Magic's Promise (43 page)

Withen coughed uncomfortably.
“
Van, son - the boy you brought here - he's
that
Tashir, isn't he? Tashir Remoerdis. The Linean.
”

“
He is,
”
Vanyel replied levelly.
“
And the fact that he was Chosen
after
the Remoerdis Family died is reason enough to presume him innocent.
”
He straightened a little.
“
Father, you
know
I wouldn't have brought anyone dangerous here, but he needed a sanctuary, and this was the only place I could think of where no one would look for him.
”

Withen interrupted him with a wave of his hand.
“
That's not what I'm worried about. That boy wouldn't hurt a fly, I'd swear to it myself. It's - what do I do if Liss or somebody else comes looking
for you?”

“
You could give us up,
”
Vanyel sighed, his muscles going to knots.
“
In fact, you should.
”

“
Like
hell I
will!
”
Withen rumbled.
“
You brought him here for sanctuary, and by the gods, he's going to get it!
”

Vanyel relaxed and grinned; the expression startled his father.
“
Father mine,
”
he said warmly,
“
you have just eased my last worry. I was
not
going to foist this walking diplomatic incident on you unwilling, but if
you
have no qualms about continuing to shelter him -
”

Withen snorted.
“
I'll pick up blade and defend him m'self, if I have to.
”

“
I
hope
you won't have to; I
hope
I'll be able to find out who really did this, and clear Tashir entirely. If you don't mind, I'll take that chair you offered.'' Withen nodded, and Vanyel lowered himself into its support gratefully.
“
Randale's playing a very tricky game here; Liss' troop is mostly made up of men from Forst Reach and the holdings in fealty to us. He knows damned well that no matter what the 'official' word is, they'll protect me, with silence, if nothing else, unless
you
- or Liss - indicate differently. Randale trusts my judgment, and he's giving me time to get this sorted out.
”

Withen nodded, one eyebrow raised in tribute to Randale's cleverness.

“
Don't worry, Father, I'll have word and time to get us out of Forst Reach and into hiding in the forest long before anyone dangerous could actually arrive here.''

“
That was all I was worried about, except -
”
Withen tugged his short beard unhappily,
“
-
is
there a chance the Lineans would make a Border-war out of this?
”

Vanyel weighed all the factors in his mind, including Vedric's apparent unwillingness to force the issue. He ruminated a long time, for the most part ignoring his father's increasingly gloomy countenance, before he was able to make a tentative conclusion. He stood then, hoping he looked more confident than he felt.
“
I don't think so, but I pledge you, Father,
”
he said steadily, holding Withen's eyes with his own,
“
before it comes to that, I'll turn both of us over to them myself.
”

And I hope to Havens I never have to make good on that pledge.

The reaction to the news contained in the missive was mixed. On the whole, Vanyel's younger brothers seemed to welcome the prospect of
“
a little excitement
”
with cheerful bloodthirstiness. Mekeal alone of all of them seemed of two minds about the whole thing, first joining in the boasting and enthusiastic weaponry practices, then taking to pacing about the keep muttering about
“
line-of-sight
”
and
“
defensibility
”
with a worried frown creasing his forehead.

Withen made it very plain when the youngster's identity became generally known that he shared Jervis' conviction of Tashir's innocence, and Tashir reacted to his show of faith with disbelief at first. But when Withen himself assured him of his sanctuary, Tashir reacted with a pitiful gratitude that would have softened harder hearts than Withen's.

It was because of
this
that Withen actually got embroiled in a shouting match with Father Leren over Tashir and the question of his disposition, guilt, or innocence; the first time Withen had ever disagreed with the cleric to Vanyel's knowledge.

Tashir's Companion had finally come in to take up nervous residence with Yfandes. This was something of a relief to Vanyel, since Ghost had been frightening the whey out of most of the workers on the holding; they'd see only a flash of something white, usually by night, and then it would be gone, and the rumors of a
“
demon-horse
”
were spreading. Vanyel was trying to coax both the young man and the Companion into a calmer state of mind in which deeper bonding and Mindspeech between the two would be possible, but neither of them were at all willing to be calmed. Ghost, in fact, showed a marked tendency to panic if even the lower half of the outer door to Yfandes' stall was closed while he was in it. Vanyel was about ready to give it up as a hopeless task when Jervis came looking for him, a startling grin transforming his craggy face into a mask of unholy glee.

Relations between the two of them were improving again - slowly. Vanyel suspected Tashir may have had a hand in that, though whether or not that was on purpose he had no idea. But although they were speaking without daggers behind the words, Vanyel had
not
expected to see that kind of expression on the armsmaster's face -
 
ever.

“
Van,
”
Jervis whispered, while Tashir communicated with Ghost in his own way, with brush and murmured words Vanyel couldn't catch.
“
If you're done here, there's somethin' you
have
to hear.
”

Vanyel shrugged, and vaulted over the stall railings.
“
Tashir,
”
he called over his shoulder,
“
why don't you two work off some of that nerve in a good long ride? You're too edgy to trance and I don't blame you.
”

Tashir looked relieved; Ghost lowered his head in a clear gesture of agreement. The young Companion stood steadily for Tashir while his Chosen pulled himself up onto his back, then nosed the stall door open and trotted out into the paddock.

