Tour of Duty: Stories and Provocation (24 page)

That’s fair
, he thought. Very fair. Yssanda hadn’t actually offered advice, though, only facts.

:Often, that is the best advice of all.

He scowled. Why was everyone assuming he would be one of these Heralds?

He awoke at graylight, and followed the smells of breakfast downstairs to a common room. He was an outsider, but treated cordially enough. As he finished, one of the omnipresent mage students led him to the stable, where Yssanda was ready, groomed, in new harness, and Armaeolihn waited in comfortable traveling clothes with her own roan gelding, and a lead to a sturdy draft pony.

“Good day,” he said, in Rethwellen.

She nodded politely enough, if a bit noncommittally. He got the feeling that she was unsure of his qualifications but glad to be finally going to Valdemar. It was going to be a long enough journey as it was, hopefully she wasn’t going to act superior the entire way. Not that it mattered with a language barrier.

:Don’t worry, for all that she’s a mage she’s also a young girl. She’ll open up a little more as we journey. Of course, that’s going to depend somewhat on you. Don’t you know how to treat a girl? Or are the Shin’a’in all unlettered barbarians?:

While her tone was teasing, that was the root of this problem. He was out of his depth.

The journey through Rethwellan passed in a series of inns, where Master Quenten’s letter secured them supplies and sleeping quarters, and then there were the times between the inns.

Keth’ was learning Valdemaran while trying to wrap his mind around the philosophy, history and ways of that strange land. The education did pass the time, especially when delivered with the biting sarcasm of the Companion.

This time, when he laughed out loud at Yssanda’s comment, he heard an exasperated sigh.

Blushing, he turned to look at his herebefore stubbornly silent traveling companion.

Noticing his glance, she scowled at him. “What are you laughing at?”

“Something that Yssanda said.” It didn’t occur to him to prevaricate.

“Yssanda? Who’s Yssanda?”

“You’ve been traveling with her.” He leaned forward and patted the Companion’s shoulder.

Yssanda turned her head and winked at Armaeolihn. The crystal blue eye glinted briefly before resuming the dark brown color that Yssanda used for discretion.

Armaeolihn was silent again. Keth’ hoped he hadn’t annoyed her. She’d been more friendly of late.

During their lunch break at the side of the road, Lihn broke her silence.

“Is Yssanda some kind of Guardian Spirit, or are you a mage?” she started off accusingly.

“I don’t know.” Keth’ scowled. “I’m supposed to have some kind of Gift—mind-magic and true-magic. But I don’t want it and don’t need it. Yssanda won’t tell me what she is—just that she’s a Companion and that they’ll tell me everything in Valdemar.”

“You don’t want magic? How can you not want magic?” Lihn sounded absolutely shocked.

“Where I come from, only shamans and Hawkbrothers have magic. Mages meddle where they’re not supposed to and are forbidden to be on the plains. At least they used to be. Things have changed since the Mage Storms.”

“So what are you doing riding a spirit horse, speaking to it using mind-magic, traveling with a mage and going to Valdemar where there are many mages?”

“That’s what I’d like to know.”

His reply silenced her again. But this time it was a puzzled silence, rather than a hostile one.

“I would ask you the same,” he said to her after they began to ride again.

“For learning.”

“I was told that. What kind of learning?”

“Ah,” she said, and shifted, with a breath. “I am a born mage, and have studied many disciplines. I can gather dispersed magic and build its power. Not like before the Mage Storms, but to a level suitable for serious study. Each style has its limits, though. There are more schools, more ways, in Valdemar. I will share what I know, in exchange they will let me study more.”

“I see,” he said. “I wish I could unlearn mine. I have no desire to improve it.”

“But you must!” she said.

“Eh. Why? I don’t use it.” He shrugged.

“You have been using it. You say you talk to animals. You talk to this Companion. That’s why you’re going for training.”

He flared up again. “Everyone assumes I’m getting trained.”

“Magic not controlled is magic that controls the mage. It’s far better that you do. Far, far better,” she said, and shuddered slightly.

