"No fear of that," Tarma replied. "That girl can't wait to get out on the Plains. If her mother would let her, she'd be fostered out at Liha'irden this moment." She was pleased, though, with the implied compliment. "What brings you two out here again, anyway?"
"The usual," Beaker told her laconically. "Still looking for someplace to settle down. Trouble is, nobody in this part of the world needs horsetalkers all year 'round. We're getting a bit long in the tooth for the road life." He looked at her hopefully. "Don't suppose you've heard of anything?"
"Not yet, but -- why don't you stick around for a fortnight or so?" she told them. "Maybe something will come up."
"I'd as soon sleep in one of your beds as the floor of an inn," Beaker replied with gratitude. "Thanks."
"No worries," Tarma told him, "You've stayed here often enough; put your mares up, get your gear and find a room, and I'll see you at dinner. Keth'll be glad to see you."
As the two Sunhawks (former Sunhawks, she reminded herself) disappeared through the stable door to get their gear, Tarma turned to leave through the outer door. "Coming, Furface?" she asked over her shoulder, as Warrl's great bulk uncoiled from behind the fence.
:I wouldn't miss this for the world,: Warrl replied smugly.
Tarma cast him a look of suspicion. Just what did he know about the visitor?
But the kyree wasn't talking, so the only way for her to find out what was going on was to get up to the manor.
She found Jadrek and Kethry in the solar, entertaining an ordinary-looking fellow with brown hair, a neatly-trimmed brown beard, and a charming, open face. But it was his clothing that immediately explained the reason for Warrl's amusement. He was dressed in scarlet from his collar to his boots, and there was only one thing that could mean.
Oh, gods, she groaned, as Warrl chuckled unmercifully in her head. Not another bard!
"Tarma! Just the person we needed!" Jadrek said genially, before Tarma could duck out of sight and hide. "Please join us!"
She sighed, and schooled her face to a pleasant -- or at least neutral -- expression as she entered the warm, firelit solar. "I really shouldn't," she began. "I've just been in the stables, I smell like horse-"
"But that's precisely why I'm here," the stranger exclaimed, turning toward her eagerly. "Horses! A very dear friend of mine and a very important noble of the Valdemar Court is suffering from a rather extreme set of problems with his horses-"
"And you came here?" Tarma allowed one eyebrow to rise quizzically as she chose a sturdy chair and flung herself into it. "Why on earth did a Bard of Valdemar come here for help with horses?"
"Because Roald sent him to Stefansen, and Stef sent him here, of course," Kethry replied, a twinkle in her green eyes. She twined a tendril of hair as golden as her daughter's around one finger in an absentminded gesture Tarma knew meant she was highly amused.
"Ah." Tarma let the eyebrow drop again. "Roald" was King Roald of Valdemar, who was Stefanson's friend and had been since the days when they were merely Prince Stefansen and Herald Roald. Jadrek had been Archivist to Stef's father, and he and Tarma and Keth had helped put Stef on the throne of Rethwellan after his brother usurped it, tried to murder him, and succeeded in murdering their sister. She in turn had been Captain Idra, leader of the Mercenary Guild Company Idra's Sunhawks -- which had employed Tarma as Scoutleader and Kethry as Company Mage. It sometimes made Tarma's head spin, what with being a Shin'a'in Swordsworn and simple trainer of would-be warriors on one hand, and on a first-name basis with the Kings of two countries on the other.
"Well," she said, leaning over to help herself to food and drink with a long arm. "You're a bard, you ought to know how to tell a tale in a straightforward manner, so why don't you start from the beginning and explain the situation to this poor bewildered barbarian?"
Nothing loath, the young man launched into his story. Tarma had a difficult time keeping her face straight when he related the fable of the Gray Stud being a Shin'a'in warsteed. Nothing was more unlikely, and she said so.
"I can promise you that we haven't lost a stud off the Plains in our entire history," she told him. "And it's damned unlikely that your friend's ancestors even got an accidental halfbreed. Battlemares are perfectly capable of keeping an unwanted male at bay, and even if one had the poor taste to mate with something other than another warsteed, I can guarantee you she'd be back on the Plains as soon as her rider knew she was pregnant. We simply don't let the bloodline out of our hands."
Bard Lauren shrugged. "I'll admit that the story sounded odd to me," he admitted, "but it's one of those family legends that no one contradicts." His face fell a little. "I came here in hope that since the problem stems from that bloodline, you'd know how to deal with it," he concluded in resignation. "And since the bloodline isn't what I was told, I won't waste any more of your time-"
"Whoa up, there!" Tarma exclaimed. "I didn't say I couldn't help you. As a matter of fact, I'm fairly certain I can."
:Just what are you up to?: Warrl asked with alarm.
With no students to train, I was afraid I was going to be bored waiting for the summer trek, she thought gleefully. This will be a marvelous way to do a little traveling. I'll ask my Hawkbrother friend to magic us up to the north and back, and it won't take any time at all.
:You wouldn't!: Warrl said in horror. He hated the Gates, though he and Tarma had only needed to use them once before, when the Hawkbrother mage she and Kethry had rescued had asked for some assistance in tracking a weird Pelagir beast and bringing it to bay.
Tarma chuckled under her breath.
The Bard's face lit up as brightly as the sun at high summer. "You can?" he exclaimed.
A plan was rapidly forming in her mind, and she turned to Kethry. "You won't need me back here until the trek to the Plains for the summer, will you?" she asked.
Kethry shook her head. "Not that I can imagine -- and until then, the rains should keep the childrens' mayhem to a minimum."
"Good! Try and keep them out of the village, will you? They'll probably all try and do something to match Jadrie's new horse if you don't. I've got a notion to see how our old friend Roald is doing, and a run will do Warrl a world of good." She smiled maliciously as Warrl made a sound of inarticulate protest. "I hope you haven't unpacked your things, Bard Lauren; we'll have to leave in the morning if we want to get to your Forst Reach by spring plowing."
The Bard placed one hand over his heart and bowed to her formally. "Swordlady, a Bard can always be on the road at a moment's notice -- and if you can solve Lord Kemoc's problem, I will be eternally grateful and at your service for as long as you please."
She chuckled. "Save your gallantries, my friend, and prepare for a hard ride."