Arrow's Fall (5 page)

“That was basically Kris’ thinking, and I agree. You’re the first person to know besides the two of us. We’ll both be telling Kyril and Elcarth, and I think that’s all.”

“Ye-es,” Keren said slowly. “Yes. Let
those
two worry about who else should know. Well, what ends well
is
well, as they say.”

“I
am
fine,” Talia repeated emphatically. “I have absolute control now, control not even Rolan can shake. In a way, I’m glad it happened; I learned a lot—and it’s made me think about things I never did before.”

“Right, then. Now, let’s take these rags of yours down to the laundry chute—yes, all of them; not even one outfit for tomorrow. After being in the field, they’ll all need refurbishing. Here—” she dug into Talia’s wooden wardrobe, and emerged with a soft, comfortable lounging robe. “Put that on. You won’t be going anywhere tonight, and in the morning Gaytha will have left a pile of new ones at your doorstep—though from the look of you, they’ll be a bit loose, since she’ll have had them made up from the old measurements. We’ve all got a lot of news to catch up on. Oh, and I’ve got a message from Elspeth; Thank the Lady, and I’ll see you in the morning.’ “

“Well, my old and rare, we have got a
lot
of news to catch up on.” Dirk nodded, his mind so fully occupied with things other than his dinner that be never noticed that he was munching his way through a heap of ustil greens, a vegetable he despised with passion.

Kris noticed, and had a difficult time in keeping a straight face. Fortunately the usual chaos of the Collegium common room at dinner gave him plenty of opportunity to look in other directions when the urge to break into a howl of laughter became too great. It was the height of the dinner hour, and every wooden bench was full of students in Grays and instructors in full Heraldic Whites, all shouting amiably at one another over the din.

“So, how did
your
stint go? We greatly appreciated that music, by the way, both of us. We’ve got a goodly portion of it memorized by now.”

“Sh—you did? You do? That’s—” Dirk suddenly realized he was beginning to babble, and ended lamely, “—that’s very nice. I’m glad you liked it.”

“Oh, yes; Talia especially. I think she values your present more than anything anyone else sent her. She certainly has been taking very good care of it—but that’s like her. I’m giving her highest marks; she is one
damn
fine Herald.”

Now Dirk took advantage of the noise and clatter at the tables all about them to cover his own confusion. “Well,” he replied when he finally managed to clear his head a bit of the daze he seemed to be in, “It sounds like you had a more entertaining trainee than I did. And a more interesting round. Mine was so dull and normal Ahrodie and I sleepwalked through most of it.’*

“Lord of Lights—I wish I could claim that! Don’t forget, ‘May your life be interesting* happens to be a very potent curse! Besides, I seem to remember you claiming that young Skif had you worn to a frazzle before the circuit was over.”

“I guess I did,” Dirk chuckled. “Did you know his Cymry dropped a foal, and he blames it all on you two?”

“No doubt, since neither of them have an ounce of shame to spare between them.” Kris ducked as a student burdened with a stack of dirty dishes taller than he was inched past them. “Lord, I hope that youngling’s got one of the Fetching Gifts, or he’s going to lose mat whole stack in a minute—yes, Skif and Cymry deserve what they got. Poor Talia would have been ready to skin both of them given the chance. ...”

“Oh?”

Kris was more and more pleased by Dirk’s reactions, He needed no further urging, and related the tale with relish, stopping short of the fight—which had been caused, in an obscure sort of way, by Dirk—and the swimming match that followed. He insisted then that they ought to take themselves out of the way of those students assigned to clearing tables.

“Fine; my room or yours?” Dirk was doing his damnedest to keep his feelings from showing. Unfortunately, Kris knew him too well; that deadpan dicing face he was putting on only proved he was considerably on edge.

“Good gods, not yours—we’d be lost in there for a week! Mine; and I still have some of that Ehrris-wine, I think. . . .”

The tales continued over the wine and a small fire, both of them lounging at full length in Kris’ old, worn green chairs. And every other sentence Kris spoke seemed to have something to do with Talia. Dirk tried his best to seem interested, but not as obsessed as he actually was. Kris let the shadows hide his faint smile, for he wasn’t fooled a bit.