“I have a life,” he said. “I am happy with it.”

Lihn said, “Magic changes things. You can feel this.”

“Shin’a’in don’t use magic.”

She said nothing.

They rode on, munching rations as they traveled, resting themselves and their horses every couple of hours. It was midafternoon before she spoke again.

“Imagine a campfire, in dry grassland,” she said.

Yssanda had said as much. He didn’t feel that was a fair comparison, but everyone else seemed to.

:You channel magic. That is what you must learn.:

I don’t have to use it and don’t want to. Even this is more than I care for
.

The trip was long. The weather was fair enough, and they were sure of supplies without hunting; the letter from Master Quenten assuring them of food, water and lodging whenever they stopped. In between, Keth’ was quite comfortable on a roll under canvas. Lihn clearly wasn’t, but said nothing and put up with it, though occasionally he caught what he thought was a gesture of her hands before sleeping.

One morning after rising, he felt the ground she’d lain on. It was spongy, like moss or the ground beneath evergreens. Magic.

That is something I dislike about magic, he said. It makes people soft.

:Only as soft as they need or want. This is why control is important.:

I don’t want to argue about that.

:Neither do I, so let us work on language. Ten more words today. You have a good basic vocabulary now.:

He preferred the language lessons to lectures on mind-magic.

He understood why he had been hired, and promised pay for this. Lihn was quite smart, but not skilled in wilderness. Keth’ was the one who loaded the pack pony with dried fat and fruit for the ride through the mountains and White Foal Pass, with extra blankets of thick fleece, and waxen fire starters. It was easier than long caravans or herding, and they made good distance each day, even in the brisk chill the mountains had even in summer.

Then they were descending into glorious greenery again, until it became humid, rich and with the scent of lush life growing in between outcroppings of stone. Shortly, grassy hills stretched on before them, not his plains but refreshing after the rocky pass.

“This is the South Trade Road,” she said, showing him on the map. “We are in Valdemar. Having crossed half a continent, we have merely half a country still to travel.”

“Well, good,” he said.

:We shall stop before dinner,
Yssanda said.
:There are now Waystations and Inns for us to use.:

“I believe we’re stopping soon,” he said.

“Yes,” she agreed. “I can tell when Yssanda talks to you.”

He scowled, because it felt intrusive for her to know that and he wasn’t sure how else to respond.

They soon came to a town with a guard station. Yssanda moved up to the guard and stood still. A guard came out, eyed the Companion who was no longer disguising herself, eyed Keth’, and said, “Ah, a newly chosen one are you? We’ll see you right, we will.”

Keth’ thanked him with what he hoped was a fair accent, dismounted and led Yssanda towards the corral, stable, lodge and watchers. He presented the letter for Lihn and she dismounted as well. The guard examined it and handed it back to Keth’ along with another town chit—this one said Sweetsprings—and they were waved into the inn. The staff took charge of providing them with bathing, cleaning, food and beds.

There were clearly apparent advantages to even association with a Companion. While he had been comfortable enough in the open air with the tarp overhead, he certainly appreciated the regular occurrence of sleeping pallets, hot meals and sweetened travel rations. Even the Waystations had been an improvement over sleeping on the ground. A Shin’a’in didn’t need such things of course, but they sweetened his traveling companion’s temper—such was always to be wished as he had received the sharp edge of her wit several times.

:There are Waystations from here on, so we shall have shelter each night.:

If we must, though I may sleep outside with the tarp and enjoy the breeze
. He was even thinking in Valdemaran now, if haltingly. He was starting to grasp the language, though the attitudes and philosophy still escaped him.

He wondered what the cities ahead would be like. This area was more populated than his Plains, and it was a remote hinterland for Valdemar, he understood. The first time a small train of goods wagons came the other way, he’d stared. There would be more, though.

:I will teach you more of mind-magic as we near, so you are better prepared.:

I can accept that. I’ll be sorry to turn you over to the Queen’s stables. You’re . . . a friend.

:We don’t have to part ways.:

Yes, we do
, he said firmly. It would be more than a year by the time he returned home, most of it traveling, much of it with this mage girl.

