Chapter 1

"I'm sending you to Haven, son."

Whatever Vanyel had expected his father to say when he took him aside before dinner, this wasn't it. "To Haven, sir?" he repeated carefully.

Withen nodded firmly. "I need a set of eyes and ears there. Just for the summer season, mind, you'll be home in time for the harvest."

"But..." He cut himself off before he could ask why Withen wasn't sending Mekeal or one of his other brothers instead. Vanyel didn't want to stay here and dutifully trot around behind his father as Withen went about his duties as Lord Holder.

"The fact is, son, that when those folks in Haven think of Forst Reach, they need to be able to put a face to the name. They'll be a lot more inclined to support us if they can think 'Ashkevron', not 'horses and farmers', and with the border so close, we need all the help we can get."

Vanyel nodded slowly. The logic made sense - more sense than he would have expected from his father - and yet, the unspoken question of "Why me?" remained. Maybe he's realised that Mekeal would make a far better Lord Holder than I would - and he'd enjoy it to boot. If I'm in Haven, Meke can take over some of my duties. It hurt, but as long as Withen wasn't planning some way to get rid of Vanyel permanently...

He tried to read his father's expression, but he could make out nothing other than that Withen was uncomfortable with the conversation.

"The connections you make in Haven will shape the rest of your life, son."

And suddenly everything fell into place. Oh, hellfire. He doesn't want me to make friends; he wants me to find a wife. Vanyel's blood ran cold, the same way it always did when he thought of marriage. Twenty-two years old and I still feel nothing when I look at a woman. What is wrong with me?

"I've arranged rooms with an old friend of mine. You're leaving next week."

"Yes, father," said Vanyel, giving no outward indication of his churning thoughts. I just want somebody I can talk to. Somebody like Liss; somebody who will treat me like an equal. I don't want to end up like father and mother, with nothing in common and nothing to talk about.

"I also sent a letter to your Aunt Savil," said Withen, and his expression grew even more strained. "She has Court connections and I've asked her to help you get established."

This just kept getting worse and worse. Playing nice with the ladies of Court and under the thumb of his dragon aunt? Being Lord Heir of Forst Reach had never seemed so attractive.

"I understand, father." He hesitated for a moment. "Thank you." Undoubtedly his father expected he would be thrilled at this opportunity to expand his horizons, and resented him for it.

Withen patted him awkwardly on the shoulder, but was saved from a response by the dinner bell.

Hell, maybe Father's even right, thought Vanyel, as he trailed in his father's wake towards the dining hall. Maybe I will find somebody in Haven.

--

"You're Withen's lad?" asked the gruff old man who had to be his father's old friend, Lord Grayel. "There's not much resemblance, if you don't mind me saying so."

"I'm Vanyel Ashkevron, yes," said Vanyel. He cocked his head to the side. "They say I take after my mother."

Lord Grayel snorted. "You may, at that. I haven't seen Treesa since she was a girl, but she was a pretty lass. You'll do well at Court, with a face like that."

Vanyel fought back a blush, but he found himself liking this brash, outspoken man.

"I've arranged for you to be introduced to the Queen tomorrow, and I'll give you a tour of the city, but most days you'll be left to your own devices. I'm sure you'll come up with something to occupy yourself."

The rooms he was shown to were comfortable without being extravagant. His packs were already next to the bed, waiting to be unpacked. He winced internally as he thought of the state his clothing must be in after several days of travel. His shirts would undoubtedly be completely crushed.

"I've invited my niece to join us for dinner," said Lord Grayel. "It won't be for another candlemark, so you should have time to get ready." He winked. "You'll hear the bell when it's time to come down."

Oh hellfire, thought Vanyel. I wonder if Father asked him to do that. He sat on the bed for several moments after Lord Grayel left, trying to sort through conflicting emotions. I haven't even met her, so why do I feel so resentful? If she's anything like her uncle she's probably going to be ten times more interesting than any of the ladies back home.

In the end, vanity won out over resentment. He almost wanted to laugh at himself. What's the point of bringing all these fine clothes if I won't wear them? Talk about cutting off your nose to spite your face.

Choosing the right sort of clothing occupied him for far longer than he would have expected, and he wished he'd had more warning. It needed to be conservative, since he didn't know what was in fashion in Haven, and he had to find clothes that hadn't been too badly crushed in the journey to Haven. Black is probably going to be too dramatic, even if it does look good on me. Blue, perhaps?

He steadfastly ignored the little voice in his head telling him that he didn't need to spend so much time on what he wore. This isn't Forst Reach, father. Appearances are important here.

Vanyel finished dressing just in time for the bell and hurried downstairs.

Lord Grayel's niece was named Carissa; she was nineteen years old and a student at the Bardic Collegium. Vanyel felt a little twist in his gut at that discovery, but managed to maintain a neutral facade of interest as she talked about her studies.

"Do you play anything?" she asked, turning dark brown eyes on him.

Vanyel swallowed. "No... not anymore. I used to, a little. Lute."

"Oh," she said. "That's a pity."

Vanyel wanted to apologise, but he took another sip of wine instead. "What do you play?"

Lord Grayel snorted. "You'd be better off asking what she doesn't play."

Carissa gave her uncle a tolerant smile. "I like to experiment," she said. "The artisans at Bardic always have something new for me to try."

"Like what?" asked Vanyel, curious in spite of himself.

After the meal, Lord Grayel left them alone on a pretext so obvious that Vanyel felt his cheeks burning with humiliation.

Carissa rolled her eyes as soon as her uncle had departed. "Listen, Vanyel, I think I need to let you know that no matter what my uncle has told you, I'm not looking for a husband right now."

Vanyel blinked and struggled to come up with a response. "I, er--"

"I'm sure you're very nice and all, but I'm not just at Bardic for fun. I'm going to be a Bard, and I'm going to play in noble houses and it's going to be a long, long time before I want to marry anybody."

"I don't want to get married either," offered Vanyel hesitantly.

She glanced at him sharply.

"Perhaps we could just be friends?" he continued.

Carissa appeared to consider that for a moment. "No, I don't think so. It doesn't matter what we tell anybody, they'll assume we're courting each other."

Vanyel felt himself flush again. "I see."

"I'm sorry, I must seem terribly rude. But I want to make a point to my family that this sort of thing is not acceptable, and the sooner they accept my choices in life the sooner we can all move on."

Vanyel nodded. "I understand."

"So, I'll be going now. I'll explain to my uncle on the way out."

"Good luck," he told her, in complete sincerity.

--

>
> Dear Vanyel, > > I'm sorry I was unable to greet you upon your arrival in Haven, but I was unavoidably detained on Crown business. > > Since I am at present confined to my suite in the Herald's quarters, I would like to invite you to join me here for dinner tomorrow night. > > Please send a message back if you are amenable to this arrangement. > > Regards,
> Herald-Mage Savil

Savil read the note over once, then gave it to one of the servants to deliver. If she sounded pompous, well, there was nothing she could do about that.

I don't have time for this, Withen, you arrogant ass. If you'd wanted him to have 'connections' you should have sent him to the Collegium when he was a boy.

She'd only met Vanyel once and remembered him as spoiled, arrogant and far too pretty for his own good. She could hardly imagine what another eight years had wrought.

The sole puzzle to her mind was Withen's reference to "suitable female company". Had Vanyel been courting the wrong kind of girl? Sleeping around with no thought to marriage?

If he's twenty-two and no hint of an engagement on the horizon, I should think the problem is whether or not the male is suitable, not the female company he courts. Gods!

The afternoon brought with it a reply from her nephew.

>
> Dear Aunt, I would be honoured to join you in your suite tomorrow evening. > > Sincerely, Vanyel Ashkevron.

Well, at least he's polite, thought Savil.

Polite and punctual - Vanyel arrived at her door right at the specified time and greeted her with an elegant, charming smile. He was dressed well, although she didn't know enough of the current fashions to determine whether he'd made a special effort or not.

A decade had only improved his features, and the sullen arrogance of youth had been replaced by a refined indifference that Savil didn't quite know what to make of. "You'll forgive me not getting up," said Savil, indicating her bound leg, "but I'm under orders not to move on pain of death."

Vanyel took the chair she indicated and sat down carefully. "If those orders are from the Healer, I think that would be counter-productive," he commented.

She would bet that wit was winning him friends in Court. She snorted in response. "Logic is often lost on Healers, I'm afraid."

Vanyel gave her a tentative smile.

"So, you've been in Haven a week. How are you finding it?"

Vanyel hesitated, and she was abruptly reminded of a trickster trying to decide between roles. Her perception of her nephew shifted again.

Apparently settling on 'cheerful and somewhat vapid', Vanyel replied, "Oh, it's fine. Everybody has been very friendly and it's a beautiful city. I'm sure I will be very happy here."

"I would have invited you earlier, but as you can see, circumstances delayed my return."

Vanyel glanced at her injured leg. "May I ask what happened?"

"Karsite demon got through my shields," she said bluntly. "I wasn't prepared for ambush at a diplomatic meeting. We managed to fight them off, but it was a close call."

"Oh," said Vanyel.

An awkward pause followed, which she was accustomed to receiving whenever she discussed a Herald-Mage's duties with the un-Gifted. To Vanyel's credit, he didn't seem frightened of her, just... subdued.

Better that than his eyes light up and demand more details, she thought. She'd seen that far too often with young men of his upbringing.

"I--" she started, but her reply was cut short by a knock on her door. A little irritated at the interruption and hoping it wasn't a sign of something desperately wrong, she gestured at the door. "Could you get that for me?"

Vanyel rose with easy grace - I bet he practices that, she thought cynically - and opened the door.

"Oh, I... Isn't this Herald-Mage Savil's suite?"

She thought she recognised that confused voice, and she was justified when a familiar dark-gold head popped around the door. "Tylendel? It's all right, come on in. I'm just bed-ridden at the moment."

Tylendel gave Vanyel a sideways glance, but walked to her smoothly, and picked up her hand to kiss it in greeting. "You, confined to your suite? I bet the staff are hating every moment."

"You bet the staff are hating it!" she said, in mock outrage.

"Well, with your temper, how could they not?"

Savil laughed. "Gods, I've missed you. What happened? We weren't expecting you back for another week."

"Gala and I were quite sick of being on the road, so we pushed every boundary we could to get back as quickly as possible. And, before you ask, we have a very fine treaty to show for our efforts."

"Well, at least something is going right," she remarked.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Vanyel gingerly sitting back down on the edge of his chair. "Tylendel, I'd like to introduce you to my nephew, Vanyel Ashkevron. Vanyel, this is Herald-Mage Tylendel Frelennye."

Tylendel glanced at Vanyel with renewed interest. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Vanyel."

:Down, boy,: she said, establishing a Mindspeech link with ease. :He's his father's heir.: Best to nip this one in the bud. Tylendel was a little too quick to lose his heart to impossible causes.

Vanyel murmured something polite in response.

:He is lovely, though,: replied Tylendel, punctuating it with a purely mental sigh. :You don't let me have any fun at all.:

:If he's anything like his father you'll only get your heart broken. I'm just looking out for your well-being.:

Another mental sigh.

"Vanyel, would you mind if we take a third for dinner? Tylendel was my own trainee, and it's been a good year since we've had a chance to talk." She winked at 'Lendel. "Who knows when we'll get another chance? You could be whisked off on another mission tomorrow."

"You're being unfair. I should think I'll have at least a week!" Tylendel protested, laughing.

Vanyel blinked slowly. "No, of course," he said quietly. "I understand."

She felt a little bad, but of the choice between awkward conversation with her nephew and Tylendel's always-witty commentary on his latest missions, well - there wasn't any choice.

"Tell me about Hardorn," demanded Savil.

--

Despite his best efforts, that evening in Savil's suite kept coming to the fore of Vanyel's thoughts the next day, and the day after that.

Unable to concentrate on his reading, he'd finally taken the opportunity to explore the palace gardens.

His thoughts burned with humiliation at how quick his aunt had been to dismiss him, but the arrival of the second Herald had, he felt, made up for that failure. Throughout the day he was periodically distracted by one memory or another of something the Herald had said, and it never failed to bring a smile to his face.

Even envy and a dash of resentment couldn't bring him to dislike Tylendel Frelennye.

"Oi! Vanyel!"

Vanyel looked up and, as if his thoughts had summoned him, Tylendel finished striding the few steps between them. "Herald Tylendel," he greeted him politely, ignoring the little swoop of delight in his stomach that the Herald had recognised him. Gods. What does that mean?

"I want to apologise for the other night. It was unaccountably rude of me to interrupt your dinner with your aunt."

Vanyel laughed brightly. "Oh, Havens, don't worry about that."

Tylendel cocked his head to the side and looked Vanyel up and down. "Savil says you're new to Haven."

He nodded. "It's just for the summer; my father wants me to widen my horizons. Forst Reach is a long way from Haven."

"Right at the border with Lineas, isn't it? Where are you staying?"

"With Lord Grayel, in town. He's an old friend of my father's."

Tylendel nodded. "I've met him. I think he was-- Oh, hellfire, hide me?" He ducked and made a token effort to conceal himself behind Vanyel.

Vanyel stared at the Herald in bemusement, but soon became aware of somebody else running towards them.

