Disclaimer: Still not mine. Woecakes.

Notes: Update, yay?

Chapter Seventeen

Conversations are had – History like salt – Clothing (optional) – Once more into the breach!

Although the position of Queen’s Own Herald wasn’t exactly a low-stress career, Gillan nevertheless enjoyed it. Mostly. There were days—usually involving pranks perpetrated at, by or to any of the trainees of the four Collegia—when he wished devoutly for a more normal life. One where the most complicated thing he was likely to have to face for long periods of time was taking cover in a Waystation while out on Circuit in the depths of winter, or sorting out the creative book keeping of local merchants, or, frequently, determining just who owned the brown and white cow.

Still: that wasn’t his life, and it hadn’t been for a very long time. Gillan gave himself a moment to sigh and brush away old regrets before focusing on his surroundings.

“You’re quite sure?”

Herald-Mage Kira, the Dean of the Mage’s Collegium, nodded and huffed out a sigh of her own. “No-one is willing to cut the party numbers down at all and, to be quite frank, I’d be standing right behind whoever was protesting; everyone in the group is going to be needed.”

“Except for the fact that we’re one mount short.”

“Yes.”

“Yaul is positive that no more of the dyheli would volunteer?”

“It’s not that simple.”

Gillan rubbed at his face with one hand and cast his eyes up to the slightly cobwebby ceiling beams in his office. “Of course it’s not.”

Kira made a sound that could equally have been a snort of amusement or exasperation. “The dyheli that are acting as mounts are also the ones with some experience with hunting change-creatures and, well, everyone else either has a Companion or four feet of their own. Except for Shadowflame.”

Gillan scowled at the ceiling, then at the cluttered piles of books and papers that Dadero claimed concealed Gillan’s desk. “It would be her.”

“She’s one of the most accomplished Adept Mages in Haven,” Kira pointed out relentlessly. “And she’s got years of experience of dealing with dark magic.”

“She’s also got a temper you could shave rocks with,” Gillan pointed out, ignoring the amused, :And that’s on a good day.: that Dadero saw fit to insert. “And trying to put her dyheli-back for longer than a few steps is a sure recipe for someone to lose something vital.”

A sigh of agreement from Kira. “Her leg does complicate matters. Unfortunately, Tarii’s carry-basket was ruined by—well.” Kira waved her hands.

Gillan could entirely understand her inability to find the words to describe the sheer volume of mess that could be perpetrated by a pack of Blues with a desire for experimentation and an inability to not spill large barrels of acid all over the store room they were using as a laboratory. Thankfully, none of them had been seriously injured, but Gillan was entirely sure that the younglings in question had wished to be unconscious in the House of Healing when Tarii had found out what had happened and had words to say. At length, and with resort to volumes the like of which Gillan hadn’t thought possible to be the product of a single creature. The gryphon, he’d found out later, had been heard clear over the far side of the Palace.

:I’m fairly sure that they heard her down in the Flower Market. Gryphons certainly have an impressive lung capacity.:

:Dadero,: Gillan admonished wearily. :This is no time for frivolity.:

:My, my, we certainly are negative today. If you and Kira would come out to the Field, I believe that we have a solution for you.:

From Kira’s slightly vacant expression, Gillan gathered that her Fedarrin was giving her similar instructions. She blinked and produced a wry smile. “Looks like we’re being given our marching orders.”

“I suppose that we’d better go and see what they want,” Gillan agreed. “I hope it won’t take long, Halla and I have the full Council to placate at noon.” The elder Herald stepped around the younger mage and pulled his office door open, gesturing for her to walk through it first. Once they were walking down the corridor, taking the quickest route to Companion’s Field, Kira cast a quizzical look in Gillan’s direction.

“What particular cat are those stuffy old pigeons getting into a flap about now?”

“Haldebor’s just about convinced the rest of the southern nobles that the Lord Marshall should be leading a general mobilisation down to the Comb.”

“You can’t be serious.” Kira looked appalled. “Why hasn’t someone shut that man up in a room where he can’t cause damage to anyone except for himself? Doesn’t he realise what parking the army on Rethwellan’s doorstep would do to the Alliance?”

