Friends ... that was another thing he had never, in his whole life, had before. Not a real friend.
The sounds of hoofbeats leaving the stable let him know that the others were leaving. And he might as well give up trying to sleep anymore. Besides, he needed to get Dallen saddled; Lena was coming for a ride.
He wondered what it was that thrilled her so much about riding Dallen. Without the kind of mindlink that he and Dallen had, it was really not much different from riding a superbly trained horse, and he knew she must have had plenty of opportunity to do that. From everything she had told him about her family, they were at least as well-off as the Pieters were. So what was it? Was it just the mystique of the Companions? Or despite not having Mindspeech, could she still sense something about him that was out of the ordinary?
:Of course she can. I am a magnificent creature. Just ask me.:
Mags had to chuckle at that. :I don’t have to ask you,: he replied. :You’ll be sure and tell me every chance you get:
He was wide awake at this point, and there was no use in trying to drowse anymore. He got up, expecting to find the stable empty of anything but Companions, and nearly ran right into a Herald.
The man scowled at him. He had the tightest shields Mags had ever seen; to Mags’ extra senses he wasn’t even there. Mags stammered an apology, feeling the blood draining from his face.
“What are you doing here, Trainee?” the man barked.
“I ... I live here, sir,” Mags faltered.
“Here? In the stable?” The man stared at him as if he suspected Mags of lying.
“Aye, sir.” Mags waved in the direction of the open door. “There, sir.”
The Herald glanced briefly inside. “Who told you that you could live out here alone?” he replied, not at all mollified by Mags’ answer.
“Herald Caelen, sir.” He tried to will himself smaller. Maybe if he looked insignificant enough, the man would leave him alone.
“And he sent you out here to live alone.” The man was getting red in the face. When Master Cole got red in the face, someone ended up beaten. “Why?”
“There wasn’t enough room in the Collegium, sir.” Dallen stirred restlessly in his loose-box and snorted.
“Without adult supervision.” Now the tone of voice was a growl.
“I gots me Companion, sir,” Mags whispered. “’S Dallen, sir. He’s growed.”
The man sneered. “Oh, surely. Who is your mentor?”
“I don’t ... got one. Sir.” Mags was having a hard time breathing now. “Herald Jakyr, he brung me, but he’s off—”
“Doing something important, no doubt.” Still a growl, but one full of contempt. Mags did not look up to try and read the man’s face. He stared as hard as he could at his toes. “Leaving you here to frolic about without discipline. No doubt you’ve got stolen spirits in there, and you are carrying on with serving wenches all night long!”
Dallen’s hooves drummed angrily on the dirt of the stall floor.
“No, sir,” Mags choked out. “I don’t got no drink in there. An’ nothin’ else neither. I dunno any servin’ wenches.”
But by now, the Herald had warmed to his subject. He reached out and grabbed both Mags’ shoulders and shook them until Mags’ teeth rattled. “Tell me the truth, curse you! I’ll have it out of you if—”
Before the man could finish the sentence, he was suddenly pushed aside abruptly, shouldered into the wall by Dallen, who shoved in between them.
:Go back into your room until I say to come out, Chosen,: Dallen said calmly. :I will deal with this.:
Mags was not at all averse to following Dallen’s orders. In fact, he fled into the safety of his room, and threw the bolt on the door. Then thinking better of that action, he unlocked it almost immediately, wedged himself into the farthest corner of the room, and sat there staring at the door.
Shortly afterward, he heard more voices, speaking too quietly for him to make out what they were saying. The tone was low and urgent—or in the case of the strange Herald, low and angry. Eventually, he heard footsteps going away.
:You can come out now, Mags. They’ve gone.:
Coming out was the last thing that Mags wanted to do right now, but Dallen seemed to expect it of him, and so with great reluctance he picked himself up off the floor and walked over to the door and opened it again. The stables were empty of everything but Dallen and a couple of Companions in far-off stalls, studiously trying to look disinterested.
:That is one of the Heralds who does not like the new Collegium organization,: Dallen said calmly. :I made it known that he had laid hands on you, and the circumstances, and some of his peers came to make him understand that he was quite out of line with his accusations.:
Mags shook his head. He was too shaken to be able to think clearly. He felt as if he had been flung right back into his old life, and it made him sick inside.
:Mags, you just got caught between a man’s anger at what he thinks is a ruinous idea and his inability to convince those who have put that idea in motion. He wasn’t thinking.:
Mags controlled his shaking as he saddled Dallen and heaved himself up into place. :It felt like I was ’bout to get a beatin’. Just like it used t’ be:
Dallen did not say, “Oh, he would never have beaten you,” for which Mags was grateful. The truth was, he would not have put it past that Herald to at least hit him, and Dallen was honest enough to acknowledge that.
Which actually made Mags feel a little better. At least Dallen wasn’t trying to lie to him. That would have made things worse.
:I am sure, absolutely sure, that all the man meant to do was frighten you. He is short-tempered at the best of times, and I do not believe it was in his mind to hurt you. He is not used to someone like you. He is more used to the sort of youngling who would take apart a cart and reassemble it in someone’s room for fun.:
Mags wondered briefly why that would be “fun”, but could not be distracted. “I thought Heralds was supposed t’ look out for each other,” he said plaintively aloud, realizing after a moment that the sick feeling in his stomach was betrayal. Dallen had told him he could trust anyone in Whites.
:Try to understand, Mags. He did not mean to hurt you. He ...: Dallen paused. :He would not thank me for saying this, but the truth is that he, and the Heralds that think like him, are afraid.:
:Afraid!: Mags could scarcely believe that, and his surprise brought Dallen to a complete halt. :Afraid! I can’t hardly b’lieve that! Afraid of what?:
:Change.: Dallen’s flanks under his legs heaved in a huge sigh. :This is an enormous change in how Trainees are turned into Heralds. They are used to seeing four or five new Trainees come in over the course of a year—suddenly there are more than sixty of you, counting the ones out with mentors. It is an enormous change, and the challenge is that it is not possible for every Herald to personally know every other Herald now. And it never will be again. In his heart, he knows that he never will be able to say “I know Herald So-and-so is trustworthy because he is my personal friend.” Now he will have to take it on faith because he is another Herald. This changes everything, and the only way he thinks he can be absolutely sure that these new Trainees will be as good as he and his friends are, is to insist that they be under the eyes of himself or one of his friends during their training period.: Dallen started up again at a walk, and Mags scented snow in the air. :He doesn’t have Mindspeech. He can’t talk to his Companion. And he doesn’t much like people your age.: