Finding the Way and Other Tales of Valdemar (39 page)

“How did you know I would be going to Valdemar?” he asked.

He knew how, though, even as Quenten spoke.

“Keth’re’son, you must develop your mind magic and your bond with your Companion. That can only be done at the Collegium in Valdemar. I thought you would know of this.” The mage frowned, suddenly looking older as he did.

Keth’ scowled and put down the spoon.

“It’s been suggested. It’s not something I’m interested in or able to do. I have plans for my life that do not include going to a strange land to be schooled as if I were still a child.” He was betrothed to Nerea. His family had horses . . .

The mage looked gently at him. “Keth’re’son, not everything in life is as we plan or wish, and sometimes events change our route.”

:You lied to me.:
If thoughts could burn with accusation his would be acid now.

Keth’ sighed and said, “Who is this student?” He was not conceding the point. He needed more information, though.

Quenten nodded slightly and flicked a bell with his index finger. The tone seemed to penetrate the very walls. A moment later, the student was ushered in. She was elaborately and impractically dressed. The sheen of the finely woven fabric moved like water. It was completely unsuitable for rough travel. The dangling sleeves and the ornately upswept hair did nothing to hide the penetrating glance she gave the young Shin’a’in. With a dismissive shrug she bowed briefly to Master Quenten.

Keth’re’son looked at the girl and felt unnerved. She was pretty, yes, but it was her gaze, far more mature than it should be. She stared back, uninterested except in his potential as a guide, and clearly not impressed by what she saw. He blushed.

Still, there was good pay involved, and he was going to Valdemar, at least to deliver the Companion.

Only to deliver the Companion.

Quenten said, “This is Armaeolihn and this is Keth’re’son shena Tale’sedrin.” His pronunciation was quite good. Keth’ was impressed.

The girl bowed slightly but politely, and he realized she was older than he’d thought. He returned the bow. He thought he should say something, but he wasn’t sure what, so he turned to Quenten.

Quenten said, “You will travel together for safety. Keth’re’son is bonded to a Companion. Armaeolihn, you have your pass, and I shall write one for Keth’re’son. I will also give Keth’re’son a letter to take to Herald Captain Kerowyn, his cousin. She’ll see that he gets paid. If you choose to stay, she will ensure your learning and settle you.”

“How much pay?” he asked. He understood this to be an escort duty, and Shin’a’in were well-sought for that.

Quenten named a sum, and Keth’ opened his mouth to haggle, then kept it open in surprise. That was a goodly sum.

“Then I accept,” he said, before realizing he should have asked for more anyway. Not that he needed to, but still, one should never take the first offer.

“Good. Rest well, and we’ll prepare her horse and a pack beast. You can leave in the morning.”
And be out of my hair
was unspoken, but Keth’re’son heard the undertone. This mind magic was problematic. He heard whispers of things that weren’t spoken, and of course, no one knew how to teach him to control it . . . except in Valdemar.

Another student mage appeared and led him to a comfortable room, with a pitcher of cold, clear water, another of hot, and wine and fruit. Over his protests, his traveling clothes were whisked away, washed and the minor tears of constant travel mended, then returned. At first he was uncomfortable. It felt like an attempt to place a debt on him. Then he concluded it was just service provided to a professional.

Alone, Keth’ spoke to Yssanda.
:Should I do this?:

:You always have been
,
:
he protested.
:You also know these people better than I.:

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

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 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.

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 Companion’s biting sarcasm.

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

Blushing, he turned to look at his previously 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.

“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.

: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.:

He preferred the language lessons to lectures on mind magic.

He understood why he had been hired 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 and rich, 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 toward 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.

: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.

: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. He went on.