Page 52 of Valdemar

Beltran blushed.

By the time he tore himself away, Rothas was hunkered down on a stool with a look of intense concentration on his face, coming up with a new question whenever one of them paused.

Restil’s meeting with the ship-builders was entirely satisfactory. Like apparently everyone in Haven, they had heard the rescue story, tsk’d disapprovingly over the amateur construction of the ferry, and had strong opinions about the entire incident. But they were more than willing to build a good bridge.

“If you can get us supports to build on,” said Jensom Hardhand, the fellow they all called their “captain.” “That’s not something we know anything about. We concentrate on keeping our work off the rocks.”

“There’s no one with that kind of skill at the moment,” Restil admitted. “Stone-workers and brick-workers yes, but not anyone who can build supports in the middle of the river. So the mages are taking care of the supports, since we don’t think we can get Pebble here any time soon. That’s what we’ll be working with.” Restil promised. “The King wants to know, mainly, if you have enough experienced workers to put a small wooden bridge up in a reasonable length of time, something to allow for foot and light horse traffic, and what you think you need besides timber. We have ten years of being here to have a good idea of what the high-water mark will be, and I am told that putting the bridge on the level with the top of the banks will be fine.”

The discussion didn’t take long, and he went back to the Palace with a short list of materials and sketches for the bridge and the safety equipment they wanted. The bridge wasn’t going to be elegant, but it would be enough for foot and light horse traffic—and it would be covered, with a kind of shed-like construction above it, opening to the banks at each end, to keep the weather off. A good point, since an icy bridge would be dangerous, and bridges froze before the ground did—and the sheer weight of snow buildup could crack a bridge to splinters.

What wasn’t usual were the safety considerations the builders wanted. Nets both in the river and suspended from the side of the bridge to catch both falling materials and falling people. “You’ll be needing to leave those nets in the river in place,” Jensom cautioned. “They’ll be the last way for people to save themselves before the rapids. And you’ll need a crew of regulars that are good climbers and swimmers, with grapples and hooks, to clear the nets about once a week or so, or those nets will fill up full of debris and be more of a hazard than a help.”

That sounds familiar, somehow.Restil was proud to inform them that those very subjects had come up in the Council discussions, and direct word from the King was to prevent harm befalling the building crew.

The ride back to the Palace was interesting. Being on Darshay made him highly visible, even if people didn’t recognize him as the Crown Prince. But because people recognized him as a Herald first and foremost, he found himself grinning broadly at all the waves and even a few cheers—and he certainly appreciated the way folks cleared out of the way so Darshay could head for the Palace at a brisk canter. And that was when something occurred to him.

:Darshay, can one of the others be spared to go talk to the priests of Epona, and find out if whoever was teaching the children can relocate to their side of the river on a temporary basis until the bridge is finished? And find a place to relocate the school to. If someone is going to have to travel for lessons, it’s easier on a single adult than a gaggle of littles, and I don’t want any of them to miss their schooling.:

:Absolutely,:came the immediate answer. :Delia is going to talk to the priests. Beltran and Rothas are going to cross the river and find a suitable place for the children to take lessons. Beltran is taking Rothas because he can be . . . persuasive . . . as I am sure you know.:

Indeed he did know. Rothas could exercise his Bardic powers now merely by humming under his breath. Restil knew that the Old Men had been pounding morals and ethics into his skull from the time they realized he had Gifts, and—

Well, this would be a test of whether or not he handled those Gifts appropriately. A touch of please, we really need this, it’s important for the children would be ethical. You’ll give us what we want and thank us for the privilege would not.

:Kyrith will be able to tell exactly what he is doing, and block it if need be,:Darshay assured him, which was exactly what he wanted to hear. :And then, if he has been exceeding the boundaries, you may be sure that the Old Men will give him an earful when he gets back.:

He thought about going to join them; after all, he was on the side of the river where they were going to look for a venue for the schoolroom. But then again—

If I start interfering when I’ve already set them to do something on their own . . . no, that’s a bad idea. If they can’t find a venue, they’ll need to come up with another plan or ask for help, and that’ll be a useful lesson in itself. Either way, it will be a good first task as a Herald.

:Second task,:Darshay reminded him, reading his mind. :First was rescuing the children.:

He took a moment to marvel at how comfortable he felt that she was reading his mind all the time. It didn’t bother him at all, and if someone had described all this to him before he had been Chosen, he probably would have objected strenuously. But the level of trust he had in her was so deep it was instinct, and their connection went even deeper. :Is this what it feels to be lifebonded?: he asked.

:No,:she replied. :Lifebonding is nothing like this. It transcends the intellect, and isn’t logical. You can be lifebonded to someone you hate, in fact! It’s just a good thing lifebonding is rare. This is emotional, instinctive trust, and we won’t Choose someone who won’t share that trust with us. Instinctively you understand that I will never do anything to harm you with what I know about you. And intellectually we are like twins who have always shared a bond of Mindspeech and Empathy.:

Restil broached a question he hoped would have an understandable answer. :How does a Companion know someone is—compatible with them enough to Choose them?:

Darshay replied, :I discussed this with the others some years ago.:

:Years ago? You didn’t just appear by a Power’s wish?:

Darshay giggled. :What someone here may perceive as a moment could be millennia in the making! The methods of our bodily creation were only a bit older than a single millennium, mixed with some from ancient deep-magic. Our centuries of refinement took more than wishing—it took failures and setbacks, and concerted effort by archmasters of physical secrets and subtlety. Once our souls were created, the mind of our bodies had to be refined in spectacular complexity, and, in all candor, we needed time to practice. We look good now, but—I shall not share with you memories of our creation. You might not eat for a week!:

Restil nodded thoughtfully. Interesting that at least some of the Great Powers had foreseen a need for something like the Companions, that long ago.

:Our purpose is not to see the future, but that is the realm of others in the service of Powers, and they shared the knowledge. Put simplest, Chosen, take comfort in understanding that those who watch over you knew that we would be needed long ago, and our creation by other Powers’ hard work began then.:

Restil mulled that over a while.

:But back to your question. Think of it like music. A note can be perfect, but alone. It isn’t until two strings pick up that note from each other that a rich, complex sound is built and sustained. People have countless traits in their being, and for someone with the right senses every person is an orchestra. Their traits add up to their own unique music, if you will. When a Companion finds that their tone mixes well with another person’s tone, even at long distances physically, interest is taken in them and, with what even I call an amazing sensation, we simply know. We must be very close for the music to follow. Our tones blend, and potentials unfold. Two strings speak in sympathy.: There was a moment of silence as if she was thinking deeply. :And, of course, there are traits we look for as well, which are part of that music. Empathy is an important one. A willingness to help others despite one’s own expense. A broad mind. Intellect. The ability to listen first and speak second. There are others, but these might be the most important ones.:

She paused. :Ardatha tells me that we need to get back to the Palace and your father and yet another Council meeting to report on the bridge situation.:

:I can get very used to this business of being able to communicate immediately with each other,:he said, with a smile. :All right, let’s get some speed on and let Delia and Beltran handle their duties.:

Darshay obliged, moving into a slow gallop. Fortunately people were not so used to Heralds that a Companion pounding past at speed raised any alarm.