“
All right,
”
Vanyel said, turning back to Jervis.
“
What is all this about?
”

“
Just come with me,
”
Jervis said gleefully, and led Vanyel out of the stable to stand just under one of the windows in the tiny temple.

“
- possessed at the best; a red-handed murderer at the worst!
”
Father Leren was shouting, his voice muffled by all the intervening stone.

“
That boy's no more a murderer than I am!
”
Withen shouted back.
“
You were dead wrong about Vanyel, and by the gods, you're even more wrong about this boy! Van asked me for sanctuary for him,
I
pledged it, and I'm
not
taking back my sworn word!''

“
You're putting your soul in jeopardy, Lord Withen,
”
the priest thundered,
“
The gods -
”

“
The gods my ass!
”
Withen roared, in full and magnificent outrage.
“
There isn't an evil hair on that poor boy's head! Who made
you
the spokesman for the gods? Last
I
was taught, if the gods want something done, they don't bother with a damned mouthpiece, they do it themselves -
or
they choose a vessel and make their power plain! I haven't seen
you
glowing with holy light, old man!
”

Leren sputtered, incoherent, obviously taken aback by this revolt of his erstwhile supporter.

“
And I'll tell you one thing more,
I
judge who's to be Forst Reach priest. I put you
in,
and I can throw you
out
just as easy! If you want to
stay
Forst Reach priest, you'll keep your mouth off Tashir - aye, and while we're at it, off Vanyel as well! When you've done as much for Valdemar as he has, you can call him pervert and catamite to your heart's content, but till you do, you keep a respectful tongue in that head of yours! He's
Herald
Vanyel, first-rank Herald-Mage of Valdemar and confidant of the King, and furthermore he's
my son
and you'd better
damned
well remember that fact!
”

Leren tried to say something else, but Withen's roar drowned him out.

Vanyel signaled that they probably ought to move on; Jervis nodded as he stifled snickers with his hand, biting the edge of it to keep from laughing out loud as they slipped away. Vanyel was too surprised to laugh; it felt as if his eyebrows were about to make a permanent home in his hair.

It was certainly the
last
argument he'd ever expected to overhear.

The falling-out found Leren taking his meals with the hirelings instead of with the family, a circumstance that Vanyel
tried
not to rejoice in, but couldn't help enjoying. It certainly made mealtime easier for
him
to face. The quarrel also gave Jervis ascendancy, and as a result of
that,
Vanyel thought he
might
be detecting a certain softening of Withen's attitude toward his firstborn, although what with everything and everyone stirred up it was impossible to be sure.

That was the state of things when Captain Lissa Ashkevron rode in through the gates of Forst Reach at the head of her company.

“
Lord Withen,
”
said the solemn hatchet-faced woman in dress blues, bowing slightly over her horses's neck in the salute of equals. She waited his response with her helm tucked at a precise angle under her left arm, her bay's reins held at an equally precise angle in her right. The blue-dyed rooster feathers mounted in a socket at the top of the light dress helm fluttered across her arm in the light breeze. Her brown hair had been braided and coiled atop her head with the same military precision that characterized the rest of her equipage.

This was the first time Vanyel had seen his sister
“
on duty,
”
or in any kind of official capacity. She was certainly a far diiferent creature from the careless, untidy hoyden he remembered her being as a child, or even the wild rogue she could become off-duty.

“
Captain Ashkevron.
”
Withen returned her salute, visibly torn between worry and pride.

“
Permission to bivouac the troops, sir.
”

“
Granted.
”
Pride won out, and Withen beamed.
“
The South Home Pasture's been vacated; it's all yours, Captain.
”

“
Thank you, my lord,
”
she replied formally.
“
Sergeant Grayse, front and center!
”

A Guardsman with a brown, round face that seemed vaguely familiar to Vanyel marched crisply from the front rank to Lissa's right stirrup, and waited.

“
South Home Pasture; lead the troops there and bivouac. I'll join you shortly.
”

The sergeant saluted and pivoted, heel and toe, and Vanyel realized why he seemed familiar; Grayse was one of the holding families, and this solid young man must be one of the sons. He barked out a series of orders as Lissa moved her horse off the road; turned again and stepped out with the rest of the troop following as promptly as if they hadn't just spent all day on their feet. Lissa stayed on her horse at semi-attention until the last of her troop was out of sight, then grinned and tossed Vanyel her helm. She dropped her horse's reins as she vaulted out of her saddle, ground-tethering him. As soon as her feet hit the ground she made straight for Withen. Vanyel caught the tumbling helm as she flung her arms around her father's neck and kissed him soundly, and then he held it out of the way as she made it his turn for an enthusiastic embrace, an embrace which he returned one-handed.

“
Weil, Father,
”
she said, after kissing Vanyel just as thoroughly.
“
What do you think of my youngsters?
”

“
Fine!
”
Withen glowed.
“
Damn fine! Gods, I hardly knew my little daughter, up there on her warhorse and in her uniform and all!
”

“
I've never seen you on duty either, Liss,
”
Vanyel reminded her.
“
I think you look wonderful.
”

She hugged him again, then stood beside him with her arm around his waist.
“
I'm just sorry it has to be under alert-conditions,
”
she said soberly.
“
I'm sorry, Father. The last thing I ever wanted to do was -
”