Something about his expression made her wary; he had that devilish look he always got when he was keeping a secret, that made his sharp features look even more fox-like. “What happened at the Council meeting?” she continued, as if she hadn’t noticed.
“Mostly the usual, but Breon had some news.” He was much too casual; something was definitely up. Whatever Lord Breon had brought in the way of news was something he knew she’d want to hear.
She decided that two could play that game of feigned indifference. “Oh? Anything important, or can it wait until I get back?” She fooled with the baskets a bit more, taking care not to look directly at him.
“You’ll probably hear it on the way back anyway, since you’re going with Barda and Harrod. We’re getting resident Heralds.” He watched her closely, and she knew from the way he was acting that although this was momentous news, it wasn’t the biggest part of his secret.
“Really?” she exclaimed anyway. “Heralds? As permanent residents? More than one?”
He nodded. “Two of them; an older, experienced Herald-Mage, believe it or not, and his personally selected trainee. Or maybe I should say, protege, since she’s got her Whites, and this is taking the place of her ‘first circuit.’ “
“A Herald-Mage! That’s certainly something!” It was, too; there still weren’t that many Herald-Mages about, and to have one of them assigned permanently to Errold’s Grove said a great deal for how the status of this area had risen. “They must think we’re high on their list of priorities now!”
“But it’s not the biggest news, not for you, anyway. The other Herald is your sister Shandi.” He grinned as her jaw dropped, and she looked at him in disbelief. “No, really, it is! I suppose they figure that they might as well assign her here, since she’s likely to assign herself here, given half a chance. Even without half a chance, she’s likely to turn up anyway.”
“But - it hasn’t been much more than two years - ” She still couldn’t believe it; Shandi had said nothing of this in her letters! She’d only complained now and again of how busy she was and how much she was expected to absorb.
Is that why she hasn’t spent more than four weeks here in the last two and a half years? Because she’s been rushing - or rushed - through her studies?
“Breon said she hadn’t gotten the record for graduating quickly, but she was close. He was fairly impressed.” Darian grinned at her reaction. “Mind you, he shouldn’t have been surprised. Look at how well you’ve done, and you haven’t had a Collegium full of teachers to help you! When I first met you, you would have barely qualified as a Healer trainee, at least as far as your Gift went. Now even the Sanctuary Healers call you their equal.”
“Pfft.” She dismissed her own prowess with a wave of her hand, not the least because she was not nearly as impressed with her “accomplishments” as he seemed to be. “How soon will they be here?”
“Cut your visit to Errold’s Grove as short as you can; I got the impression it’s just a matter of days before they arrive. For now, they’ll be staying at the Vale. We’re going to put on a celebration for them. Oh, the senior one’s name is Anda; I don’t suppose you recognize it, do you?” He tilted his head to the side, curiously.
She thought for a moment. “It sounds vaguely familiar; Shandi must have mentioned him now and again.” She kissed him quickly, then pushed him gently away, and turned back to her baskets, tying them shut deftly. “The sooner I’m gone, the sooner I’ll be back. Don’t work too hard while I’m off; but do try to see that Ayshen doesn’t try to do everything.”
He sighed melodramatically, then bent to help her with her baskets. “You ought to know by now that keeping Ayshen from overwork is beyond my powers. I suppose it’s of no use to ask if you’d like to stop all this, find a replacement, and settle down permanently here with me, is it?” he asked.
“When someone is getting ready for a journey, it’s the wrong time to ask about settling down, Darian.” She told her stomach to stop bouncing, and put on an air of calm. “The answer still hasn’t changed.”
“I didn’t think it had, but a fellow can ask. It’s just that we’re awfully good together. . . .” To her intense relief, he didn’t pursue the subject. She was saved from having to say anything more by the arrival of her dyheli, a young buck this time.
He didn’t ask the question every time she left, but it was at least once a month. Was it only a sense of duty that kept him asking? He couldn’t possibly understand what it meant to be bound to a calling; being a Healer meant being tied into her avocation even more tightly than being wedded.
Without being asked, Darian saddled the dyheli and fastened the baskets on either side of the arm-thick pad seated just over the stag’s rump. She grabbed hold of the handle that was built in place of a saddle-horn, put her foot in a stirrup, and swung herself up into place. Dyheli had no reins to take up; they would never have permitted so undignified a contraption as a halter on their heads.
:Good day, Healer,; the buck said formally :I am Talen.:
:Thank you for your help, Talen,: she replied just as formally. :Are Barda and Harrod ready to return yet?:
:They await us at the Vale entrance. Shall we go?: Talen responded, his thoughts glossed with a skimming of impatience. The bucks were almost always a little impatient; it seemed to go with the gender.
“I heard - go and come back soon, Keisha.” That was all Darian said, but beneath the words was a great deal more that Keisha just didn’t want to have to deal with. Talen felt her assent, and leaped away, keeping her from having to do anything more than wave back over her shoulder.
Within the Vale, the dyheli kept to a fast lope, but as soon as he burst through the tenuous curtain of the Veil and caught up with the other two, he stretched out into a full run. Dyheli often seemed as tireless as Companions; he’d have all of them in Errold’s Grove well before suppertime.
Barda and Harrod hung on grimly; they were used to travel by dyheli-back, but not as accustomed to it as Keisha was. Although she could not (as Heralds were rumored to do) have fallen asleep in Talen’s saddle, she moved easily with her mount.
If only she could have been as easy with her own thoughts.
Firesong k’Treva finished the last of his stretches, moving smoothly and slowly, while his partner Silverfox watched, alert for any sign of strain. Such alertness was as natural for him as breathing, after so many decades of body study. They shared this ritual every morning; Silverfox insisted on it, and Firesong had to admit he’d felt more like his younger self since he’d begun.
Being limber does have its advantages.