If it were possible, I’d stay with you and let you teach me.

:If it were possible, that would still not be possible. I asked for special dispensation to teach you this much. It is only to familiarize you. It could, in fact, make things worse. Normally, only Herald trainees receive this kind of training.:

How? And why did you, then?

:Think of a wild youth, you know of them, you were one not long ago yourself. Unschooled, untrained, eager. Imagine that mischief, unintentional, with the force of magic. As to how, if you stay they’ll teach you.:

You hoped I’d learn to like it and change my mind.

:Not quite. However, without familiarity that would be impossible.:

Three months ago, Keth’ would have been furious. Now he was just bothered. He had a choice to make, and everyone was presuming to push him in the same direction. That made him stubborn, but, did they all know something he didn’t? Wasn’t he the best judge of himself?

Something else nudged at him and he put it aside. The training took years. It would divert his life. At the same time, there was a vibrancy to this place. It bespoke adventure and restlessness, which he shouldn’t let sway him, except . . .

The nudge came again, firmer.

He quivered and said, “I think there are others nearby.”

Lihn asked, “Possibly a patrol? Travelers?”

“A patrol maybe. They don’t feel like travelers.”

“Did you feel the previous travelers?”

He twitched at that. “Yes, actually I did, now that I think about it. Sort of a background distance noise like a camp. Something I was aware of but . . . this isn’t that.”

Not far ahead, a voice roared something almost intelligible, and both sides of the road erupted in men, dressed in threadbare uniform parts and twigs and leaves. In the Plains he’d have seen that deception. These plants, though, he was still learning.

There were a dozen or so, and all he had was a large knife, which he drew, and urged Yssanda forward in front of Lihn, though what good it would do with them all around.

The air shook as Lihn shouted something, and the air burst in a soft thunderclap. One man went down, and two others stopped charging, to tumble sideways.

But those two were up again. Lihn couldn’t fight. Yssanda had hooves. He had a knife. Here at the end of their journey, a dozen brigands were going to end it, and likely their lives.

Rage welled up, and Keth’ shouted “No!” from deep inside.

He woke with someone slapping his cheek. “Son? Are you there? Son?”

He shook his head and garbled out, “I’m all right” in Shin’a’in, then Valdemaran when the man looked at him strangely.

He peered around to see the band of robbers in shackles, being herded by three men on horses. Another man dressed all in white was on a Companion and clearly talking to Yssanda.

“What happened?” he asked.

Lihn appeared above him.

“You did it,” she said, looking down with a smirking grin.

“Did what?”

“You used the mind-magic you disdain so much. I knocked down three with my Storm Blast spell, and that’s all I had, my power for a day or more. You shouted and they all collapsed, clutching their heads. Then you fainted. It’s been half the morning.”

“I did it?”

:You did.:

“Lots of power, no control,” she said. “That’s why you need training.”

It was hard to argue.

Two weeks later, they were near Haven. The roads carried more people than Keth’ had ever seen, with wagons, carriages, horses, donkeys, packs and trucks and carts. The roads had been graveled and marked but now they were paved in some strange material.

“That’s the sign post we were told to seek,” he said. Near it was a small group of people. They were set back from the road and observing the busy traffic, while being out of its way.

“Yes,” Lihn said. “And that must be Master Arak. It is.”

Another old man in a robe, only this one had aged with power in his physique, under the lines.

Next to him Keth’ saw a woman who could only be Herald Captain Kerowyn. With her was one dressed completely in white and another that looked to be of the plains, complete to the fringed leathers that he hadn’t seen in months.

The journey was over. At least, this part of it was.

:Have you decided what you are going to do?:

I’m going to use my Shin’a’in craft and guile.
He replied with a grin.

Keth’re’son shena Talesdrin squared his chin and swallowed a brief spurt of homesickness. No matter what happened, it would be many months or years before he saw his Clan, his family, his plains or Nerea again. Then he smiled. He was ready to do battle—and it would go his way, because these outlanders were no match.