But not once did Kris let fall the information Dirk
really
wanted to know—and finally, emboldened by the wine, he came out and asked for it.

“Look, Kris—you’re the soul of chivalry, but we’re blood-brothers, you can tell me safely! Were you, or weren’t you?”

“Were we what?” Kris asked innocently.

“S-sleeping together, you nit!”

“Yes,” Kris answered forthrightly. “What did you expect? We’re neither one of us made of ice.” He figured that it was far better for Dirk to hear the truth—and to hear it in such a way that he took it for the matter-of-fact thing that it was. Talia and Dirk were probably tied neck-and-neck for the position of his “best friend.” And that was
all
he and Talia meant to each other. He could no more conceive of being in love with her than with the close friend he now faced. He watched Dirk covertly, weighing his reaction. “I—I suppose it was sort of inevitable—”

“Inevitable—something more. Frankly, during that first winter it was too blamed
cold
to sleep alone.” He launched into the whole tale of their blizzard-ordeal—with editing, He didn’t dare reveal how Talia’s Gift had gotten out of control. Firstly, it wasn’t anything Dirk needed to know about. Secondly, he was fairly certain it was something that should be known by as few as possible. Elcarth and Kyril, certainly—but he was pretty well certain it just wouldn’t be ethical to go around telling anyone else without Talia’s express permission.

He concluded the tale with a certain puzzlement; Dirk seemed to have suddenly gone dumb, and very soon pled exhaustion and left for his own room.

* * * *

Oh, Lord. Of all the damned situations to be in—his very best friend in the entire world with his hooks quite firmly in the first woman Dirk had even wanted to
look
at in years.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t any damned fair. No woman in her right mind was even going to want to look at him with Kris around. And Kris—

Kris—was
he
in love with Talia? And if he were . . .

Gods, gods, they certainly belonged together.

No, dammit! Kris could have any female he wanted, Herald or no, without even lifting a finger! By all the gods, Dirk was going to fight him for this one!

Except that he hadn’t the faintest idea how to go about fighting for her. And—Kris was like a brother, more than a brother. This wasn’t any kind of fair to him—

He lay sleepless for hours that night, staring into the darkness, tossing and turning restlessly, and cursing the nightjar that was apparently singing right outside his window. By dawn he was no closer to sorting out his own feelings than he had been when he threw himself down to rest.

“Talia!”

Elspeth greeted Talia’s appearance at breakfast with a squeal, and a hug that threatened to squeeze the last bit of breath out of her. The last year and a half had added inches to the young Heir’s height; she stood a bit taller than Talia now. Time had added a woman’s curves to the wraithlike child as well. Talia wondered, now that she’d seen Elspeth, if her mother truly realized how much growing she’d done in the time Talia had been gone.

The wood-paneled common room was full of youngsters in student Grays, as most of the instructors had eaten earlier. The bench-and-table-filled room buzzed with sleepy murmuring, and smelled of bacon and porridge. Except for the fact that she recognized few of the faces, and the fact that the room was completely full, it all looked the same as it had when Talia was a student; she slid into the warm, friendly atmosphere like a blade into a well-oiled sheath, and felt as if she had never left.

“Bright Lady, catling, you’re going to break all my ribs!” Talia protested, returning the hug with interest. “I got your message from Keren—I take it Skif
did
tell you I got in last night, didn’t he? I rather expected to find you on my doorstep.”

“I had foal-watch last night.” One of the duties imposed on the students was to camp in Companion’s Field around the time of a foaling, each taking the watch in turn. Companions did not foal with the ease of horses, and if there were complications, seconds could be precious in preserving the life or health of mare and foal.

“Skif told me you were here, and that he’d given you my screech for help—-so I knew I didn’t need to worry anymore, and I certainly didn’t need to disturb
your
sleep.”

“I heard Cymry dropped. Who else?”

“Zaleka.” Elspeth grinned at Talia’s bewildered look of nonrecognition. “She Chose Arven just after you left. He’s twenty if he’s a day, and when Jillian was here during break between assignments—well, you know Jillian, she’s as bad as Destria. Seems her Companion was like-minded. We haven’t half been giving Arven a hard time over it! Zaleka hasn’t dropped yet, but she’s due any day.”

