood. In fact, more than one mayor or headman said, with resignation, “Well, this is no different than when we had no guards at all. We’ll manage.”

Not all of them were that sanguine, and some got as combative as they dared to with a representative of the King, but in the end, they understood they had no choice. Restil’s retort of “Well, you could be in the north,” generally quelled the argument. Not once did he mention that he was the Crown Prince, and that was a deliberate choice. Partly it was out of caution—no point in advertising who he was out there. The last thing he needed was to paint a target on his own back. But the biggest reason was that he wanted to establish that the Heralds were, essentially, without rank. That no Herald was more important than any other Herald.

But one excellent thing came out of all of this. Time and time again he was approached by people who wanted to volunteer to help defend Valdemar. After a quick check with the help of Darshay the first time it happened, he was able to tell them that they would be welcome, and the Lord Martial would arrange for their training, and they could start for Haven immediately. Darshay said that what the Lord Martial had in mind was to put them on the walls of Haven, replacing the guards he was sending north. Since virtually everyone Restil’s age these days was good with a bow, that seemed very smart to him. The gods knew they had bows and arrows in plenty, thanks to the Dolls virtually robbing the Imperial armory in the days before their escape.

All told, he was about two days on the border, without Darshay showing any signs of tiring. She probably could have kept up a steady gallop (at “fastest Companion” speed!) all night—but he, at least, needed rest. And besides, people got testy if you turned up at midnight and expected everyone to assemble for the reading of a proclamation. So he’d begin at false-dawn, and once it was past early evening, he’d stop at the first place that had an inn or guesthouse to stay in, or even someone willing to give him a place on the hearth to sleep. Inns were few in all of Valdemar, but the fact there were any at all was a testament to how the young country was faring now. Two days was all it took, and he was done by the evening of his third day.

He began his return well before dawn of the fourth day, and thanks to Darshay’s incredible speed when she was on a straight run, by afternoon he was within sight of Haven. While they raced home, Darshay kept up a running commentary on who was still out, who was back, and what the reception of the warning had been.

:The folk in the north are frightened, but determined,:Darshay reported. :And the first wagon-loads of arms and weapons have started arriving in the townships nearest Haven. Once the additional guards arrive, perhaps they will be more confident. Menalus is doing a very good job of organizing defenses.:

:Any dissension?:he asked, slowing her to a canter as they approached the outskirts of the city. On this trip he’d been able to get a lot more practice in Mindspeech, and now it felt comfortable.

:Not open. I wonder if the dissenters will just pick up and move back to Haven, or try their chances with the Adept?:

:A few might try, but they’ll have to abandon everything they’ve built, and most people are reluctant to do that,:he pointed out. Then he shook his head. :That’s not something we can do anything about. And if they come, of course we will find them shelter. There are still barges left over. And we can certainly find them jobs. Potentially, if they are proven trustworthy, we could replace all of the guards at the Palace and in Haven with some of them, and send the Palace guards north. Are the mages headed north yet?:

:A group of six, plus six apprentices. Koto is leading them. Three of them are green mages, so that once Pebble is done reshaping the landscape, they’ll make it look as if it is entirely natural. The Lord Martial sculpted the whole thing on a sand table with your father’s assistance, and Dendalin sent the plan to Delia via Valiance. Delia and Pebble are already moving along the border right now. I gather from what Valiance says that Pebble could move a great deal faster than he is doing at the moment, but he doesn’t want to separate from Delia.:

By this point they were nearly to the wall and the main gate to the Palace. He already knew how many of the Heralds were back; Darshay had been keeping him updated as they returned. Deep inside him was a core of anxiety he was doing his best to keep in check. Packs of monsters, insect plagues, and uncertain crops were one thing, but this was the first time that the new Kingdom had faced anything like a real enemy. The ongoing Imperial wars had been far away—and anyway, he had been too young to really understand any of them at the time. The attack of the Red Forest would have been terrifying—if he’d seen any of it. But he and all the other children, and those who were too frightened or utterly inexperienced in combat had all been hiding in the hertasi tunnels while it was going on. The only evidence of a battle had been when the earth trembled, and even then, he’d had no idea what that meant.

But now, for the first time, he was going to be in the front lines of a conflict with actual hostile forces. Granted, the “army” could not possibly be “Imperial-size” large; even if every one of the dissenters over the age of twelve or thirteen had been placed under arms, it would be less than a battalion, and even adding conscripts from the Adept’s city would scarcely bring it up to full battalion size. But Valdemar didn’t have a battalion’s-worth of trained troops; there were not enough guards in all of Valdemar to face them one-on-one.

And there was no telling just what other things that army would have with them. Would the Adept defy expectations and come against them herself? Maybe. Would she send magical weapons and monsters? Almost certainly. And his imagination was populated with all of the terrible things he had read about the Imperial mages using. Poomers and Spitters, of course. Catapults that could toss glass vessels full of captured, inextinguishable mage-fire. Potion-mists that infected fighters with intolerable fear. Potion-mists that killed everything they touched. Granted, potion-mists were known for killing both friend and foe, but would the Adept really care? What if she could steer the stuff? The list went on and on.

If he thought about it, he’d be limp with terror, so he tried not to think about it.

:It’s all right to be afraid. You would be foolish not to be. I will help you be brave.:

But now that he and Darshay were heading up the twisty road to the Palace, passing through the manors both completed and partially finished, some of those fears receded. Traffic was light, and Darshay could move faster than a trot.

His spirits and heart rose to see the Palace gate, and the guards there. Guards who were still not used to seeing the Companions, so that when he got within hailing distance, they got all starry-eyed to see Darshay present herself.

The guards just waved them through, at the same time that Darshay said,:The King and Queen know you are here, and will welcome you themselves as soon as they are free. I expect that won’t be until supper.:

:Well, not to be rude, my love, but I want to be out of this saddle and onto something flat for a while. Maybe with a hot bath before I get there. I’ll heat the water with magic myself.:

:Then just stop at your quarters. I’ll go straight to the stable and charm a groom into unsaddling and grooming me.:

:You are a star.:

:Yes, I am.:

• • •

One hot, soaking bath and a couple of marks flat on his bed later, and Restil was on his way to the royal suite. Already he had gotten very used to being away from the family, and he liked it very much. Beltran and Delia were excellent company, and they were near Rothas and Lythe, so he could at least keep an eye on Rothas and make sure that their tentative friendship didn’t fall by the wayside. A lot of his concerns about the budding Bard had been alleviated, partly because the mages were all drumming ethics into his skull at every opportunity, and partly because the Companions all cautiously approved of him.

In fact, as he headed for the Palace and supper, he encountered Rothas on his way as well. “Back already?” the young man said, guilelessly. “I thought you’d be gone at least a sennight!”