"Herald Tylendel, sir! I have a message for you!" The palace servant bowed quickly to both of them.

"Oh, let's have it," said Tylendel, straightening himself. "But if it's another meeting I'm lodging a formal protest. I've hardly had a moment to myself since I got back." He unsealed the message and read it through.

Vanyel had been preparing to sneak away, but Tylendel caught his eye again. "Just a social invitation, thank the gods."

"Shall I take a message back?" asked the servant.

"Yes, tell Randale I'll be happy to take dinner with him."

The page nodded and departed.

Vanyel shifted his weight onto his other leg. "Was there something else you wanted, Herald Tylendel?"

"Gods, don't keep trotting out my rank like that. We're the same age, or near to it."

Vanyel nodded uncomfortably and waited for him to continue.

"I just wanted to know that you can ask me if there's anything you need. I know how hard it can be to establish yourself in a new place."

"Thank you," said Vanyel. "But I can't think of anything." It's not like I can ask him to find me a girl who won't leave me cold, or an interest in rural politics, he told himself. And I don't think Father approves of Heralds.

Tylendel looked at him for a moment. "Well, if you think of something, the offer's still there. I'm in the Herald's quarters. Any of the servants should be able to tell you where."

Vanyel nodded again.

"Then, for now, farewell, Vanyel Ashkevron." Tylendel waved cheerfully as he departed, leaving only confusion in his wake.

--

Savil was trying to decipher a legal contract on too little sleep and the words kept running into each other, refusing to make sense no matter how many times she reread each sentence. The knock on her door was more than welcome.

A light Mindtouch told her who her visitor was. "It's not locked," she said. "Come in, Tylendel."

Once Tylendel was settled in the chair opposite her, she pointed a finger at him. "And what brings you here again so soon? You should be making the most of every moment of freedom you get."

"But I can't think of any better way to spend my time than with my favourite teacher," he said impishly.

She snorted. "With my temper like this? Try again, lad."

"You caught me. It's not just that. I ran into your nephew again today." Tylendel's lips quirked into a mockery of a smile. "Havens, it's like talking to a wall, trying to get a reaction out of him."

"Who? Oh, Vanyel?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "What did I tell you about not falling for him? His father is a hidebound old fool with prejudices coming out his ears, and if Vanyel is anything like him--"

Tylendel nodded quickly. "That's just it. I think you're wrong about him. He doesn't want to be like his father."

"He has more sense than I gave him credit for, then." Tylendel's Empathy might not be strong, but it was enough to pick up emotional currents beyond the obvious in casual conversation. There was a good chance that whatever he'd picked up from Vanyel was accurate.

"He wants his father's approval," added Tylendel. "But that's not the same thing."

Savil snorted. "Withen won't be satisfied until he has a little copy of himself."

Tylendel smiled wryly. "I was afraid you'd say something like that."

Savil tried to follow his line of thought. "You think he's been forcing himself into that mould? Being the perfect son even when he doesn't want to be?"

"More than that, I think he's taught himself that wanting things for himself is wrong. He has to know that isn't healthy."

Something about Tylendel's earnest expression made her suspicious. "'Lendel, just what are you plotting?" It wouldn't be the first time Tylendel picked up on something from a person and just decided to help because he could... but it also wouldn't be the first time he'd had ulterior motives.

"Nothing! He's hurting and he doesn't even seem to realise it. I just want to help him, that's all."

"You're no MindHealer. Look, I'll talk to him. I know what Withen's like, maybe I can get through to him."

"Savil, don't take this the wrong way, but I don't think you stand a chance of getting through his walls. I love you dearly, but you are terrible with people."

Savil sighed. "It's a wise woman who knows her weaknesses. All right, you take him on. But, 'Lendel, don't fall in love with him, no matter who he ends up being under all that repression."

"I understand, teacher mine," said Tylendel cheerfully. "But if he comes to me I'm not going to turn him down. I am not made of stone!"

--

The worst part of Court evenings were the mind-numbing repetition. The same conversations, night after night, just repeated with different faces (and sometimes not even that). And it all seemed so pointless! The vast majority of the women he met were either already engaged or just like the ones at home - and sometimes both. Some of them even seemed to be pretending to be brainless to get his attention, which just made him feel sick inside.

And even the ones that seemed intelligent, he just... couldn't see himself marrying them, no matter how pretty the face or enjoyable the conversation.

On this particular evening, Vanyel had been welcomed into a circle of girls a few years younger than him and was currently listening to them gossip about some couple he'd never even heard of. His attention wandered around the ballroom, searching for another group that would be likely to welcome his company.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Herald Tylendel enter, accompanied by another Herald and a woman in Healer's greens.

Vanyel waved politely when the Herald caught his gaze, but Tylendel seemed happily occupied talking to his friends so Vanyel didn't even try to disengage himself from his gaggle of women.

"Ooh, Vanyel, who is that?" breathed one of the girls.

It didn't take much to guess who she meant. "Herald-Mage Tylendel," said Vanyel diffidently. "He was my esteemed aunt's protégé."

One of the other girls sighed. "Oh, a Herald." Some of the other girls imitated her sigh.

"What's wrong with Heralds?" asked Vanyel, confused.

"You don't want to marry a Herald, you'll always be second-place to 'duty'." She formed air-quotes with elegant fingers, then followed it up with a conspiratorial wink. "If you're looking for a temporary diversion, though..."

The first girl's expression turned speculative. "Do you think you could arrange an introduction?"

Vanyel froze, instantly wanting to refuse for no reason that seemed immediately apparent to him.

He was saved by the snort of another girl. "Tylendel Frelennye? Forget him, Sira. Vanyel would have a better chance than you would."

Sira's brow furrowed for a moment. "Oh! You mean he's..."

"Mmhmm." The girl smiled smugly. "I knew him as a trainee. No doubt about it, I'm afraid."

"Oh, poot. And he's so handsome, too!"

Vanyel managed to extricate himself from the group, his mind whirling. His memory just kept repeating, "Vanyel would have a better chance", over and over.

Lost in thought, he wandered out of the hall and into the silent gardens.

Had he misinterpreted the conversation completely? Was it even possible for men to be interested in other men?

The entire idea seemed boggling, and yet... and yet...

It was like finding the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle. So many things suddenly seemed to make sense, where they never had before.

Vanyel found himself at the fence that marked the Companion's Field, and leant over it heavily. Father must think I'm like him. It's the only thing that makes sense. Oh, gods. Is he right? I've never... I just thought I was looking for a different kind of girl...

"Vanyel?"

Gods. The last person I wanted to see. He turned to face Tylendel, schooling his face into a mask of neutrality.

"Vanyel, are you all right?"

Vanyel laughed. "Oh, Havens, yes. I just needed some fresh air - it get so hot at these events. You didn't need to come all the way out here after me."

Tylendel frowned at him.

"I'm fine," added Vanyel desperately.

"Van, I just want to help you, all right? I know you're upset, and if you want to talk about it, I'm here. It doesn't matter what you say, I'm not going to tell anybody else. I'm a Herald; you can trust me."

Vanyel shook his head, and looked back over the silent field.

Tylendel walked over to stand beside him. He didn't speak, but Vanyel could feel his presence anyway.

Long moments passed, and Tylendel didn't seem to be growing restless.

Vanyel took a deep breath, then let it out again. "Do you ever feel like you're fighting between your duty and what you want?"

Tylendel's expression turned distant for a moment. "More than most, I expect. Any Herald would."

Vanyel felt his hopes fall. "You mean, you just have to do your duty, no matter how you feel about it?"

Tylendel shook his head, making his curls bounce lightly in the night breeze. "If you never think of yourself you'll just keep giving and giving until either you have nothing left, or you go crazy. No, you have to decide whether what you want is in conflict with your duty or not."

"How do you mean?"

"Say..." Tylendel looked at him sidelong. "Getting married. Just because it's what's expected of you doesn't mean it's your duty. Duty is a lot more complicated than just making other people happy."

Vanyel furrowed his brow. "But surely that's the entire reason for duty. Making other people happy."

"Hmm." Tylendel was silent for a moment. "It depends on who you're performing your duty for. Now, a Herald performs his or her duty for the sake of Valdemar's people. As a Lord Holder, your duty is the same, only a little more restricted."

Vanyel nodded, still confused.

"To the people. Not to your father, or your mother, to general society, or even to the Crown, although it's generally considered wise to follow the Crown's wishes."

Tylendel winked, and Vanyel found himself smiling back tentatively.

"As far as I'm concerned, if your people are being looked after, it shouldn't matter what you do in your spare time." Tylendel paused for a moment. "Well, within reason, of course."

Maybe that's why he doesn't mind what the Court thinks of him, thought Vanyel. I wish I had that kind of self-confidence.

Unbidden, on the heels of that thought came, I wish I had him.

Vanyel pushed himself away from the fence hurriedly. "Thank you, Herald Tylendel. You... you've given me a lot to think about."

He turned and walked to the great hall without looking back, in case Tylendel turned that smile on him again.

--

After a week in Haven his room was starting to feel a little more like home, but Tylendel knew from experience that as soon he started growing comfortable it would be time to leave again.  

Now, he paced the length of the room, memorising the lengths of the wall with every turn. The candles were growing shorter and he knew he should be sleeping, but his restless thoughts would not give him peace.

Was that spark of interest I felt just wishful thinking? Am I just letting my own attraction to him get in the way? Vanyel was handsome enough to have almost anyone he wanted, so it wasn't difficult to come up with certain reasons he might still remain unmarried...

Tylendel sat down on the comfortable armchair that decorated the south corner of his room, then got up again immediately.

It's not just physical attraction, he admitted to himself ruefully. No, physical attraction I can fight. I don't want to bed him, I want to cuddle him and talk with him and make him smile again. He sighed. No, this is definitely encroaching on 'infatuation' territory.

He threw himself down on the bed face-first. Ah, Savil is right, I'm a fool for a lost cause.

Gala broke into his thoughts gently. :You are a right idiot, but... I don't think you're wrong in what you're picking up from him.:

Tylendel felt his hopes rise, then abruptly squashed them again. :But that doesn't get around his being his father's heir. Even if we started something now...: He knew how that story ended.

:He'd eventually have to get married, or he'd be called back home.:

:Or someone would find out and he'd be forced to disavow me to 'protect' me.: He tried to suppress the swell of bitterness that came with that thought, but he knew Gala felt it anyway.

Gala sent back a pulse of wordless love and acceptance, and he basked in it for a moment.

Tylendel's gaze fell on his packs lying accusingly in the corner, still only half unpacked. Havens, I'm not sure why I'm even considering starting a relationship now, when I could be called back to the border at any moment.

The more he thought about it, the more selfish it seemed. I've spoken to Heralds in relationships with non-Heralds. The misunderstandings, the hurt feelings... It's not fair to put a lover through that.

:Just because something's hard doesn't mean it's not worth doing,: said Gala unexpectedly. :But... never mind, I expect you're right.:

:Better a stable friendship than a broken heart, dearling.:

But still, he wished...

--

Vanyel navigated the fence that marked the edge of the Companion's Field slowly, trying his best to look like he was just taking a casual morning stroll. It was a beautiful day for it - still early enough that the day hadn't truly started to heat up, there was a cool breeze tickling his hair and bringing with it the varied scents of summer bloom.

The sound of hoof beats on dry grass caught his ear, but he deliberately didn't turn until he heard them stop.

"Heyla, Vanyel," said Tylendel cheerfully.

"Oh, Herald Tylendel," said Vanyel, in affected surprise. "I didn't realise you'd be out today." Which was a blatant lie - one of the servants had told him Herald Tylendel was out riding with his Companion. He cleared his throat. "Thank you for the other night. I'm sorry if I was rude to you."

Tylendel shook his head. "No ruder than I deserved for bullying you into talking to me."

The needed apology over with, Vanyel found further words stuck in his throat. He was getting a crick in his neck from looking up at Tylendel and his Companion.

"Did you have any plans for this morning?" asked Tylendel suddenly.

"No," Vanyel replied. "Not this morning."

"Would you like to come for a ride with Gala and I?"

"Gala?" repeated Vanyel, confused.

Tylendel patted his Companion's neck. "This is Gala, my Companion. Gala, this is Vanyel Ashkevron." He was silent for a moment, then grinned. "She says she's pleased to meet you."

Vanyel gave a little half-bow. "And I, her. She's beautiful." He'd never been so close to a Companion before. They might look like horses, but the way Gala was standing, patient and attentive, wasn't horse-like at all.

Gala arched her neck proudly. "Don't feed her vanity," said Tylendel, and Gala stamped a foot in response.

Vanyel found himself smiling in spite of himself.

"You do have a horse, don't you?" When Vanyel nodded, he continued, "Well, go get saddled up. I'll meet you at the entrance to the North trail." He didn't appear to have even considered that Vanyel would say no.

True to his word, Tylendel was waiting for him at the trail when Vanyel and Star rode up.

"And who is this lovely lady?" asked Tylendel.

"Her name is Star," said Vanyel, feeling a little shy.

Tylendel bowed slightly in the saddle. "Well, Star, I'll let you lead. I wouldn't want to make a horse try to keep up with a Companion."