Talia shook her head, and slipped an arm around the Heir’s shoulders. “You younglings! I don’t know what the world’s coming to these days—”

Elspeth gave a very unladylike snort, narrowed her enormous brown eyes, and tossed her dark hair scornfully. “You don’t cozen me! I’ve heard tales about you and
your
year-mates that gave me gray hairs! Climbing in and out of windows at the dead of night with not-so-ex-thieves! Spying on the Royal Nursemaid!”

“Catling—” Talia went cold sober. “Elspeth—I’m sorry about Hulda.” She met Elspeth’s scrutiny squarely.

Elspeth grimaced bitterly at the name of the nursemaid who had very nearly managed to turn her into a spoiled, unmanageable monster—and came close to eliminating any chance of her being Chosen.

“Why? You caught her red-handed in conspiracy to keep
me
from ever getting to be Heir,” she replied with a mixture of amusement and resentment—the amusement at Talia’s reaction, the resentment reserved for Hulda. “Sit, sit, sit! I’m hungry, and I refuse to have to crane my neck up to talk to you.”

“You—you aren’t angry at me?” Talia asked, taking a seat beside Elspeth on the worn wooden bench. “I wanted to tell you I was responsible for her being dismissed, but, frankly, I never had the courage.”

Elspeth smiled a little. “You didn’t have the courage? Thank the Lady for that! I was afraid you were perfect!”

“Hardly,” Talia replied dryly.

“Well, why not tell me your end of it now? I just got it secondhand from Mother and Kyril.”

“Oh, Lord—where do I begin?”

“Mm—chronologically, as you found it out.” Elspeth seized a mug of fruit juice from a server and plumped it down in front of her seatmate.

“Right. It really started for me when I tried to get to know you. Hulda kept blocking me.”

“How?”

“Carrying you off for lessons, saying you were asleep, or studying, or whatever other excuse she could come up with. Catling, I was only about fourteen, and a fairly unaggressive fourteen at that;
I
wasn’t about to challenge her! But it just happened too consistently not to be on purpose. So I enlisted Skif.”

Elspeth nodded. “Good choice. If there was anybody likely to find out anything, it would be Skif. I know for a fact he still keeps his hand in—”

“Oh? How?”

Elspeth giggled. “Whenever he’s in residence he leaves me sweets hidden in the ‘secret’ drawer of the desk in my room. With notes.”

“Oh, Lord—you haven’t told anybody, have you?”

Elspeth was indignant. “And give him away? Not a chance! Oh, I’ve told Mother in case he ever gets caught— which isn’t likely—but I swore her to secrecy first.”

Talia sighed in relief. “Thanks be to the Lady. If anybody other than Heralds found out... “

Elspeth sobered. “I know. At worst he could be killed before a Guard knew he was a Herald and it was a prank. Believe me, I know. Mother was rather amused— and rather glad, I think. It can’t hurt to have somebody with skills like
that
in the Heralds. Anyway, you recruited Skif . . .”

“Right; he began sneaking around, and discovered that Hulda, rather than being the subordinate as everyone thought, had taken over control of the nursery and your education. She was drugging old Melidy, who was
supposed
to be your primary nurse. Well, that seemed wrong to me, but it wasn’t anything I could prove because Melidy
had
been ill—she’d had a brainstorm. So I had Skif keep watching. That was when he discovered that Hulda was in the pay of someone unknown—paid to ensure that you could never be Chosen, and thus, never become Heir.”

“Bitch.” Elspeth’s eyes were bright with anger. “I take it neither you nor he ever saw who it was?”

Talia shook her head regretfully, and took a sip of fruit juice. “Never. He was always masked, cloaked, and hooded. We told Jadus, Jadus told the Queen—and Hulda vanished.”

“And I only knew that I’d lost the one person at Court I was emotionally dependent on. I’m not surprised you kept quiet.” Elspeth passed Talia a clean plate. “Oh, I might have gotten angry if you’d told me two or three years ago, but not now.”