Page 68 of Valdemar

“Companions are fast,” Restil told him. “Incredibly fast. And Darshay says she’s the fastest of the lot.”

“Well, while you were gone, I made two more Sydney songs, and I think I have the song about how the Companions appeared mostly worked out. But I don’t want anyone but Lythe to hear it for now. Not until it’s ready.” Rothas took a deep breath. “The Syd songs are one thing. They are supposed to be funny, not accurate, and not . . . inspiring. This has to be perfect.”

Restil nodded with approval. But Rothas was not finished with him. “Is there really going to be a war?” the Bard asked, hesitantly.

“I wouldn’t call it a war, exactly,” Restil told him—because, after all, this was not exactly a secret. “But it is going to be dangerous, it will definitely be terrible on the border, and if things go wrong, Haven itself might be endangered.” Then he gave Rothas the shortest possible explanation.

The Bard frowned. “Fighting is only interesting when it’s in the past and didn’t happen to anyone you know,” he said unhappily. “I didn’t like it much when villagers got into fights with each other. I really don’t like this. What did you do to make this mage so angry with you?”

“Exist, as far as I can tell,” the Prince told him. “For some people, that’s all that’s necessary, I guess. In exact terms, we don’t even know if she’s hostile, and we don’t know for certain that this army she is raising is meant to attack us—but she is dangerous enough just by being an Adept that we’d be naive to assume friendliness.”

Rothas continued frowning as they walked toward the Palace. “I have some ideas,” he said, just as they got to the door that would lead to the Great Hall where supper was probably being laid out. “I’ll let you know if Sai thinks they’re any good.”

The heady smell of fresh-baked bread wafted out of the windows and the door when they opened it, and the bell in the Palace bell tower rang to announce the first serving. Rothas headed for the hall; Restil headed for the royal suite. The King and Queen usually ate at the second serving; the first was for all the hardworking folk serving in the Palace. Occasionally some highborn snuck in to the first serving—they weren’t actually barred from eating then—but mostly they waited for the second serving, which was for the highborn and their personal servants. The reason for this? The highborn and their personal servants were habitual lingerers over their meals. Most, if not all, of the Palace servants, which included the gardeners, the laundry workers, the stablehands, and the cleaners rose extremely early and were hungrier by the time that supper came, and many wanted to go straight to their beds. Those that did not used the fading daylight after dinner to tend to their own needs, and weren’t inclined to waste a moment in gossip or gawking. No one was going to do their mending or other domestic chores for them. If they were still wakeful and had nothing pressing to do after the second serving was over, they were welcome to enjoy whatever entertainment there might be after supper from the gallery above the Great Hall.

As for the kitchen staff and the servers, they ate first, before the food went out to the Great Hall. That was Isla’s doing. It had been the same way at the Ducal manor. She felt that it was unfair for people to be working around food when they, themselves, were hungry.

Since moving in with the Heralds, Restil generally ate at first serving, but Ardatha had passed on that his parents wanted him to eat with them. Since Darshay had kept everyone up to date on exactly where she and Restil were, and how the proclamation was being received at every stop he made, there wasn’t anyone he needed to report in to.

Another wonderful thing about Companions.Well, there were just so many wonderful things about Companions that he could be all day listing them. And right now, rather than think about what was looming in front of them, he decided he’d see the family.

That got him as far as the door to the royal suite, where the Guards gave him little deferential nods—the King had scolded them for bowing too much—and one of them opened the door for him. The first person he saw was Jon, sitting in the boat that had been converted into a couch, with three kittens climbing over him.

Jon started to jump to his feet, remembered he had a lap full of kittens, and put the kittens down on the floor where they toddled over to their mother, falling over their own feet a few times. “You got back fast! We weren’t expecting you to be back before tomorrow!”

“Darshay is the fastest of the Companions,” he said proudly (and maybe a little smugly). “How is the library coming?”

“Things are going faster now that I have each shelf organized in alphabetical order,” his brother said, combing his dark, curly hair out of his eyes with his fingers. “I haven’t been able to get most of the Heralds’ stories yet because you all scattered to the four winds, but I am getting a lot from the Companions that haven’t Chosen yet, and from Ardatha.” Jon practically glowed with happiness when he said that, which made his brother both pleased and relieved. “I spend most afternoons out there with them. I can’t believe they want to talk to me, but they do.”

“So now you have got your own circle of friends,” he replied, clapping Jon on the back. “Instead of people, you have a circle of Companion friends!”

“I . . . guess I have.” Jon ducked his head shyly. “They’re . . . rather wonderful, aren’t they?”

“Yes. Yes, they are.”

:Indeed we are,:Darshay laughed in his mind. :But you can go right on reminding people of that.:

:Vain horse!: Restil shot back.

Both the King and the Queen came in at that moment, shortly followed by Hakkon, and there was a bit of babble as they all studiously avoided the subject of the looming conflict in favor of trivialities. But Restil could not avoid noticing that Hakkon was unusually sober behind the banter, and he reckoned that being in on the Lord Martial’s preparations had driven home just how serious the situation was, and how little they actually knew. That last would be greatly troubling his lordship, and he would not have hidden that from Hakkon.

So brother Hakkon is starting to understand that not even Father is in control of everything. The day that Restil had figured that out had been a sobering one for him. And a bit frightening. And that had been the day he became very determined to do what he could to help, in whatever way he could. It looked as if the revelation was having the same effect on Hakkon.

And Jon figured it out before either of us. I think he may be smarter than both of us combined.

Restil did a great deal of the talking, with little details about every hamlet and village he’d passed through. Jon looked as if he was longing to take notes, but refrained.

:Don’t worry, I’ll retell it all to him tomorrow,:Darshay offered.

:You’ll remember it all better than I will,:he admitted.

Just before they ran out of things to say, the bell sounded for second serving, and it was with a great deal of relief on Restil’s part at least that they all went down to eat.

He was more than a bit surprised to see that Silvermoon and his cousin Starbird were there, and when the places were sorted out, Restil found himself sitting next to her. He had expected them to leave shortly after he had—after all, they hadn’t brought anything like belongings with them, except for the clothing they wore and their birds. Starbird seemed just as reserved as she had been when the two had first arrived, and he decided to introduce himself a second time, since it didn’t appear that she was going to make any overtures.

She was not what his mother would have called “conventionally pretty,” but since the Queen often used that term as a pejorative, that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. He liked how she looked; she had a composed expression that appealed to him a great deal. Her features were sharply defined, sculptural, which gave her a look not unlike her bondbird, and she had bound up her long black hair into a knot at the top of her head, which was skewered in place by a couple of dagger-like hairpins.

Or for all I know, they are daggers.