Vanyel urged Star into a gentle trot. The sun was warm on his back, and for a while he even forgot his riding companion, losing himself in the simple pleasure of riding. It's been a long time... Star, I've been neglecting you, I'm afraid.

Realising he had been silent for longer than strictly polite, Vanyel cleared his throat. "I haven't ridden like this in years."

Tylendel cocked his head. "That doesn't really surprise me. When was the last time you did something purely for fun?" When Vanyel shrugged, Tylendel's expression softened. "Don't you have any hobbies, Van?"

Van. It wasn't the first time that nickname had slipped out, but Vanyel couldn't find it in himself to question it. "I used to play lute," he said slowly.

"Used to? Why did you stop?"

Vanyel shrugged. "Father never approved of it. I stopped after... After I convinced him to let me study other fighting styles than what our arms master taught." It just hadn't seemed worth fighting, after he'd wrangled that concession out of his father.

"When was that?"

Almost six years ago, but Vanyel wasn't about to admit that. "A while back."

"So, what, you won the first battle and you decided not to fight the rest?"

Vanyel glanced at him, startled and a little offended.

"I'm not trying to hurt you, Van, I'm just trying to get you to think."

Vanyel looked away for a moment. "We spend a lot of time talking about me," he said carefully. "Why don't you tell me about yourself for a change?"

Tylendel slowed down, and Vanyel reined Star in to match his gait. "There isn't much to tell about me."

"Well, do you have any family?"

A shadow passed over Tylendel's face. "Not anymore," he said shortly. "The Heralds are my family now."

Vanyel hesitated. "Can I ask why?"

Tylendel shook his head. "Not right now. Someday, maybe. It's not a good story for a lovely day like this."

"Oh," said Vanyel.

They rode in silence for a while. Gods, why do I have to be so awkward? He's been nothing but kind to me, and I go and make him depressed. "What made you decide to become a Herald?"

Tylendel's lips twitched. "You don't decide to become a Herald, Van. The Companions choose you."

"Oh," said Vanyel. Now that Tylendel mentioned it... "Is that what the Companion's Choice they mention in the songs is?"

Tylendel nodded. "If you have the right qualities to be a Herald and Valdemar needs you, a Companion will find you."

"Well, were you happy to be chosen?"

Tylendel looked away for a moment. "That's another long story," he said, finally. "But - yes. Yes, I was happy." He patted Gala's neck. "Gala is my best friend in the world. It makes all the long border duties in the world worth it to have her with me."

Vanyel felt a little twist of envy, and swallowed against a lump in his throat.

"But you ask any Herald, they'll probably tell you the same thing."

A butterfly fluttered across the path, and Star whuffled at it gently. Van reined her in and smiled. "I think we're boring her with all this talk."

Tylendel raised a delicate dark-gold brow. "Oh? Well, we'll see what can we do about that..." Without any sign of consultation, Gala set off at a run.

Laughing in spite of himself, Vanyel kicked Star into following.

--

Vanyel gently tuned the lute Lord Grayel had found for him, sitting cross-legged on his bed. One of Carissa's old practice instruments, he had been told, although it had far finer a sound than any practice instrument Vanyel had ever used. Carissa clearly had a great ear for instruments - but a Bardic student would.

Once the lute sounded good, he quickly ran through a few scales, wincing a little as the strings pressed into finger-pads gentled by years of disuse. He closed his eyes and tried to remember some of the pieces he'd been able to play by heart.

His mind might have forgotten, but his muscles hadn't, quite. He managed to pick out several songs - slowly, with a few sour notes, and his memory for the lyrics was quite gone, but... it was adequate.

Gods, it's like coming home. I'd forgotten how much I loved this.

A knock on the door startled him from his reverie. "Come in."

One of the servants nodded to him politely. "Sir, there's a Herald here to see you."

Vanyel started. "A Herald?"

"Yes, sir. I've left him in the parlour."

Well, if the Herald was male, that only left one likely candidate... Vanyel's heart thudded in his chest and he took a few breaths to calm himself before braving the stairs.

Tylendel seemed pleased to see him, but there was a worried crease in his forehead that reminded Vanyel of the way he'd looked when Vanyel had asked about his family. "I'm sorry to come by unannounced. I hope you weren't busy."

Vanyel shook his head. "I was just practicing the lute."

Tylendel's smile turned more genuine. "How is it?"

"Hardly fit for public consumption yet," said Vanyel, with a theatrical sigh. "But there's hope yet."

"You'll have to play for me when I get back."

"Get back?"

Tylendel nodded. "That's why I'm here. As predicted, the Crown has ordered me back to the border. It'll probably be several months - maybe three, possibly six."

"Oh," said Vanyel, his stomach feeling like it was somewhere in the vicinity of his knees.

"I thought you'd want to hear it from me," said Tylendel gently.

"Will you--" Vanyel swallowed. "I mean. Be careful."

"I will. Promise." Tylendel looked at the ceiling for a moment. "Listen, Van, I'm probably the last person to lecture anybody about their duty, hypocrite that I am, but... Just think about what I said. You're not doing anybody any favours forcing yourself to be somebody you're not."

"I understand," said Vanyel.

"And try to relax. Havens, it's like you're a statue, most days. I think you scare people off."

Vanyel wanted to take offense, but Tylendel's teasing smile relaxed him again. "I'll try."

I'm going to miss him, he thought to himself, after Tylendel had left with promises to write. More than I miss anyone at home, and we've only spoken a few times. I've never felt this happy to be with a person before; not even Liss.

Gods. Maybe he's right; maybe I'm just lonely.

He laughed at himself softly. Why am I even worrying about this? Relax, make some friends - that's just what Father told me to do. Maybe if I'm not so focussed on finding a girl to marry it'll be easier.

Back in his room, Vanyel picked up his lute and picked out another song he remembered from before.

This thing with Father... Part of me wants to prove he's wrong, and the other half wants to prove he's right and prove I can do my duty, and do it well.

He thought about that for a moment. Well, I've already tried it the first way and just made myself miserable. I guess I'll try it the other way for a while.

--

>
> Dear Vanyel, I would be pleased if you were to join me for dinner in my suite in two night’s time. Regards, Savil.

Savil hoped the note weren't so short it was terse - any platitudes or excuses she tried to force onto the page came out awkward and insincere. If it's long, I sound officious, if it's short I sound rude. I just can't win.

For his part, Vanyel's reply didn't indicate whether or not he had taken offense.

>
> Dear Aunt Savil, I will be honoured to join you for dinner. It has been some time. > > Regards, Vanyel.

"Look after him," Tylendel had said before he left.

"He's twenty-two, not a child," Savil had protested gruffly, but she acceded in the end, of course. She never had been able to resist Tylendel.

So far, dinner was going better than their first attempt. Vanyel was far more relaxed and talked about riding along the various trails around the Collegium, as well as what appeared to be a burgeoning friendship with Herald Heir Randale and his lifebonded Shavri.

Huh. I wonder if I wasn't the only one Tylendel asked to look out for Vanyel.

Vanyel cleared his throat. "Aunt Savil, I... if something happened to Herald Tylendel, you would tell me, wouldn't you?"

Caught off-guard, Savil could only stare at him for a moment. Vanyel's cheeks turned bright pink.

Recovering, Savil took a sip of wine to calm herself. "Herald Tylendel is the best active Herald-Mage we have, or near enough. You don't need to worry." At least, not any more than the rest of us do...

Vanyel nodded. "I know that, it's just I'd hate it if something happened and I wasn't even aware."

Savil nodded in sudden understanding. "I'll make certain you're in the loop, as much as I can." Well. At least it seems Tylendel's affections weren't unrequited. This could be a problem on its own, of course...

Vanyel seemed to be gearing up for another difficult question and took a long sip of his own wine. "Aunt Savil... What happened to Tylendel's family?"

Savil carefully put her glass down and raised her eyebrows. "He mentioned that to you?"

Vanyel shook his head. "I asked him about his family, but all he said was that he didn't have any anymore."

Oh, 'Lendel...

"You don't have to tell me," added Vanyel quickly. "I think I hurt him when I asked, that's all."

"Well, everybody around here knows the long and short of it, so there's no harm in telling you. At least from me you'll get accurate information." Savil tapped a finger on the table. "The first thing you have to know is that Tylendel's family were in a long and bloody feud with another family. We did our best to keep Tylendel distanced from it, but... when his twin brother was killed, he went over the edge for a little while."

"His twin?"

Savil nodded. "They were very close, and Tylendel felt it when he died. He wanted vengeance on the people who had killed him, and... we barely managed to keep him from enacting it." One of the worst nights of her life, it still sent a shiver of dread down her spine to think of it. So close, 'Lendel, you were so close...

Vanyel was staring at her. "What happened?"

"We managed to convince him to take his evidence to the Courts instead. He got justice for his twin and nobody died, but... He hasn't mentioned Staven since." She glanced at Vanyel thoughtfully. "If you can get him to talk, please, do. Some wounds don't heal on their own; they need a helping hand."

Vanyel nodded firmly. "If... when... I see him again, I'll try. It's the least I can do."

"There's a good lad. 'Lendel spends far too much time thinking of others and not thinking of himself for my own comfort."

"I thought that was just what Heralds did?" said Vanyel, a little too innocently. Savil suspected she was being teased.

"Within reason, lad. Take everything with moderation; yes, even moderation." She pointed a fork at him. "You could take a little of that advice yourself."

He nodded slowly. "I'm starting to see that."

Chapter 2

Tylendel woke in a cold sweat, tangled in bedclothes that suddenly seemed to have turned into chains. A dream? But no, he could feel power crackling in the air. The fort was under attack.

Swearing under his breath, he finally managed to free himself from the sheets and threw himself out of bed. The hard stone floor was jarring on his bare heels.

:Gala?: He let his mind drift, searching for the source of the disruption.

:Here. They're attacking the east tower.:

Tylendel started to throw up a shield, but a knock on the door threw off his concentration. The knocker came in without waiting for a response. "Herald Tylendel, sir, we're under attack."

Tylendel nodded at the Guard Commander. "The east tower?"

"It's a lost cause. And from what we can make out, they have enough troops to take the other towers too."

"Evacuate," he said, and he saw the guard commander's shoulders sag with a mixture of relief and disappointment. "We've no choice; if we fight we'll lose more than we gain."

"I understand. It's why we built the tunnels in the first place."

"I'll hold them off for as long as I can," he said. "Don't wait for me. Collapse the tunnel as soon as everybody is through. That's an order."

To her credit, she didn't even blink. "Understood." She hesitated. "Good luck."

"And to you."

With the Guard Commander gone to round up the rest of the Guard, Tylendel was finally able to gather his thoughts together and throw up some shields around the fort.

The assault on the fort stopped, at least for a moment.

Wonder if they were expecting a Herald-Mage. Doubtful.

Carefully, without diverting any power from his shields, he sent his Thoughtsensing questing across the fort. The Guard were on the move, pouring into the tunnels that led through the hills and back out to the road. By the time their attackers realised the fort was empty, they would be well on the way to reinforcements.

An attack on Tylendel's shields almost broke through, and he rebuilt them quickly. He silently willed the Guard to hurry.

I make it two mages out there. Not Adept-class, which would have spelled certain doom, but powerful enough to give Tylendel trouble. Maybe this will be enough to convince Savil to let me get Adept training.

On the tail of that thought came the sobering realisation that he was running desperately short on resources. I don't know how much longer I can hold this...

Finally, finally he sensed the last of the Guard enter the tunnels, and the Guard Commander, true to her word, triggered the self-destruct mechanism on the tunnel entrance.

Now I just need to figure out how I get out of here. His quarters were located on exactly the wrong site of the fort for making a quick escape - in the vast majority of situations, this was convenient for a Herald-Mage. Right now, it seemed like a curse.

:Gala? Can you still get out?:

:If I leave now. They haven't reached the south gate yet.:

:Do it.:

:But, you...:

:I'll Gate back to Haven.: Mage-fire almost broke through his shields again, and Tylendel swore out loud. :You meet me there.:

Gala's Mind-voice was tinged with worry. :You'll have to drop your shields.:

:That's why I'll need you to create a diversion, sweetling.:

Gala sent back a pulse of reluctant acquiescence. :Be careful. You're not at full power, you know that.:

:I don't see that I have any other option. If I go outside, I'll be a sitting duck.: Tylendel scrabbled through the contents of his desk until he found a scrap of parchment and a pen. He quickly summarised the situation. I'll be lucky if I'm even conscious by the time I reach the other side of the Gate.

:Hurry, then.: Silence for a moment, then, :I'm ready. Go.:

Tylendel dropped the shields and centred himself, willing himself not to worry, not to care about the mages on the perimeter of the fort. He formed the image in his mind of the Temple door in Haven, and began to weave the Gate.

Hells... Gala was right. I'm not strong enough for this. He shoved the thought away. To doubt was to fail. He weaved more and more of himself into the Gate, drawing on every last drop of power - or perhaps the Gate was weaving him into itself.

He fought to keep control, but he could feel himself losing it. Oh, gods...

And then... a thread, a link, something snapped into being. Too tired and drained to do much more than hope, he reached for it, feeling power flow through him into the Gate. This must be one of those nodes Savil mentioned...

The gate shuddered into being with a blinding flash of light he saw even through his closed eyelids.

