Trust Satiran to stay on top of things for him. :Yes I am, and thank you,: he replied gratefully, and instead of turning left when he passed the door marking the entrance to the Palace, he turned right, and penetrated deep into the heart of the Palace. The closer he drew to the seat of power, the more Guards he passed, until he reached the door of the Royal Suite itself. Instead of the usual two Guards, there were six. Theran was taking no chances with the safety of himself or his family.
Pol nodded to the two Guards actually on either side of the door itself, recognizing both of them. One of them opened the door for him, and Pol stepped right into the midst of the ongoing meeting.
They all stopped long enough to greet him, then returned to the discussion at hand—the contributions of those first ten Trainees who'd been rushed into service. Pol took a seat next to the fire and listened.
Jedin was the one making the report; Rolan was fully capable of Mindspeaking to any Companion in the country, no matter how far apart they were, so it was Rolan who relayed these reports to his Chosen.
It was fairly clear why Theran had chosen to hold the meeting in his private quarters. Warmth and comfort. Even the Lesser Council Chamber was drafty and chill, and the seats around the Council Table were hard and unyielding. Granted, this did tend to lead to shorter Council sessions—which in itself wasn't a bad thing—but why endure discomfort when you didn't have a reason to? Not that anyone was lolling about by any means, but there were not going to be any long, drawn-out arguments from this lot. Like Pol, everyone here had so much to do that they resented a single wasted moment.
The gist of Jedin's report was that the newly-promoted youngsters were doing as well or better than they had been expected to. All of them had Gifts that were particularly useful in a battlefield situation. Of the ten, six were strong Mindspeakers and acted as communications liaisons all along the front. Two were FarSeers and essentially functioned as scouts, spying on the movements of enemy troops. One, an Animal Mind-speaker, was able to use the birds of the region for the same purpose. The last had one of those quirky Gifts that did not, at first, seem particularly useful until one saw it in action. This youngster had very short-term Foresight, the sort of thing that led his friends to ban him from games of chance. His range was no more than a candlemark, and he did not actually see anything so much as get a sense of what would happen given the present conditions. But that made him incredibly useful during battles; he could tell those in command where they could expect to see a push by enemy forces far enough in advance of the actual occurrence to bring forces of their own to meet the opposition.
This of course did not guarantee victory by any means, but at least it helped to prevent defeats.
All ten youngsters had fit themselves in quickly, enabling their mentors to spend most of their time in service, rather than in supervision.
When Jedin was finished, Theran's pointed look prodded Pol to speak.
"Lavan is able to hit specific targets at a distance of twenty furlongs, and I have no reason to think that farther distance is going to make any difference in his ability to burn them. As long as he can see something, he can hit it. He can bring up fire walls to surround troops and hold them for a full candlemark, or move them and hold them for a quarter candlemark. His only limitation is how long he can sustain anger." Pol took a deep breath, and answered the unspoken question in every face. "He's as ready as you want, I think. Only practice is going to make him—more than he is now."
"He isn't going to get the kind of practice he needs on bales of straw," Theran said bluntly. "If his only limitation is sustaining his anger, then to provoke his abilities to the fullest he needs to be on the front lines. The first time he sees what the Karsites are doing to our people—"
Pol dared to raise a hand, cutting the King off. "I respect that you have to think of the larger view, Your Majesty," he replied, feeling slightly sick. "But please remember that this is a boy not yet old enough to be accepted as a volunteer in the Guard."
"I never forget it," Theran said, softening his eagle look a trifle, "but there are plenty of young volunteers his age that are lying about their years and going to the front anyway. I know that we aren't catching more than half of them and sending them home. Under other circumstances, Lavan might have been one of them."
Knowing Lan's former aspirations, Pol could only nod agreement; poor Lan might well have considered volunteering and going to fight the lesser evil, given a choice between the Guard and further torment at the Merchants' School.
"So the only question is, how soon can you go?" Theran asked. "You'll be his mentor, of course."
"Not until his friend Tuck is also ready." Pol seized on that as a delaying tactic. "I want Tuck's help; he needs his friends to keep him steady."
"Hmm. I can see that. We don't want an emotional youngster with that particular Gift feeling friendless." Theran nodded. "Jedin, have a word with the other boy's teachers. Has he any other friends?"
"Pol's daughter," Jedin volunteered. "Young Healer, well in advance of the rest of the Trainees her age. Ready to go into full Greens, from what I hear. Mind-Healer."
"Which we will have need of there, and she can see to it that he stays sane. Good. See if she wants to volunteer as well," Theran decreed.
Pol blanched, but held his peace. There was always the chance that Elenor would not volunteer....
With a chance to follow Lan? You're fooling yourself, old man. He felt even sicker, now. But they'll be protected; they're all too valuable to let anything happen to them—
"They'll be as safe, or safer, than if they were here, Pol," Theran added, with a hint of sympathy. "Lavan Firestarter may be the one person who can turn this war for us. When his Sun-Priests start incinerating, the Son of the Sun may think better of prosecuting this idiocy and pull back behind the Border again."
"Lan is all right burning inanimate objects, but he has serious mental difficulties—" Pol began.
Jedin interrupted him. "I have good reason to think he'll lose those reservations when he actually sees fighting," the King's Own said grimly.
What kind of good reason? Is it that bad out there? Pol wondered. He'd heard vague rumors of things the Karsite Sun-Priests were doing. Were those rumors based in fact?
He didn't get any time to contemplate that; Theran was already going on. "Given that your daughter will be with you, do you still want to have your wife return to Healer's Collegium when you leave?" he asked. "Or would you rather have the three of you together?"
"Let me think about it," he temporized, "and let me see if I can get a message to her. I don't think that I want to make a decision about this without asking her opinion first."
:That may be the wisest thing you've ever said,: Satiran observed.
:Hush.:
"That's a reasonable request," the King agreed. "Jedin, put it on your agenda. We can schedule your departure as soon as we know what your lady thinks."
:Rolan is going to think he's nothing but a messenger service.: This time Satiran was actually snickering. Pol let him; there was little enough these days to be amused about.