Page 69 of Valdemar

She wore a similar outfit to the one she had arrived wearing, but in green. Silvermoon was all in grays. So evidently while he’d been gone, they had decided to stay, and gotten changes of clothing. I wonder how long they’re planning to be here. He hoped it was for at least a sennight more.

“Hello,” he said, in his very best Tayledras—because of course he and his brothers had been given the language along with the King and Queen within the first few days of being at what was then k’Vesla Vale. “We met a few days ago, but we weren’t properly introduced. I’m Restil, the King’s oldest son, and Chosen by Darshay.” There wasn’t actually a word for “King” in the Hawkbrother language, but there was something that meant “ruler,” and he figured that would do.

“I know who you are,” she replied. “I remember you riding up on your Companion when we visited the Grove for the first time. And your accent is very good.” She smiled slightly. “You just returned from the southern border.”

“Yes, I did,” he confirmed. “This afternoon. Are you and your cousin going to stay for a while?” He found himself hoping that she would say “yes.” She intrigued him no end. Not the least because she was his age—and yet he distinctly recalled that there had not been any children of any kind at k’Vesla when the Valdemarans had arrived. And he’d looked for them as a child, and wondered where all the Hawkbrother children were. There didn’t seem to be any—but before he could find out, the Tayledras had removed themselves to the new location of their Vale, and he never got a chance to discover where they were—or if the Hawkbrothers had already moved them to the new location of the Vale before they offered the old location to the Valdemarans. So if she was indeed k’Vesla, and she was almost certainly his age, where had she sprung from?

But it would be very rude to just come out and ask that. The Hawkbrothers were quite secretive—no one in Valdemar even knew where the new location of k’Vesla was—and this was probably one more thing they were very secretive about.

“I’m not sure,” she said, looking down at her food. “I—I’m not sure. He hasn’t told me.”

He decided to be a little bold. “Would you like to stay?” He hoped he didn’t sound too pushy. He hoped she didn’t take it wrong.

“Actually, yes, I would,” she said, finally looking at him. “The Companions fascinate me. The Grove does, too. And I want to learn things from your Healers that my teachers did not know.”

“Oh! You’re a Healer, then?” He paused. “In the Empire, all Healers wore green, and we more or less kept that, because that makes them easy to identify.”

“I’d wondered! That was why I chose this to wear.” She smoothed the skirt of her tunic with her free hand. “I didn’t know if it was polite to ask.”

So . . . she wasn’t at k’Vesla when our Healers and theirs were neck deep in exchanges. So where was she?

“My cousin asked me to come, because he wanted me to learn directly from your Healers what they taught the k’Vesla Healers.” She smiled a very little. “He says that information obtained secondhand is like wearing secondhand boots. It’s never quite right.”

“Well, I can do you a favor, then,” he said, pleased that he was going to be able to . . . well, maybe not impress her, exactly, but certainly please her. “My cousin Delia started a project of copying all the important books we could get together, and I know there must be books by Healers among them. I could take you to the scriptorium and, at the very least, you’ll be able to read those books and take notes, even if there isn’t a copy to spare. If there is a spare, I am sure they’ll let you have it.”

“That would be very kind of you!” she exclaimed, as if she was surprised that he had volunteered something of that sort. “I would be very grateful! I did not know there were extra copies of such texts, and your Healers guard their books like bears guarding a den!”

He smiled back at her. I think this is going well.

He glanced up to the head of the table. Silvermoon was deep in what looked like serious conversation with the King and Queen. “Do you remember Lythe Shadowdancer?” he asked her. “She works in the scriptorium at night while she’s awake. With a good, bright mage-light you can work as late as you please, but of course, most of the scribes prefer . . .”

“Their evenings to themselves,” she said, when he hesitated. “So they can actually have a life outside of books. Yes, I remember Lythe, although I didn’t talk with her myself. I sincerely hope that you have managed to at least temper that misery they were both projecting, if not eliminate it.” She shook her head in a way that almost made him laugh. It was clear she had no patience at all for what she probably thought was self-indulgent emotional wallowing.

“Well, yes,” he replied cheerfully. “In fact, that’s one reason why she’s in the scriptorium. It’s wonderful what having a productive task can do. Honestly, some of her problem was that Rothas did have work when they were with you—he performed, and he composed—but she had nothing at all. To make matters worse, once night falls, people tend to break into small groups to socialize, and she was left out of them.”

Starbird nodded. “I expect that was true.”

“And once they came here, Rothas had even more to do, learning new instruments, learning exactly how to use his Gifts, and he had a much bigger audience. What could Lythe do?” He shrugged. “I certainly wasn’t the one who had the idea—Father did—but the first thing we did was give her a job. Initially, that was helping to patrol the Palace walls at night, because she didn’t have any obvious skills.”

“She can dance,” Starbird said dryly. “That was all we ever discovered.”

“Well, as it turns out, Father discovered that she has Animal Mindspeech. And Delia worked out that she enjoys doing detailed work, and tried her on copying books.” Starbird seemed interested, so he continued. “So besides working in the scriptorium, which she very much enjoys, she’s learning to use her Gift and is making a good job of it too. She works with our Master of Hounds to get puppies to understand what is wanted of them much faster, and to discover what exactly is ailing sick or injured dogs. She works with the cats occasionally too, though—” He shrugged.

“I know. Cats.” She nodded knowingly.

“And horses. Regular horses, although the Companions talk to her as well. And besides that, we learned that . . . after the initial giddy rush, neither of them was particularly happy about being lifebonded to a complete stranger. Especially not when they only saw each other for a mark or so at sunrise, and another at sunset. The lifebond was dragging them together, but their natural inclination was to resist. So there’s that.” He waited to see what she would make of that.

“Oh. Dear.” She pursed her lips. “I don’t think that even occurred to any of us. Very remiss of us. Something we should have picked up on.”

“Don’t be too upset with yourselves. With all that melancholy oozing out of both of them, it would have been difficult to ferret out the causes.” There, that was probably diplomatic enough. “Silvermoon did the right thing by bringing them here. They both got things to do to keep them from dwelling too much on their own unhappiness, and that meant they actually started talking to each other. And we are making some headway on breaking those curses, now that we know what happened. The mages tell me it’s going to take some very specific timing, but if anyone can disentangle the magic, I think our Old Men can.”

“And once they can have normal lives again, it will just be a matter of reconciling themselves to the lifebond,” she concluded. “In the meantime, interesting work that you are actually good at is a spirit-lifter for most people.” She smiled fully, then, and he found himself smiling back.

“Rothas will probably perform after everyone eats,” he offered. “He does most nights. He’s gotten to be a very fine Bard, in fact! Do you want to stay and listen?”

“I’ve already heard him, and yes, he’s remarkable.” He expected her to decline, but instead, she added, “I’d enjoy that very much. And then we can visit the scriptorium, when everyone else is gone and Lythe is awake.”

“Perfect,” he said, and would have said more, except at that exact moment, Rothas appeared in the doorway of the Great Hall, and anything he might have said was drowned in enthusiastic applause.