Tylendel opened his eyes to find himself on his hands and knees on the floor. That's going to leave bruises...

He could see the Temple door on the other side of the Gate and crawled towards it desperately. His mind was dizzy and confused, full of thoughts and feelings he didn't understand, but he knew what he had to do.

Just let me hold it... long enough to...

As he passed the threshold he felt the world drop away from beneath him, and then he felt nothing at all.

--

Vanyel snapped from asleep to waking in an instant, consumed by a desperate need to escape, to hold on long enough to make it to Haven.

His knees ached with phantom pain, as he... no...

Vanyel put his hands to his forehead and moaned. What is this? It's like I'm dreaming I'm someone else. He examined that thought, and then he was able to put a name to the thoughts streaming through his mind. Tylendel. That's Tylendel.

How do I know that?

He... no, Tylendel... dragged himself towards the swirling portal that lead to a stone building that Vanyel didn't recognise. The Temple door.

Just let me hold it... long enough to...

Tylendel fell through the portal - the Gate - and Vanyel almost threw up as another wave of disorientation hit.

As suddenly as it had come, the onslaught of thoughts and feelings subsided, leaving Vanyel gasping, already half out of bed.

What in hell was that? A nightmare?

It didn't feel like a dream. It had felt real; realer than anything Vanyel had dreamt before.

What's more, he still didn't feel right. He felt drained, like something was sucking away his energy even now.

The temple. If it was real, Tylendel will be there.

Vanyel stood on shaky legs, pulling a heavy robe over his nightshirt and hose. In the distance, he could hear thunder rumbling. He couldn't hear rain yet, but he somehow sensed it was only a matter of time.

He knew where the temple was, even if he'd never been there before, and he thought he remembered how to get there.

It had started raining heavily by the time he made it out to the road and he pulled his robe tighter around himself. He could feel himself growing weaker by the moment. What's happening to me?

A lightning bolt illuminated the sky and the rain began to fall harder. Another surge of weakness hit, and Vanyel's thoughts coalesced to a single purpose - get to Tylendel. He stumbled and lurched his way along the streets to the temple.

With the rain this heavy, there was no one else about, which was both a blessing and a curse. Nobody to stop him - but also nobody to help him.

Another flash of lightning came accompanied with a brief inflowing of strength; enough to fight the darkness that kept threatening to consume him. Then his mind flared with unimaginable pain, and he heard a hoarse scream that he only recognised as his own as he fell into blackness.

When he came to, he was lying in a puddle on the cobbles and his mind felt like it was on fire.

Something soft and warm butted at his cheek, and he leant away instinctively.

:Vanyel. Wake up.:

He opened his eyes, blinking. In the darkness, he could make out nothing, and it was impossible to think with the pain.

:Vanyel, Chosen, you can't stay here. Look at me. Get on my back; I'll keep you safe.:

Lightning flashed again and he fell into kind blue eyes. Warmth and love flowed around and into him and he felt peace, like he hadn't known since he was a small child, calm his churning thoughts.

A little trickle of strength flowed to him, and he instinctively knew the source was his rescuer, the Companion. At her gentle prompting, he managed to climb onto her back - an action that he could probably have managed in his sleep.

"What's happening?" he whispered.

:Be calm, my Chosen.: Another pulse of love and affection flowed through him. :You're sick; you're going to be sick for a while. But I am here for you.:

His mind so foggy he couldn't quite manage to make sense of the words, he fell into that affection gratefully.

After what seemed like hours, he felt the rain that had been soaking him abruptly cut off. The Companion knelt and he tumbled off her back onto a mossy floor.

"Where--"

:Sleep for now, Vanyel-love. Just sleep for now. When it's light, I'll fetch help for you.:

It was easy to obey that order, especially when he felt something large and warm lie down beside him, promising comfort and protection.

Vanyel fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

--

With group strength they managed to carry Tylendel to his rooms and bundle him into bed. Andrel pronounced him unlikely to wake again until morning - if then.

Great. So it could be days until we get any answers. Tylendel, what happened? She stared moodily at the still, deathly-pale figure on the bed, but received no reply to her anxious thoughts.

"Savil," Jaysen repeated, for the third time since Savil had determined just who the Gate was drawing power from. "Who the hell is Vanyel?"

Savil rubbed her gritty eyes and fought back a yawn. "My nephew," she said. "He and Tylendel are friends, of a sort."

Jays' express grew strained. "Lovers?"

She did her very best not to snap at him, although tired as she was, it was a strain. "Not to my knowledge, and I think even I would have noticed that. No, as far as I'm aware, their acquaintance was barely beyond casual."

"Then how...?"

Savil shook her head. "Vanyel doesn't even have any gifts, just potential, and no, I haven't even the foggiest hint of a clue why he would have been linked to a Gate - a Gate built by a Herald-Mage."

"We should find him," said Andrel suddenly. "If the backlash when you closed the Gate hit Tylendel like this, it probably took out Vanyel too."

Savil and Jays exchanged looks, then leapt into action simultaneously.

:Kellan, meet me outside? I need to get to Lord Grayel's townhouse, and quickly.: She could feel the echo of Jaysen talking to his own Companion.

:On my way.:

Savil struggled back into her boots and hoped her heavy cloak would be enough to take care of the rain. I don't even want to think about how I'm going to explain this to Withen...

As Savil was tying the neck of her cloak, Kellan Mindspoke her again, her mind-voice coloured with confusion. :Savil, wait. It's all right. Yfandes has him.:

Jaysen's start of surprise implied that he'd just received the same information.

:Yfandes? The Companion Yfandes?:

A weary confirmation. :She says you're too tired to understand what's happened; she says Vanyel needs to rest now and you can come find him in the morning.:

"What in the havens..." said Jays, out loud. Savil echoed the sentiment.

:Can I see him?:

:She won't tell me where he is, just that he's safe - for now. Get some sleep, Chosen. You need it.:

Savil groaned with frustration. I do not have the patience to deal with inscrutable Companions right now...

The clattering of footsteps behind her interrupted her mental tirade. "Oh, thank the gods, you're still here."

"Andy?"

"Here," said Andrel, pressing a scrap of parchment into her hand. "Tylendel was carrying this. You need to read it."

The parchment didn't provide any answers to the mystery of Vanyel and Tylendel, but it brought with it its own set of problems. "Oh, gods," she said, reading Tylendel's note and wincing at his terse description of the border situation. "We need to get acting on this, and quickly."

:Sorry, Kellan. I'm not going to be getting any more sleep tonight.:

--

Tylendel woke with a pounding headache and the distinct impression that he had been the victim of a herd of stampeding cattle.

Distantly, he heard somebody announcing his awakening. By the time he managed to convince his eyes to open and stay open, Savil was ensconced in the chair by his bedside.

"Savil," he croaked out. "The fort. Did you--"

Savil looked blank for a moment, then nodded in understanding. "We got your note. Elspeth sent Mardic and Donni, they're taking care of things. It's been three days, 'Lendel."

Tylendel closed his eyes briefly. "Thank the gods." Then the rest of her sentence hit him. "Three days?" I knew I was drained, but that's ridiculous. And why do I feel like-- like when Staven-- He squashed that thought quickly. This feels like backlash.

"What happened, Tylendel?"

Tylendel struggled to get his thoughts in order. "They took us by surprise. I had to Gate out, there was no time and no way Gala and I could both get out alive."

"Not that, lad. We figured out that much from Gala."

:Gala? Sweetling, you made it back in one piece?:

:All safe and sound,: came Gala's affectionate reply, tinged with an edge of worry.

"No," Savil was continuing. "We want to know what happened with Vanyel."

"Vanyel?" repeated Tylendel, utterly dumbfounded. "Has something happened to him? We haven't been in touch since I left." Ah, and I promised to write... some friend I am.

Savil seemed taken-aback. "Tylendel, when we found you, the Gate was still open. Before we closed it we managed to figure out it was draining magic from Vanyel, through you."

Tylendel stared at her. "From Vanyel? But why? How?"

She sighed. "We were hoping you would be able to answer that, son."

He shook his head. "I have no idea. I... I was pretty drained. I almost wasn't sure I was going to make it, but just as it started to take me over, I found a line." He hesitated. "I thought it had to be one of those nodes or ley-lines you've talked about."

"You can't build a Gate with node-energy, 'Lendel. The power has to come from within."

"So... you're saying I somehow managed to link to Vanyel and take it from him? From the border?"

Savil snorted. "As far as I was aware, you can't borrow magic from another human to build a Gate. It just isn't possible."

"Then, how?"

Savil put a hand over her eyes. "Andrel thinks - and Shavri agrees - that you've lifebonded. It's the only thing that makes sense; lifebonds are on so deep a level we don't even understand how they work."

"Lifebonded?" he squeaked. "But... we aren't even lovers."

Savil relaxed a fraction. "I liked to hope you would have told me if you were."

Tylendel shook his head. But Shavri was lifebonded herself and a healer to boot, and thus one of the most likely in all of Valdemar to be able to accurately recognise a bond.

"Well, figuring this out can wait until you're well. Sorry to dump this on you when you've just woken up, lad, but we were kind of hoping you could shed some light on this mess." She glanced at him sidelong. "And if you're wondering why you feel like a building fell on top of you, that's backlash from when we closed the Gate. It got both you and Vanyel, and he's in much worse shape than you. Once you're well enough we're going to move you in together. We need every edge we can get."

Even through the fog in his brain, he felt worry sink like a stone into his gut. "What's wrong with him?"

"Well, he... No, there's too much. Let me summarise. You know he had potential Gifts, but nothing active? Well, that's changed - the Gate energy burned all his channels wide open. We're doing our best, but he's not coping well."

Tylendel winced. "I know how that goes," he said quietly. "Oh, gods. Poor Van."

Savil squeezed his shoulder. "Well, it's not all bad news. He's been Chosen, so at least you don't need to worry about his father anymore."

"Chosen?" Tylendel repeated.

Savil's lips quirked in a poor imitation of a smile. "Yfandes, if you can believe it."

Tylendel blinked. :Did you know about this?:

Gala replied instantly. :You and Vanyel? I'd wondered, especially since you seemed so preoccupied with him, but... no, I didn't see this coming.:

:I don't even understand how it happened. I didn't do it deliberately, Gala, I would never--:

:Hush. I know you didn't, Chosen.: She sent a wave of reassurance down their bond.

"Can I see him?" he asked out loud.

She hesitated. "We have him pretty heavily sedated at the moment. But later, once you've eaten and bathed, I'll see if Andy will let me take you in."

As if mentioning food had got its attention, his stomach growled. "I'll take your offer of food," he said, groaning. "But at the moment the thought of walking to the baths feels akin to climbing a mountain."

"Well, Andy wants you out of bed before you get bedsores," she said. "So, up you get."

"Can't you send Andy instead? He has a better bedside manner."

"Up! Imp."

He gingerly shifted to the edge of the bed until his legs were hanging off. :Savil, are you angry with me?:

In response, she got up from the chair and put an arm around his shoulders. :Not angry, just confused and worried.:

:I didn't do it on purpose.: Stealing power from somebody against their will was a serious crime outside Valdemar; he knew that from his studies. Inside Valdemar there was no precedent. :I swear, I had no idea of what that link meant.:

She met his gaze evenly. :I believe you, lad, for what it's worth.: Out loud, she continued. "Come on. Let's get some food into you."

--

After he'd made a mess of the hospital wing thanks to a nightmare, they'd moved Vanyel to one of the magical Work Rooms. It made shielding the inevitable damage caused by an out of control Gift easier, but it was not convenient to get to or an optimal environment for recovering from backlash sickness. Andrel acknowledged the necessity, but Savil was under orders to make certain Vanyel was kept comfortable and warm at all times. Since the room didn't have fireplaces, this required a combination of magical sources of heat and regular supplies of hot bricks.

Once Andrel declared him well enough, Savil had the Healers arrange a second cot for Tylendel. He was recovering steadily, and managed to make the walk down to the Work Room with a minimum of support.

"Oh, 'Lendel? Don't try to Mindspeak him yet. He has the Gift, but his channels are so sensitive it hurts him and might set off a fit." That was just one in a whole list of worries that she and Andrel shared. The channels weren't healing on their own, but without the ability to use them they had no hope of ever teaching him how to control his Gifts.

"I understand," said Tylendel soberly.

Savil reinforced her shields as they entered the room, but Vanyel was awake, reading a book with the kind of intense concentration that implied every word was a struggle. He looked up and set it aside as they approached.

"Hey, Van," said Tylendel hesitantly. "You want a roommate?"

Vanyel looked confused for a moment, then broke into a shy smile that made Savil suddenly, incomprehensibly envious. Gods, lifebonded.

"You? Really?" Vanyel's speech was still a little slurred from the drugs.

"Really, really. The Healers think it will help."

"I'm glad," said Vanyel vaguely. "It'll be nice to have company."

Poor lad, thought Savil, a little guilty. I wish I could afford to spend as much time with you as you need.

Tylendel flinched away fractionally and Savil frowned.

As sensitive as he was, Vanyel obviously picked up on whatever Tylendel was feeling, and hurt flashed across his face.

