Page 49 of Valdemar

Next day, the Council, predictably, was furious. The Council Chamber was in a quiet uproar. People talking over each other, or talking at Kordas. He let them talk without saying a word. They needed to get it all out of their systems. He could understand their concern, but he was the King and Restil was his son, not theirs.

Kordas himself could not have been more proud of his son—of all the new Heralds!—but most of the Council members were appalled that the Crown Princehad put himself in potential danger. Kordas let them yammer on until they ran out of things to say, then stood up.

Silence descended on the room; at this point, his Council members had learned that Kordas seldom exercised his authority, but when he did, it was time to sit down, shut up, and get the hell out of the way.

“Restil’s actions were entirely correct, and it would not have mattered if he was sitting on the throne, rather than being Crown Prince. I nearly bolted out of the Palace to respond, Isla beside me, but we were assured it was being handled. Did you think that the Companions were nothing more than pretty ornaments to bolster the morale of our people? Did you think he should have held back just because he is the Crown Prince, when he had precisely the skills that were needed? Do you really think that I should have forbidden him? Because if I had, there was no one else that could have gotten there in time to keep that boat from going into the rapids. There would have been dozens of our children drowned or smashed on the rocks. I could not have lived with that. I hope neither could you. But if you think you could have actually lived with those deaths on your conscience, rethink your position on the Council.”

He paused and let that sink in, and if the silence had been heavy before, it was now laden with the burden of those words and all they implied.

Before anyone could stammer out an answer, Kordas continued. “I am the King. But I am also a Valdemar, and the Valdemars have always put their people first. Heralds are Valdemaran. How can I, as the King, ask my people to send their heirs into danger when I will not send my own?”

Well, there was no real answer to that question, and mouths around the Council table clamped shut on anything else they might have said.

“Now,” he continued, softening his tone. “It is clear there is a need for a crossing at that point, or people would not have constructed that ferry. But it is also clear that a ferry is not the answer. Or at least, not that sort of crude ferry. This absolutely is a matter for the Council to solve, because the treasury must, in all fairness, cover the costs. Have you any suggestions?”

Koto—who was the mages’ representative today—pulled at his lip. “Well,” he said. “People will complain when we pull our mages off the work they are doing now, but we can raise supports out of the river, the kind we used to support the Gate pylons during our journey, and a bridge can be built atop them. It would be lovely if Pebble were here, but Pebble is building the north riverside route, and then is due back for the loop canal. We’ll do it with our magic. Those giant tree trunks on the shore aren’t decorative, they’re a lesson about what will come downriver, so the stonework needs to be sturdy to begin with. That’s not a casual casting. We’ll need a lot of safety precautions during the building—nets in or over the river to catch whatever falls, for instance, and a dozen other things I haven’t thought of yet—but a bridge is clearly safer than any second attempt at a ferry.”

“Do it,” Kordas ordered, before any of the Council—some of whom probably had projects the mages were working on—could object. “I don’t want anyone to even consider putting another ferry there. And as the uprights are drawn up, I want chains, nets, whatever will work, anchored on them as a last chance before the rapids. In case another boat goes adrift. Whatever goes in the rapids, as best I can tell, never comes out. I think that may be the Mother’s mouth.”

“Let’s hope she doesn’t sneeze,” Koto quipped. “I’ll pass the request on to Sai, and his big mouth will tell the rest.”

“If the mages can do the supports, the treasury can bear the cost of building the bridge itself.” That was Isla, who had been consulting with the Seneschal and the new Lord Exchequer. “It might stretch things a little, since we have all these new Heralds to clothe and support, and sixteen sets of tack to be fitted, but we can juggle costs.”

He and Isla had, of course, known exactly what was going on as the river crisis happened, but there was no way that either of them could have gotten out of the Palace and down to the river in time to do any good. Kordas would never allow anyone but Isla to know how terrified he had been, nor how hard it had been to let Restil take the lead in this crisis. Isla and Ardatha, that is.

Things are different now—I need to include Ardatha as a factor. I used to think privately.

Ardatha had started in that direction on his own, but the King’s Companion hadn’t gotten farther than the postern gate when the rescue was over. It had been a nerve-wracking period, but it had also been an enlightening experience to see for the first time how his Heralds and their Companions could move and work together, in an instant. And how Restil could form a plan in a few moments, then—and this was crucial—do his part and trust that the rest of the Heralds would do theirs just as competently.

It was uncanny how well they deployed, considering theymust still have been in a daze over being Chosen, and they barely knew each other. Imagine how they looked to the bystanders!

And there had been another, entirely welcome development. Those crowds on the bank had spread the tale of the rescue through the town, and the story passed on the wings of gossip as fast as a storm wind. And now, now, no one had any doubt what Heralds were.

Heralds were heroes. Heralds risked themselves for anyone, not just the highborn and important. Since Restil had spearheaded the rescue, the word was that the highborn risked their lives to save the victims without a moment’s hesitation—because they were Heralds!

Heralds served the people.

“Much more good has come of this than the rescue of our precious children alone,” Kordas continued. “Now people know exactly what we are about. Now people will trust us. I would rather that none of this had happened, but in a single afternoon, we have cemented the Heralds’ worth and our usefulness in everyone’s mind. That is worth more than I can say. Think about this, for a moment, before you say anything else, and you will understand what great good has been done this day.”

He let that statement sit there for a while, while the Councilors murmured among themselves.

:Ardatha, how is—everyone? Last I knew, the littles were all being calmed, then fed, then bedded down in the Temple of Epona until their parents could come get them.:

:The children are all safely back home as of this morning, escorted through the postern gate, across the grounds, and down into the city by Herald Tamver. The rest of the Heralds are back to putting their new quarters to rights. The ferryman is being feted as a hero, and rightly so, now that the Healers have tended to his hands. I do not believe he will ever need to pay for a drink for the rest of his life. And you have a procession of folk who are—now—arriving at the front gate bearing a great many gifts. I do not believe that outfitting the new Heralds and Companions will be an issue.:That last was said with a great deal of amusement.

He blinked. :Wait. What?: he replied.

Before Ardatha could reply, a page came to the door and tapped on the frame. “Your Highness, there is a group of people who urgently want to speak to you. There are a number of Guild leaders among them. They appear to have several work-wagons full of goods. They say they have come about the Heralds.”

The Councilors stopped murmuring to each other, and looked first at each other, then at him. “Has Ardatha said anything?” the Seneschal asked.

“Yes, and I believe we need to speak to these people,” Kordas said instantly. “And by ‘we,’ I am not being pretentious. I mean all of us, the entire Council.”

Before they could reply he stood up and gestured to them to do the same. Koto had a twinkle in his eye, and Kordas suspected that he might have had something to do with this—but even if that was not true, there was something about this that had the old mage quite amused.

He took Isla’s arm and led the way, following the page, who took them to the main gate in the wall. Of course on the way they picked up a gaggle of guards—it would have been irresponsible to have gone out there without them, after all. The best place to hide an assassin, as he knew from his studies in the Imperial schools, was in a crowd of supposedly friendly well-wishers.

The gate stood wide open, as it should, since any citizen of Haven and Valdemar should be able to walk up to it and petition for an audience with members of the Council or even the King. And there, waiting patiently, was a decidedly mixed crowd.