:'Lendel, what was that about?:

She sensed that Tylendel was trying to put his thoughts into words. :He's in this situation because of me. This is my fault. He didn't want this.:

Savil rolled her eyes ceilingward and prayed for patience. :Lad, that boy was so twisted up in his head he didn't know what he wanted. He showed more interest in you than he did in anything else the entire time he was in Haven, though, and I think that should count for something.:

:But if I hadn't--:

:If you could form a lifebond just by wanting someone, well, there would be a lot more lifebonded mages. And since there aren't, well.:

She could feel Tylendel starting to climb out of the pit of self-pity he'd built himself. :...am I being stupid, Savil?:

:You're being stupid.: She Mindsent a warm feeling of affection. :You can't change the past, lad. Just accept the way it is now. He needs you, and he needs some of that love you've been so-nobly quashing all this time.:

"I'm sorry about all this," said Vanyel, drawing his knees up to his chin and wrapping his arms around his shins. "I know I'm not who you wanted."

"Gods, not you as well," said Tylendel lightly. "With both of us feeling guilty this won't be any fun at all."

Vanyel's brow furrowed with confusion.

"I'm the one who should be sorry, Van." When Vanyel continued to look stricken, he moved to sit on the edge of the bed and reached over to gently brush away a lock of Vanyel's hair. "I'm sorry for the way it happened, not the outcome. I'm happy to be here, Vanyel."

Vanyel sighed, but he leant into the touch. Savil sensed this wasn't even touching the surface of Vanyel's feelings on this subject, but it was progress. At this point, she was accepting any progress she could get.

:I'll leave you two alone for a bit,: she told Tylendel, removing herself from the Work Room as unobtrusively as possible. :I'll be back in, oh, a candlemark or so to take him outside.: They were doing their best to ensure the Companion bond formed by having Vanyel take his midday meal outside with Yfandes. So far it seemed to be working, and she wasn't going to risk anything by changing the schedule now.

:Yfandes says to thank you,: said Kellan suddenly.

:For what?:

Kellan was silent for a moment. :Gala says it's for giving Tylendel that little mental shakedown. He was starting to become quite insufferable.:

Savil stopped mid-step. :Are you three gossiping?:

:No,: said Kellan with dignity. :I'm keeping abreast of the situation.:

Savil chuckled to herself. :All right, have it your way. And tell Yfandes and Gala they're welcome, since they insist on thanking me.:

--

Funny, thought Tylendel, finding himself at a loss for words for the first time in a long time. Diplomatic training never covered appropriate smalltalk for situations like this.

Vanyel looked at him sidelong. "Aunt Savil says we're lifebonded."

"Yes," said Tylendel hesitantly. "I can feel it, and once you're off the drugs, you'll feel it too." Now that he was aware of it, he could identify the bond shining in the back of his mind.

"'sgood," murmured Vanyel. "Father can't take you away from me then."

Huh. Maybe Savil's right. Maybe he does like me.

"Of course I like you!" protested Vanyel.

Tylendel blinked at him in surprise.

Vanyel shrank back. "You didn't say anything, did you. Oh, gods... I'm sorry."

"Van, havens, you don't need to apologise. New Gifts are always over-sensitive; it doesn't matter how much we shield, things still seem to leak through."

Vanyel blinked slowly. "You mean... I really am hearing your thoughts? This is normal?"

Tylendel took a moment to silently curse Savil and Andrel. Why is he only just realising this now? "That's the Thoughtsensing gift, Van. Once you're trained you'll be able to block it out, but until then, you'll be picking up stray thoughts. Didn't Savil or Andy explain that?"

Vanyel hesitated. "They said something about Gifts, but... everything's fuzzy. I don't really remember. I thought they just meant the... the moving things."

The drugs. Poor Van. "That's Fetching. I'm told you also have Mindspeech - that's how you talk to Yfandes - FarSight, Foresight and a little Healing. Plus the Mage-Gift, which means you'll be a Herald-Mage when you get your whites." Vanyel was starting to look a little overwhelmed.  "I'm going too fast, aren't I?"

"I thought I was going crazy," breathed Vanyel. "I'm so relieved."

Tylendel looked at him soberly. "You wouldn't be the first to think that when their Gifts manifest. You're lucky you're here in Haven, where we know how to recognise them." He shrugged. "I know how you feel, though, at least a little. My family thought I was possessed."

Vanyel stared at him in real distress. "That's insane!"

"My Gifts manifested early." And I just hope he never asks for more details about how that came about. "It was two years before Gala found me and brought me to Haven and my family didn't know anything about magic."

"Two years?"

"It was pretty awful, but I had my brother to stand up for me. He knew I wasn't possessed, even if he didn't know what was going on any more than I did." He felt the familiar little clench in his gut when he thought about Staven, but he pushed on through.

"Gods," said Vanyel.

Tylendel gently tweaked his nose. "I wasn't alone then, and you're not alone now. So don't worry, Van. Just concentrate on getting well."

Vanyel looked at him doubtfully.

"I wouldn't let your father take you away anyway," said Tylendel, retrieving the thread of their earlier conversation. "I'd fight for you."

The next thing he knew, he was being hugged so tightly he couldn't quite breathe, and Vanyel was dampening the collar of his shirt. After a moment's hesitation, Tylendel let his hand drift up to start gently stroking Vanyel's hair.

I just hope his father doesn't show up in the near future. I'm not feeling very charitable at the moment and I might have trouble keeping my temper!

--

Vanyel woke from a nightmare of his father yelling at him, in the way he hadn't since their tentative truce had been formed when he was sixteen, only to find there was a basis in reality for the dream.

Even through the thick walls of the Work Room he could make out his father's voice.

"HOW COULD YOU LET THIS HAPPEN? I asked you to find him a wife, not a--"

Vanyel winced, but Savil cut him off with a retort of equal volume. "Let this happen? What, don't they give adults free will out in Forst Reach? Vanyel is an adult and capable of making his own decisions."

Withen blustered for a moment, but Savil rode right over him. "And what's more, the entire time he was here I never saw Vanyel doing anything other than play the perfect son. He followed your wishes to the letter, for all the good it did. Havens, if you'd had your way he would have emotionally crippled himself to the point where he couldn't feel anything at all!"

His first instinct was to push everything away until he felt nothing, but he could sense Yfandes at the back of his mind and Tylendel's presence on the other side of the room, and it gave him the strength to fight.

Vanyel carefully got out of bed. Outside, he could hear Savil reiterating that what happened was an accident, could not have been predicted and was nobody's fault.

"What are you doing?" asked Tylendel, genuinely curious.

"I'm not facing my father in invalid's clothes," said Vanyel. "Do you know if Aunt Savil brought any of my day clothes down?"

Tylendel pawed through the trunk at the foot of the bed and shook his head. "There's your trainee uniform, though."

Vanyel made a face. "I'm a bit old to be a trainee," he pointed out. "But it might help make a point."

Tylendel helped him into the uniform and looked him up and down once they were finished. "A little big, I think, but you don't look so bad."

"Damned by faint praise," Vanyel murmured. Tylendel produced a comb and brushed the knots out of Vanyel's hair before quickly tying it back, and Vanyel was hard-pressed not to melt into that touch.

"Do you want me to talk to him?" asked Tylendel. His voice was calm enough, but Vanyel could feel he was as tense as a bow-string with suppressed anger.

He shook his head. "I can do it. You can tell Aunt Savil I'm ready to see him now," he added, arranging himself in the chair next to the bed, straight-backed.

To his credit, Tylendel didn't suggest he do it himself.

Shortly thereafter, there was a knock on the door and Savil and his father entered.

"Greetings, Father," said Vanyel, neutrally polite. "You'll forgive my not standing; I'm still not feeling my best." Thank the gods they've reduced the drugs... I wouldn't be able to do this at all if I was still all foggy.

His father stared at him for a moment, the anger Vanyel had been feeling rolling off him in waves abruptly evaporating. "Gods, Van, you look like hell."

"Magic backlash and delayed onset of multiple Heraldic Gifts will do that to a man," said Savil dryly.

"Sorry you had to come all this way," said Vanyel. He pasted on a sheepish grin. "I don't think I'm going to make it home in time for the harvest."

His father was taken off-guard again. "Well, I... maybe once you're better, Van."

Savil cleared her throat. "Actually, since he's been Chosen, once he's better he'll be a Herald trainee."

"I guess Meke will have to take over as Heir for me," said Vanyel. "But I don't suppose he'll mind. He always had more of a head for it than I did."

His father didn't seem to know what to say, and settled for a grunt of agreement.

Do I push things by introducing him to 'Lendel? The emotions he was picking up from his father gave him pause - he wasn't angry at the moment, but the anger was still simmering, waiting to boil over again. He flinched. Strong emotions hurt, like salt on a wound. No, I won't risk it. "Will you be staying long?" he asked instead.

His father cleared his throat. "I hadn't really planned ahead."

Just ran down here looking for a fight, did you? Well, I'm not going to give you one. Outwardly calm, Vanyel nodded. "Perhaps we can have lunch together? I can introduce you to my Companion."

His father swallowed. "Of course. That sounds... nice."

Vanyel feigned a large yawn. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Father, I'm rather tired and I haven't had my breakfast yet. We can talk over lunch."

Savil hustled his father out of the room quickly and Vanyel let out a long breath. His shoulders slumped down and he let his head drop back against the neck rest of the chair.

"Van," said Tylendel. "That was amazing. I thought for sure he'd lose his temper."

"I've had a lot of practice dealing with him," said Vanyel wryly. "He won't listen to me when I yell, so I have to be polite."

"Are you going to be all right with him at lunch? I have meetings to go to, but I can cancel them if you need me."

Vanyel shook his head. "'Fandes will be there, and I bet Aunt Savil won't let Father out on his own. I'll be all right."

Tylendel nodded. "Get Yfandes to let me know if you want me to come. I'll come up with some excuse."

It still hurt, sometimes, to Mindspeak Yfandes, but less than Mindspeaking any of the Heralds. "I will, but I'll be all right, I promise, 'Lendel."

Tylendel pulled him into a quick embrace and Vanyel found himself flushing with guilty pleasure. "You're stronger than I gave you credit for," he murmured into Vanyel's neck. "What I told you, before... I had no clue what it was like for you."

"'Lendel," said Vanyel helplessly. "'Lendel, no, you're what gave me the strength to fight back. The old me would have just let him spout his disapproval and taken it without question."

Tylendel held him tighter for a moment. "I'm sorry if this costs you your family, Van. You can't imagine how sorry I am."

Vanyel considered that for a moment, sensing this wasn't the moment for platitudes. "I wasn't happy with them," he said carefully. "But I think... no, I know... I can be happy with you."

"Family is important," Tylendel insisted.

"Well, there's Aunt Savil," Vanyel pointed out. "And my sister Lissa, and at least some of my cousins I get along with fine. Even if Father never comes around, I won't be cut off." Somehow, he could feel that this went deeper than worry about Vanyel's situation, and he wished he knew how to help Tylendel the way Tylendel had helped him.

Tylendel relaxed a fraction. "You win, Van." He released Vanyel from his embrace, and Vanyel bit back a wistful sigh. "And I believe that's your breakfast arriving," added Tylendel, just before the knock on the door.

"I hope they brought a lot," said Vanyel thoughtfully. "Because I'll need the energy, I don't think I'm going to be in much of a mood for eating at lunch."

--

Vanyel's concentration slipped and the book he was attempting to hover in the air above the bed fell with a thump, accompanied by a shock of strong emotion and a pulse of mage energy that the shields on the Work Room harmlessly absorbed.

Savil bit back a sigh of disappointment. "I think that's enough for now, Van."

Vanyel subsided with palpable relief. "I'm sorry, Aunt Savil."

"Van, it's not your fault." That phrase was coming off her lips so naturally now it was starting to lose all meaning. "Just take a rest for now. We can try again tomorrow."

Vanyel nodded miserably. He winced briefly, an expression Savil took to mean that Yfandes was weighing in with her own support. I'm glad at least that aspect of this process is going to plan. The Herald-Companion bond is about as strong as we could hope for under the circumstances.

Tylendel was waiting outside the Work Room. He winced when he saw her expression. "I take it this session didn't go any better?"

She shook her head. "His control is rudimentary at best, and it still hurts him to use his Gifts, even if he's not showing it."

Tylendel nodded slowly. "He told me not to say anything."

Savil glanced at him sidelong, then shrugged. "Well, just don't let him damage himself any more. Gods. What are we going to do? It's like we're trying to teach him to play five instruments simultaneously when he's never even picked up a tin whistle before." This time she did sigh, and heavily. "I think I have to admit we're at the limits of what I can teach." The mark of a good teacher is knowing when you don't know enough. And I'm at that point.

"And of course, the number of people in Valdemar who can do what you do is precisely zero." Tylendel paced the confines of the hallway for a moment, then stilled as if a thought had struck him. "You're thinking of taking him to the Hawkbrothers."

"Correction. I'm thinking of taking both of you to the Hawkbrothers. But first I need to convince the Council."

"Letting two of our strongest Herald-Mages Gate out of the country to a place most people only know of in stories meant to frighten children? I should think they'd be worried."

"Frankly, I don't see that they have much choice. You're still sick with backlash - and don't try to deny it, son, you're not helping Valdemar by working yourself into a coma - and the longer Vanyel's Gifts remain out of control, the greater the danger is to Haven. And I'm the only one who is Wingsister to k'Treva."

Tylendel nodded. "Let me know if you need me to play the invalid for a bit," he said, eyes sparkling.

"I'm hoping it won't come to that," she said wryly. "I know I can count on them to make the right decision - but only after they've explored every other option!"

Tylendel wrapped her in a brief hug, then re-entered the Work Room.

Maybe Van won't be the only one they can help, she mused. 'Lendel, you're good, but if you think you can resist Moondance k'Treva, you've got surprise in store.

Chapter 3

Vanyel woke slowly, drifting out of sleep so gradually he wasn't even sure how long he'd been awake. The first thing he was aware of was birdsong, although it resembled no birdsong he had ever heard before. His eyelids still too heavy to lift, he took stock of the rest of his senses. He was lying in on something soft, covered in smooth sheets. He could make out the musty scent of soil; the fresh, pungent aroma of living plants and trees; and a distant whiff of minerals. That new sense, the one he couldn't quite put a name to yet, told him he was not alone in the room.

He wasn't alone, but he couldn't make out any stray thoughts. He appeared to be the sole occupant of his own mind, for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

Vanyel opened his eyes. Green, he thought, a little giddily, then his vision cleared and he was able to determine that he was in a bed, surrounded by a canopy of both natural and simulated greenery.

He struggled to sit up, but his muscles were not inclined to obey him at this moment and he gave up the effort, breathing heavily.

"Good morning," came a cheerful voice. "Although it is so late in the day it barely passes."

Vanyel blinked slowly. He didn't know this man with the serious eyes and the curtain of silver hair... or... "You were in my head," he said. "I recognise you."

The strange man nodded. "I am Moondance k'Treva. I was your Healer, and my shay’kreth’ashke Starwind your teacher, while you slept."

"You're one of Aunt Savil's Hawkbrother friends?" Vanyel asked hesitantly, wondering if he was remembering correctly what Savil had said before the Healer Andrel drugged him to oblivion, but the man nodded.

"I am Tayledras, yes. Our teachings make us uniquely suited to Healing magical injuries such as your own. You should find your mage studies proceed more reliably now, friend Vanyel."

"I'm still a mage?" said Vanyel, somewhat dismayed.

Moondance looked at him evenly. "I Healed the damage to your channels caused by the... hm, shall we say, unconventional way your powers were awakened, but now that they are opened it is not possible to close them again. Now, if it should prove necessary, we can and will contain them both for your own protection and for those around you. But for the moment, yes, Vanyel. You are a mage."

Try as he might, Vanyel could not manage to form a response to this information. His thoughts were tangled up in knots; "what-if"s and "but"s all jumbled together in an impenetrable mess.

"But surely there are more pressing things on your mind. I believe by this time you must be hungry, and undoubtedly you are desiring of a bath."

Vanyel's body took the opportunity to inform him that, indeed, it was hungry, and a bath would not go amiss either. He nodded.

Somehow he made it to the bathing room, step by step, with Moondance in steady attendance in case he should stumble.

"Moondance," he asked, as he lay his robe aside and sunk into the pool Moondance had identified as 'for washing', "where is Aunt Savil? And T-Tylendel? They came too, didn't they?" He thought he remembered that, but he had been so heavily drugged and in so much pain as they crossed the Gate that for all he knew, he may have come alone.

"They are out in the Vale, with my shay’kreth’ashke," said Moondance, an answer that did nothing to ease Vanyel's confusion. "I imagine you will see them later. They will both be most relieved to hear of your awakening."

"Was I asleep for a long time?" asked Vanyel, confused.

Moondance smiled. "A fortnight, by my reckoning. With hurts such as yours, it is best to heal slowly." While Vanyel was still reeling over this information, Moondance got to his feet. "For now, wash and rest. I will return with food and drink."

Vanyel sat in the water, unmoving, for a few moments longer. I feel different. Not the way I did before, in the Work Room, but not the way before... before the Gate backlash, either. He thought he remembered one of the presences in his head - the one that resembled blue-green music - showing him how to form walls in his mind to keep others out, and after a moment's reflection he was able to identify it.

He gently pushed at the barrier and found that he could control its strength at will. With the barrier weakened, he could make out other presences - Moondance, not far away; a scattering of unfocused minds he concluded must be animals; Yfandes, bright but unreadable.

:I, too, am pleased to feel you waking,: came that gentle voice in his mind. For the first time he could remember, there was no shock; no pain at the unexpected contact.

:Has it really been so long?: he asked Yfandes.

He could feel a gentle affirmative wave in response, the mental equivalent of nodding. :It was necessary, but I am very relieved to feel you waking again.:

:Why do I feel so different? What's this barrier?:

:You're shielding, and you're centred,: said Yfandes promptly. :Starwind taught you.:

He recognised those words. :Like Savil tried to teach me. But why could I never do it before?: He picked up a washcloth and began to scrub himself.

:You were sick, and it pained you to use your Gifts. Moondance Healed you, and Starwind taught you from within your own mind.: Then, almost to herself, she added, :Unconventional, but I cannot fault the results.:

Vanyel returned to his experiments with his shield. Further away, he recognised Aunt Savil and two more of the shining but closed off minds. Next to Savil, another human but unreadable mind, and... His gut gave a little swoop of joy, and he flushed with embarrassment at the strength of it. Tylendel.

He almost wished he could still read minds; if Tylendel had come to resent him, as would surely be natural...

That train of thought was abruptly cut off by the return of Moondance, balancing a tray on one arm with apparent ease. "If you are clean, I suggest you transfer to the pool for relaxing," he suggested cheerfully. "I will place your food thusly."

"Thank you," said Vanyel, taking refuge in simple manners.

Moondance bowed slightly, then settled himself on the edge of the pool, bare feet dangling in the water. "There is one thing I would talk with you on," said Moondance. "That is the subject of your shay'kreth'ashke."

Vanyel shook his head, puzzled at the unfamiliar word. "I don't know what that means."

"In your tongue, I believe you would call it lifebonded. That is, for you, the Herald Tylendel. For me, Starwind."

"Oh," said Vanyel. He hesitated for a moment. "You want to talk to me about Tylendel?"

"In a manner of speaking. Lifebonds, as you call them, are rare and precious. Yours, unusual in its inception before you had even embarked on a formal relationship. It would be better had you been together before this incident, but what's past is past. Tell me, what do you know of lifebonds?"

"Only what they say in the songs," said Vanyel hesitantly. "Sun and Shadow, The Ballad of Wintersong..."

"Ah. They are the subject of numerous poems and songs, but if you were to rely on those as guidance, you would be sorely misled. It is harder than you might think to maintain a successful relationship while lifebonded."

Vanyel blinked. "I don't understand."

"Let me explain. A lifebond is a very deep link between two people. If one is happy, the other is happy. Similarly, if one is unhappy, the other is unhappy. Problems are shared between both partners, unavoidably. Everything is shared, for better or worse."

Vanyel nodded, still not quite understanding what Moondance was trying to get across to him.

"If there is an imbalance in the relationship, resentment may grow, as with any relationship. If one is stronger than the other, they may find their needs and wants consumed by their lifebonded's."

"That doesn't sound very romantic at all." Vanyel suppressed a shudder.

Moondance smiled wryly. "You see? Lifebonds have very little to do with romance and everything to do with partnership."

Vanyel thought about that for a moment. "So... you're saying we need to be careful of each other's feelings?"

"In part." Moondance looked at him sidelong. "In you, there is a great hurt that is just now beginning to mend - partly, I understand, in thanks to your shay'kreth'ashke."

"I-I suppose," he said. "He did sort of harass me into becoming friends with him."

"So, that is one thing. But he carries a hurt of his own that he is yet to acknowledge."

"His brother," said Vanyel, suddenly certain of it. "He won't talk about him, but... he values family a lot, I know he does." He shook his head. "But, Moondance, I can't heal that. I can't even heal myself! How am I supposed to help him?"

"While he doesn't acknowledge the hurt there is little you can do. But even if you doubt your ability to heal, if you can convince him to talk to you it may be enough to induce him to seek healing on his own."

"All right, I'll try," said Vanyel.

"You have too little faith in your own abilities," Moondance chided gently. "You are lifebonded. He loves you. There should be no 'try' between you."

Vanyel flushed, and decided to change the direction of the conversation. "Moondance... Why do lifebonds exist? I mean, why me and Tylendel? We don't have anything in common, not really."

"There are many mysteries in this world, and you have just uncovered one of them." Moondance laughed. "Sometimes I think that lifebonds are the Star-Eyed's little joke on us, for more often than not those paired would seem an unlikely couple. Perhaps She simply decides to intervene with certain couples - those who would work well together but would in the normal course of Fate not become lovers."

Vanyel pondered that for a moment. "You could be right with that. I would never have dared."

"You may have," said Moondance unexpectedly. "But might-have-beens are infinite. Best to concentrate on what is." Moondance got to his feet. "Your friends will return shortly," he said. "I would not hurry you, but perhaps it would be best if you were to not take too long - unless you wish your reunion to take place with you still in the water and lacking in clothing."

Vanyel's cheeks burned.

--

Vanyel sensed Tylendel coming before he heard him enter the ekele. Even with his shields up, he was always aware of Tylendel's presence. Starwind just said it was a natural part of the lifebond and he would find it less distracting in time.

"Hey, Van. Starwind let you off early?"

"Mm. He said if we did any more today, I'd have to sleep for a week to recover." I'd be happier about that if I didn't know we were still doing the basics...

Tylendel just laughed. "I remember what that was like. So what are you doing now?"

"Writing a letter to home," said Vanyel, tapping the blank piece of parchment in front of him. "Aunt Savil says I should, even if we don't get to send it until we get back."

"Huh," said Tylendel. "What are you telling your father?"

"Nothing so far. I'm having trouble even beginning to describe this place," said Vanyel sheepishly.

Since his physical healing was complete, he and Tylendel had been moved into what Moondance called a "guest ekele". It was a hut built around one side of the roots of a giant tree, with a ladder leading into the upper branches where most of the Tayledras had their ekele.

"You're not the only ground-dwellers the Tayledras have entertained," Moondance had said, with a conspiratorial wink.

The room was comfortable enough, even if the style of decoration was completely different to what he was used to. Tayledras seemed to be against corners and regularity in any form, and tried to imitate natural forms wherever possible. However, Vanyel was coming to like the Tayledras mode of dress - bright colours and comfort were their biggest priority.

The ekele only had one bed, although it was large enough to satisfy all but the most determined prudes. Vanyel was still growing accustomed to waking with somebody else in his bed - particularly since sleeping was all they were doing.

I wonder if that's normal... but I'm certainly not going to ask Moondance about that!

Tylendel was proving himself incapable of sleeping in anything other than a cat-like sprawl, no matter how he had been lying when he fell asleep. More often than not, Vanyel woke to find Tylendel had wrapped a possessive arm around Vanyel's waist in his sleep. It was nice, and on those mornings he liked to lie dozing until Tylendel awoke and pulled away.

"Try starting with your sister," suggested Tylendel, pulling Vanyel's thoughts back to the present. "Then you can trim it down for your father later."

"That's a good idea," said Vanyel, but he was thoroughly distracted now. He put his quill and paper aside with a sigh. "But for later, I think."

Tylendel was sprawled on a bench that had been built into one of the walls, mending a tear in one of his white uniforms. Vanyel sensed he had been finding himself at loose ends while Starwind taught Vanyel the basics of magic.

He hesitated. Well, this is as good an opportunity as any...  "'Lendel... would you tell me about your family?"

Tylendel looked at him sharply. "You don't want to hear that sad story," he said laughing, although Vanyel could feel the undercurrent of pain beneath it.

"But I do," Vanyel protested. "I can't even imagine what could have happened."

"Gods, Van, I don't even know where to start." Tylendel was silent for a moment, but Vanyel knew he was reaching for the right words. "There was a feud with another family, the Leshara.  There had been for years, but it all escalated when Wester Leshara's son died. My family stampeded their cattle in a raid, and he fell from his horse and was trampled to death. It was an accident, but Wester Leshara wouldn't take any excuses or apologies. So he hired someone to convince my mother she could talk to my father's ghost if she made the right potion, and she kept trying until she poisoned herself. That was before I became a Herald trainee."

Vanyel stared at him, feeling sick to the stomach. "That's horrible."

Tylendel glanced at him expressionlessly. "It didn't end there. Anyway, that left my brother Staven as head of the family. So I came to Haven as a Herald trainee - and you already know how that happened - and Staven stayed with the family. Staven and I were close - we were even closer than most twins, we could sense each other's thoughts and we always knew when one of us was injured." Tylendel's lips quirked. "A bit like you and I, I suppose."

Vanyel flushed.

"Until they murdered him, that is." Tylendel clenched his fist and stared at the floor, unseeing. "They hired a mage from outKingdom to kill him, and-- I felt it, of course, we were linked. And as he died he made me promise to get revenge for him."

Savil said he went crazy, Vanyel thought. I guess this is what she meant.

"I... well. You don't need to know what I was planning to do once I reached the other side, but I almost killed myself trying to open a Gate, and if Savil hadn't stopped me I probably would have. She managed to convince me to take it to the Courts instead. And that's why I don't like to talk about my family."

Vanyel shrank back a little. "I didn't mean to make you mad. You're always telling me I shouldn't keep things bottled up inside, I thought it might help to talk about it. I'd rather hear it from you than Aunt Savil."

Tylendel looked guilty. "Gods, Van, I'm not angry at you, I'm just... angry at myself, I suppose, for not being able to let it go."

"They were family," said Vanyel positively. "I'd be devastated if anything happened to my family, and you know how close I'm not to most of them." He hesitated for a moment, but since he'd already started digging... "But do you think it's been long enough that it shouldn't hurt so much?"

Tylendel gave him a shallow imitation of a smile. "Is there a standard for this sort of thing?"

I wonder if he would let me touch him... He's hugged me before, so surely he won't mind? Vanyel hesitated a moment more, then crossed the room and sat next to Tylendel on the bench so that their thighs touched. "I'm glad you told me," he said gently. "It means a lot to me."

Tylendel stiffened, then relaxed again as Vanyel didn't move any closer. "Thank you for listening," he said quietly. "And-- for not hating me."

"I could never hate you," said Vanyel, completely sure of it.

Tylendel laughed to himself, and leant over so that he could rest his head on Van's shoulder, where they stayed until Savil came to check on the progress of Van's letter.

--

Tylendel waited until Vanyel was safely ensconced with Starwind, then went in search of Moondance. He took it slowly, spending as much time exploring the Vale as he did seeking out likely places for Moondance to be.

He poked his nose into countless pools and springs, fought his way valiantly through giant ferns and stumbled into near-hidden pathways, discovering many different types of colourful birds and aquatic life but no Healing Adepts.

Of course, he could have asked Gala or Savil where Moondance was... but then they would have wanted to know why.

Tylendel eventually found him snipping the dead heads from a flowering plant on the north edge of the Vale.

Moondance nodded in acknowledgement of his presence. "Good morning."

He returned the greeting absently. Tylendel watched Moondance prune for a moment, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, over and over. "Savil says you're a MindHealer," he blurted out, when the waiting became too much.

Moondance raised his eyebrows. "I am a Healer-Adept," he corrected gently. "Perhaps not a MindHealer in sense you use it in Valdemar, but it is true that I do not believe Healing should stop with the physical body."

"Can I ask you something?"

"By all means." Moondance put his pruning shears aside and gave Tylendel his full attention.

Tylendel had spent a lot of time thinking about how to phrase this question. "Do you think that being prevented from committing a crime is the same as actually committing the crime?"

Moondance's eyebrows rose so high they almost disappeared into his hairline. "You do not pick easy questions," he said, with the hint of a teasing smile. "Let me see if I understand you correctly. If somebody were to have the intent of committing a crime and were on the verge of being successful, but had been prevented by external forces?"

Tylendel nodded.

"Naturally it is not the same to the victim of the crime, but that is not what you mean. And I do not think you are concerned about the point of view of those who prevented the crime."

He shook his head.

"So. For the one who would have committed the crime, should they consider themselves guilty of the crime?" Moondance looked at him shrewdly. "Or... should they atone for the crime as if they had been successful?"

"The latter, more than the former," said Tylendel.

"Walk with me?" suggested Moondance. Tylendel fell into step beside him as they made their way along one of the winding paths that led to the outer perimeter of the Vale. "I think that this is largely going to depend on the individual circumstances," he said thoughtfully. "But I would say, no, it is not the same. There is nothing to atone for, as no crime has been committed."

"But if Savil and Gala hadn't stopped me I would have--"

Moondance held up a hand. "Let me finish. The onus is not to atone but to prevent the situation from occurring a second time."

Tylendel thought about that for several moments. "Isn't that essentially the same as atoning for a crime, though?"

"A good point. To my mind, atonement has two aspects. The healing of the hurt caused, and the prevention of repetition. As there was no hurt caused, the former is irrelevant. It is of the latter that I speak."

"But how? If you have once chosen the path of destruction, how can you ensure you won't take it again?" asked Tylendel.

Moondance was silent for a moment, as if he were trying to steel himself for something. "I would tell you of a boy named Tallo..." began Moondance quietly. "I think there is some that you have in common." When Tylendel didn't object, he continued. "Picture, if you will, a simple farming village, populated with people who are well-meaning but set in the ways that have served them for centuries. To this village, the boy Tallo was born - possessed of the ability to use magic, which was unknown to them, and of an inclination towards his own gender, which was forbidden. He grew apart from his family, and the more he drifted away the more they fought to keep him within the boundaries they knew. This is an old story; I'm sure I do not need to elaborate."

Tylendel nodded in understanding. Like Van... Or like me, before Gala came.

"So, to this village comes a troupe of gleemen and one of them takes Tallo as his lover. They plan to run away together but they are discovered, beaten and cast out of the village. In anger and pain, Tallo's lover disavows him, and in pain and rejection, Tallo tries to frighten him into returning." Moondance looked away, although Tylendel didn't think he was seeing anything with that distant gaze. "He calls down lightning with half-learned magic and his lover dies in agony. In despair and remorse, knowing his lover to have been true despite his words, Tallo attempts to take his own life. If it had not been for the fortuitous arrival of an out-lander - one Herald-Mage Savil Ashkevron - he would have perished as he desired. Yet, he does not. Savil brings him to her friend, Starwind of k'Treva, and Tallo is introduced to his shay'kreth'ashke."

Some time later, long after Moondance had fallen silent, Tylendel cleared his throat. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't know." That's why Savil was always so insistent that I learn to control the offensive magics; why she wanted me to work past my rage and think logically. So that it would never escape me like it did poor Moondance...

"It is not a story I choose to tell often," said Moondance. "Well. So for Tallo, the atonement was to pronounce him dead by his own hand, repudiate his family and become Moondance alone. But that does not mean that Moondance never feels regret for what he did." Moondance looked at him sidelong. "As you, I suspect. But for you, I do not think anything so dramatic is required. You are a Herald, and you wish to remain a Herald. I think that is enough. And I believe - I truly believe - that if you feel regret enough that it haunts you so many years later, you run little risk of losing control a second time."

"But I don't," Tylendel whispered. "I've run it over a hundred times and I cannot imagine ever refusing Staven. And... And I..." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "He was my brother, and I miss him, and I wish he were here with me. I know I shouldn't, I know what Savil says, I know he wasn't-- wasn't rational, not about the Leshara, I know he was wrong, and yet... and yet I--"

"Shh," said Moondance, unexpectedly pulling him into a tight embrace. Tylendel suspected himself of crying; he couldn't be quite sure with his face pressed into the soft fabric of Moondance's robe.

"Gala said if I ever did something like it again she'd cut me off forever. I don't want that - I could never want that - so why do I still feel so lost?"

Moondance gently stroked his hair. "'Lendel, it is all right to love someone without agreeing with them. Family have a peculiar way of getting under your skin. Just look at your shay'kreth'ashke, worrying himself sick over the opinions of a father who has never accepted him for who he is."

"But that's different--"

Moondance didn't let him finish. "And it is normal to grieve for the loss of a close relationship, no matter the circumstances of that loss. Allow yourself to grieve, Herald Tylendel."

Once he had nearly exhausted himself with the outpouring of emotion, Tylendel began to feel a little embarrassed. He pulled away and gave Moondance a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry. I never meant to lay all that on you."

Moondance smiled slightly, and thumbed away tear tracks from under Tylendel's eyes. "It is no problem for me. I am glad to be here."

In mutual, unspoken accord, they walked back towards the King Tree. "If you do not wish to explain yourself to your shay'kreth'ashke and mentor, I would suggest you stop by the bathing pools first," said Moondance, gently teasing. "I would not wish to have to defend my honour for having reduced you to tears!"

Tylendel smiled. "Then I will protect your honour and take your advice."

They parted ways at the entrance to the bathing chamber. "Again, thank you, Moondance," said Tylendel. "You've given me a lot to think about."

Moondance cocked his head to the side. "For the better, I hope?"

"I think so." For the first time in six years, he could think of his brother without guilt twisting him up inside. "There's still a lot I have to work through, but... I think I can manage it now."

"Then I am glad," said Moondance.

--

Gods, thought Vanyel. This is just like dealing with Jervis in the old days. I don't understand what he's asking me to do and he won't listen to me when I ask for an explanation. He slunk into the ekele, hoping for some quiet time to contemplate his shame. 'Sword of Ice' is right. He may know what he's talking about, but would it kill him to offer a few words of praise once in a while?

His desires were not to be met; Tylendel was already inside the ekele, bent over the writing desk with one hand tangled in his messy dark-gold curls. He looked up at Vanyel and winced minutely. "That bad, was it?"

Vanyel sighed. "I don't want to talk about it." He looked longingly at the bed, but it seemed Tylendel had other plans.

"I got permission to ride outside the Vale today," Tylendel commented. "There are trails nearby that should be safe enough. I was going to go with Gala this morning, but then I thought I'd wait and see if you wanted to come."

Vanyel tried to think of a polite way to refuse, then realised he didn't really want to. "All right." :Yfandes? Did you want to come for a ride?: He was never entirely sure how much she and Gala shared with each other.

:Of course,: said Yfandes. :It will be nice to get outside the Vale,: she added wistfully. :This eternal spring is unsettling.:

:I'm sorry,: replied Vanyel. :You must be bored, with me in lessons all the time.:

:The lessons are important,: Yfandes rebuked him gently. :And I am content, I assure you.:

"'Fandes says we can go," said Vanyel out loud.

Tylendel gave him one of those brilliant smiles that made Vanyel's stomach flip. "Then I'll let the others know. You get into your riding leathers; the hertasi will probably have the Companions saddled before we make it to the stable."

The hertasi had gone one better than that - there were packs filled with bread, cheese and fruits to accompany them on the journey. "Do they think we'll be gone a week?" Vanyel asked, amused in spite of himself.

"Thank you," Tylendel called out, although without lowering his shields Vanyel couldn't tell if any hertasi were near enough to hear.

The difference as they left the Vale and ventured into the Pelagirs proper was palpable. Outside, they were in mid-Autumn, and there was a definite chill in the air. Vanyel shivered a little as the breeze picked up.

Tylendel grinned sheepishly. "Maybe we should have packed coats."

Vanyel shook his head. "I'll be all right once we pick up the pace a bit."

Tylendel didn't say anything out loud, but Vanyel suspected him of some silent communication with Gala as they immediately pulled ahead, leaving Yfandes to mutter a curse and pick up her own pace to catch up.

Riding on a Companion was both like and yet unlike riding a horse. Yfandes moved with more regard for his comfort than a horse would, and no horse Vanyel had ridden would ever have managed such confidence - or relative silence - when riding through unfamiliar woods.

They found a clearing after about a candlemark and settled to consume their food. "It's not really what I expected," said Vanyel, looking around the clearing curiously. The foliage was alien to him, but not without beauty of its own. Here and there sunlight broke the canopy, and the overall feeling was not of darkness at all.

"The Tayledras heal the land," Tylendel reminded him. "We're very close to the Vale here. Deeper into the Pelagirs... I don't know what you'd find, but it wouldn't be pretty."

Vanyel shivered. "Let's hope we don't have to find out."

As if the fates had heard his plea and decided to ignore it, the peace of the moment was shattered by a blood-curdling scream.

They both froze.

"A rabbit, I think?" said Tylendel. "It didn't sound human."

Vanyel wasn't quite ready to breathe a sigh of relief yet - after all, something had killed that rabbit.

"We should investigate," said Tylendel, already halfway onto Gala's back.

"Wait, what?" said Vanyel. In his confusion he struggled to mount Yfandes. "Why?"

"Use your Gifts," said Tylendel. "Something doesn't feel right."

Letting Yfandes take the lead in following Gala through the underbrush, Vanyel closed his eyes and attempted to do as Tylendel had suggested. He could pick up many lives in the surrounding forest - far more than he would have guessed - but it all seemed innocent, except... Vanyel recoiled. So that's what he meant. Something was severely off-balance, in a way that made Vanyel's skin crawl.

When they finally reached the source of the disturbance, Vanyel froze with horror. It wasn't just one creature, it was lots. They were hideously misshapen and their minds consumed with only one thought - rendtearkill.

Vanyel shuddered. :We should get out of here,: he Mindsent to Tylendel desperately. :I don't think they've noticed us yet.:

He could feel Tylendel's confusion. :What? Vanyel, what are you talking about? We have to fight.:

:There's no honour in being killed for being too proud to get away when you're outmatched!: Vanyel insisted.

:Van, there's a village nearby. We can't just leave these creatures here.:

:But how can we possibly fight them? We're only two--:

:Four,: corrected Yfandes, her Mindvoice completely neutral.

:We can hold them off long enough for Savil and the others to reach us,: said Tylendel firmly. :You Mindcall for them, you're stronger.:

:'Fandes...:

:Tylendel's right. We're too close to the village; they'd have no defence against these creatures.: She sent a wave of reassurance. :Just follow his lead. He knows what he's doing.:

Vanyel closed his eyes again and sought out his aunt's mental presence. It was a lot harder to do over a distance, and although he was surprised and grateful that they had not travelled very far from the Vale at all, it was still a struggle to make and maintain a connection. :Aunt Savil,: he said, and then sent her an image of what was going on. Well, that's one advantage of Mindspeech...

:Gods,: said Savil, adding a few choice curses of her own. :Van, don't panic. Just listen to 'Lendel. Starwind and I will be along as quickly as we can.:

The offensive magics Vanyel had been struggling to master that very morning seemed much easier to handle when faced with an obvious target. At Tylendel's prompting, he managed to summon fire and cast it at the creatures that were now circling in front of them, snapping and snarling.

The creatures were startled by the attack and drew back momentarily, but swiftly regrouped. They didn't seem to have suffered any damage at all.

:They're immune to fire,: cursed Tylendel. :Let's just hope that's all they're immune to.:

The closest of the creatures launched itself at them, snarling and swiping with claws that glinted in the sunlight, but together they managed to fling it back into the centre of the group of its peers.

:You try blasting lightning at that one, I'll try ice,: said Tylendel.

Vanyel closed his eyes to try and remember how, exactly, he was supposed to call lightning. He felt the power gathering in his palms, then abruptly lost it as Yfandes lurched to the side. His eyes snapping open, he saw her kick one of the creatures between the eyes, smashing its skull
and coating her foreleg with black blood. Vanyel felt bile rise in his throat and swallowed quickly.

Seeing their comrade fall, its mates howled in anguish. The uncanny sound made hairs rise on Vanyel's arms.

:Did it get you?: he asked Yfandes, still fighting his stomach for control.

:I'm fine,: said Yfandes. :Try the lightning, Van, most magical creatures have some weakness.:

This time the lightning easily and he flung it haphazardly at the nearest of the creatures. It recoiled, and the air filled with the smell of burning flesh. Limping, the creature picked itself up from the ground, still conscious and even further enraged.

Yfandes danced back as the creature lunged at her and Vanyel held onto the pommel for dear life. :I won't throw you, Vanyel,: said Yfandes. :Companion saddles are made for combat. Just get that creature off me!:

Taking her at her word, Vanyel gripped with his knees and flung the creature into its fellows with the raw power of his mind.

To his left, Tylendel let out a cry of triumph. His ice appeared to have temporarily disabled one of the creatures, but as Vanyel watched it fought its way free.

:I think if we both call lightning on the same target at once we may be able to hurt them enough to bring them down one by one,: said Tylendel. :As long as we can keep the others from reaching us both at the same time we'll be able to hold them off for long enough.:

:All right,: said Vanyel. :Just show me where to aim.:

Tylendel did so, but unlike when Starwind linked with him to demonstrate a magical technique, he didn't immediately unlink once Vanyel understood what he was expected to do. Instead, they remained linked, Vanyel feeling Tylendel's thoughts as if they were his own, acting as soon as Tylendel chose a target.

He barely even noticed when Savil and Starwind arrived, he was so focussed on Tylendel. When he came back to himself, he found the creatures all dead and all his limbs heavy with profound exhaustion.

"Wh-what happened?" He glanced at Tylendel and found him sagging on Gala's back, with a similar dazed expression to what Vanyel felt he must be sporting.

Starwind shook his head in wonder. "You'd merged your power," he said. "Usually it takes months of training to master concert work."

Tylendel blinked. "Like what you were trying to teach Mardic and Donni?" he asked Savil.

Savil rolled her eyes. "Gods, yes, that. How you managed to do that, with Vanyel not even half-trained and never having used magic together before--"

Tylendel coughed. "That's not entirely true."

"Fine. Never having used magic together before while conscious..."

Starwind cleared his throat. "While I must confess I am just as intrigued as you, Wingsister, we have a problem here. I am afraid these may not be the only pack of such creatures that have moved into our territory, and I am concerned for the state of the village."

Savil nodded in agreement. "All right. Van and 'Lendel, follow us and don't fall behind. We're not going to be taking the paths." Vanyel sensed she was speaking from very recent experience.

The journey was just as challenging as predicted, and Vanyel was just grateful that Yfandes was doing most of the work here. :Are you all right?: he asked.

:I think Vale life is making me soft,: she replied. :We'll have to run the endurance course a few times when we get back to Valdemar!:

Vanyel smiled, then clung to his saddle desperately as Yfandes cleared a fallen tree in a bone-jarring leap. I don't care what she says, no saddle can keep a person seated through that.

They reached the village just as Vanyel was starting to wonder how much more of this he could take.

The village was quite unlike any Vanyel had seen before, and if he had been on his own he would probably not have identified it as such. There were fields and barns on the outer rim, but the inner circle was surrounded by heavy fortifications.

As they approached, Vanyel heard a piercing whistle and a gate opened to let them in.

The villagers gathered around as they entered, clearly fascinated by these strangers with the white horses. Starwind they recognised, and one of the children ran off to fetch the Mayor.

At Savil's signal Vanyel dismounted gingerly, not quite trusting his legs to hold him.

Inside, the village was modest, with mostly wooden construction and thatched roofs. Chickens scratched in the dirt between the houses, and dogs sat unleashed on doorsteps. For their part, the people of the village seemed adequately fed and their children happy.

Starwind was talking to the Village Speaker about the creatures they'd seen.

"We had something come snuffling by last night," he said. "I didn't get a look at what it were, but the dogs all set up a-howling. There were a few chickens gone, but that's all, and that could have been be anything." The Speaker straightened. "We've done what you said, Lord. We don't keep any food except inside sealed jars and lined boxes, and never outside."

"I'm not your lord," corrected Starwind absently. "And you've done well. If they didn't find anything last night, chances are they won't come again."

The Speaker looked relieved.

"But I'll have one of the mages from the Vale spend the night here, all the same," Starwind continued.

A little bored, Vanyel examined the village with his Mage Sight. Shocked, he realised that not one of the villagers had the Mage Gift. Magic glimmered here and there, in trinkets and around several places where it seemed things had been repaired, but the villagers were ordinary, unGifted human beings.

And they live out here? In the Pelagirs? The ground around here seemed fertile and sheltered, certainly tempting for an enterprising holder, but... I hope it's worth it.

Vanyel was lost in thought as they made their way back to the Vale - thankfully, at a much slower pace. The villagers didn't seem to owe anything to Starwind; he even corrected them when they called him Lord. But he helped them anyway.

"Copper for your thoughts?" said Tylendel, pulling back so that he could ride next to Vanyel.

"I think I understand now," said Vanyel slowly. "Why you'd want to be a Herald; why you weren't willing to let those creatures go. It isn't just duty, it's a responsibility because-- because we're the only ones who can. The villagers wouldn't have stood a chance against those creatures."

Tylendel gave him a surprised and pleased look. "I think you've got the right of it," he said. "I can't ever just ignore a situation and hope someone else deals with it, because there may not be anyone else around who has the ability to do it."

"And it's not just skills or training," Vanyel continued. "The Mage-Gift; Mind Gifts... you can't just learn those."

Tylendel nodded emphatically. "That's it exactly."

"And that's why we have Heralds?"

"That's one of the reasons, lad," said Savil, joining the conversation unexpectedly. "We're also a neutral negotiating party, we're the right arm of the Queen... lots of things you'll learn more about once we get back to the Collegium. For now, though, you should concentrate on magic."

Starwind cleared his throat. "On that note... I think we should get you started on node work so that you need not exhaust yourself quite so much." Beside him, Vanyel felt Tylendel start with a mixture of envy, pain and guilt.

"I don't know what that means," said Vanyel, glancing at Tylendel in concern.

Starwind ignored him - as he was wont to do when Vanyel interrupted him. "Both of you. Tylendel, you have not so powerful a mage gift as your shay'kreth'ashke, but it is time for you to learn to use it most effectively."

Tylendel started again, but this time in surprise and joy. "You-- You'd trust me with that?"

"The question should be, do you trust you with that? I will not demand an answer now, but you should think on it before you start your training."

Before Vanyel even realised they were close, they were passing back into the Vale. The exhaustion he'd been feeling earlier returned in full force, and it was all he could do to dismount and undress for bed.

He was asleep almost before his cheek touched the pillow.

--

Vanyel slept the night through and woke at dawn, alone in the bed and itching for a bath. The exhaustion of the day before had faded, leaving him with only the vague throb of a lingering headache.

He pulled on one of the robes the Tayledras used for just this purpose and made his way to the bathing chamber. From experience he knew the little-seen hertasi would provide clothing and food while he was bathing. I could get used to this... I think Yfandes may be right. This place is making me soft.

Vanyel discarded his robe as he entered the bathing room - then jumped as he realised he wasn't alone. His cheeks burning, Vanyel dropped into the 'pool for washing' as quickly as possible. "I'm sorry," he said, addressing the words to Tylendel but his gaze to the ceiling. "I didn't think anybody else would be in here."

"If you're feeling like I did when I woke, I don't blame you," said Tylendel lightly, but there was an undercurrent to his words that Vanyel couldn't quite follow. No, it wasn't the words, it was emotional...

Oh, thought Vanyel, fighting back another blush. I wonder if I dare... but I'm not going to get another opportunity this perfect.

Vanyel scrubbed himself down thoroughly and then hesitated. "Mind if I join you in there?" he asked, aiming for innocence he wasn't feeling. "I could really do with a long, hot soak."

"N-no, I was almost done," said Tylendel, sounding a bit strangled.

Vanyel changed pools and sank into the water right next to Tylendel. "Don't," he said, seeing Tylendel preparing to leave and putting a hand on Tylendel's thigh to still him. "Stay with me?"

Tylendel looked at him searchingly, although what he was looking for Vanyel wasn't sure. He brushed a lock of hair out of Vanyel's eyes and the unexpected contact made Vanyel shiver as the link between them thrummed with desire. "Van. Are you sure?"

Vanyel nodded. "I wanted you before. Before we came here, hell, before you even left Haven. I was just too scared to do anything about it." He reached over so that he could take Tylendel's hand in his. "Well, I don't have anything to be scared of anymore, 'Lendel, and I want this."

Tylendel caught his gaze again and sat staring at him for far too long a time. Just as Vanyel was starting to think he'd said something wrong, he smiled. "I was only waiting for you."

"We're lifebonded," Vanyel reminded him. "I don't want to wait any more. We should enjoy it as much as we can." He gave Tylendel a shy smile of his own.

Tylendel cupped his cheek, then let his thumb drop down to brush against that smile. As Vanyel felt his heart-rate increase, he closed the distance between them and replaced that thumb with his lips.

Then he abruptly stood and climbed out of the pool.

Vanyel blinked in confusion. "Where are you going?"

"We can't do this here," said Tylendel, winking. "Who knows who else might wander in. And I don't know about you, but I've always found it more comfortable on a bed."

Vanyel couldn't get out of the pool fast enough.

--

Savil made her way up the hellish stairway to Starwind's ekele, every step a mixture of dread and effort. I'm not so young as I used to be - not that that's any excuse for Starwind!  "Now what was so important that you had to drag me all the way up here?"

"Nothing," said Starwind placidly. "I just thought we might like to have some privacy for this conversation."

Savil flung herself into one of the soft armchairs, as far away from the window as possible. "What, then?"

"Well, firstly, I've had word from Windsong in the village - nothing happened overnight, but she agrees that there may be more than one pack of those creatures out there, so we'll increase our patrols for the next week or so."

Savil nodded. "Let me know if you need an extra hand - I'm itching for something to do. We Heralds aren't used to sitting around idle!"

"And secondly, thy students."

Moondance, currently decorating the other side of the long seat occupied by Starwind, cleared his throat. "The hertasi inform me that our two lovebirds have finally progressed their relationship to the physical level."

Savil rolled her eyes. "Well, it's about time."

Starwind smiled. "I think I will not summon him for lessons this morning after all." At Savil's snort, he continued. "You forget, I have been through this." He and Moondance simultaneously twined their fingers together without any sign of consultation.

"Believe you me, I had not forgotten," said Savil acidly. "Still, this is good news." For them, anyway. I don't think Van's father is going to agree.

"I agree; I think it will be good for them both." Moondance looked her over searchingly. "How are you feeling, Wingsister?"

Savil took a moment to sort through her feelings. "Hopeful," she said, at last. "Now that Van understands how he can use his powers, I think we have the makings of a great Herald on our hands."

Starwind nodded in understanding. "He will not have an easy time of it," he said soberly. "His powers are unnaturally great, and he will find it alienates him from many of his peers, to say nothing of those he is bound to protect. But I believe with the support of his friends and his shay'kreth'ashke, he will achieve great things."

"And Tylendel?"

"He begins to heal," said Moondance simply. "I think he is not so lacking in self-confidence that he will refuse your training, ashke." Starwind nodded in agreement.

Savil let out a sigh of relief. "I should have brought him to you years ago," she said.

"It may not have helped, then," said Moondance. "Sometimes things happen at the time they are supposed to, no earlier."

"Well, that's why I leave the philosophy to you." She regarded her old friends with affection. "And if that's all, then I am getting down from this death-trap of a tree house."

Oh, hang Withen, anyway. His son's going to be one of the best damn Heralds in the Circle, if we do our jobs right. If he's not proud of that, I'll just have to be proud enough to make up for it.