“The problem is that he isn’t thinking, at least not clearly.” Gillan pursed his lips and waited until a gaggle of chattering Bardic and Healer trainees had clattered past them before continuing. “His duchy is snug up against the border, right where this...whatever it is...is happening. He doesn’t want an evil mage targeting his people.”

“His pocket, more like,” Kira muttered darkly, before holding up one hand. “I know, I know. That’s just my opinion.”

“Quite.” Gillan stepped through the exterior door that Kira pulled open. “Regardless of the cause, Halla still has to untangle the knots that the Council is determined to tie itself in, and it has to be done before someone does something daft.”

“Like put together a ragtag group of mages and Heralds and fling them in the direction of the Comb?” Kira asked in a too-innocent tone.

Gillan favoured her with a look before setting his sights on the fence line of the Field, which lay a short distance away, on the far side of an ornamental garden. Quickly, he and the Dean crunched their way along the neatly gravelled path way and passed through the overly ornamental gateway that punctured the fence. They had only made it a short distance into the Field before Dadero and Fedarrin appeared from the cover of a small stand of birch trees and cantered towards them.

Gillan accepted Dadero’s affectionate nose nudge to his shoulder and ran his fingers through the Companion’s mane.

“So what’s the unspeakably brilliant plan that you pair have concocted?” Kira asked. “Or, rather; who have you conned into carting Shadowflame around? I can’t think of any of the Unbonded Companions who’ve been in enough trouble to warrant that much of a punishment.”

Dadero and Fedarrin both snorted.

:We have not conned anyone into anything,: Dadero informed Gillan. :Although Kira is right about our idea. A Companion is the only possible mount that can both keep up with the rest of the party and bear Shadowflame with the minimum of discomfort for all involved.:

Given Kira’s expression, Gillan was willing to bet that her own Companion’s summation was rather pithier.

“Well, who did you have in mind?” Gillan asked. “I can only think of five Unbonded Companions who are old enough and strong enough to bear a rider under adverse conditions, and I thought that you had mentioned that all of them were showing signs of their Call?”

:That is true,: Dadero sighed. :However, there is little alternative.:

Kira glanced back and forth as Fedarrin relayed Dadero’s words to her. Her expression curled into a faint frown. “But what if whoever it is starts to feel their Call? They’ll be stranded in the back of beyond—unless their Chosen is down in the south already?”

:No one has any definite idea of a direction as of yet, although Larin is having glimpses of the area around Lake Evendim.:

Fedarrin nodded his head in agreement.

Gillan sighed. “It hardly seems fair to deprive a potential Chosen of their Companion in this way—”

:I will go.:

Gillan started violently at the unexpected Mindvoice, aware that both Kira and the two Companions were similarly surprised, although not to the extent that he was. That voice—it was one that he still dreamed about, but hadn’t heard for over three and a half decades. He whirled around and found himself staring at the dusty Companion who was standing a short distance away from them, carefully not focusing her gaze on anyone in particular.

:Datti?: Dadero asked uneasily. :Are you sure?:

:I will go,: the mare repeated. :I am more than capable of both keeping up with dyheli and dealing with the verbal battle that counts as conversation with Adept Shadowflame.:

“Datti, I—” Gillan wasn’t even sure what he was going to say: Dadero was his Companion, had always really been his Companion, but Datti—she’d been there first. She’d been the one to find him and nurture him and be with him for sixteen years and now—she hated him.

:I will go.: Datti half closed her eyes and drew her head up high. :The possibility of a Call will not, after all, be an issue for me.:

Gillan gulped and instinctively leaned into Dadero’s comforting weight, even though part of him wanted to walk forwards and hug Datti like they were still friends. Out of the corner of one eye, Gillan noticed that Fedarrin had edged himself so that he was ever-so-slightly in between his Chosen and the other Companion. Datti seemed to elicit pretty much the same ice-water-down-spine in all of the few people that she interacted with.

:If you are sure.: Dadero tilted his head slightly to one side.

Datti didn’t bow her head at all. If anything, for the first time, she actually fixed her attention on one particular thing, matching Dadero stare for stare.

:Of course I am sure, Groveborn. The mages are planning to build the Gate tomorrow morning at three marks past dawn, yes? Inform Adept Shadowflame that I will arrive at the ekele two marks prior to that, although I do not expected that she will pack a great amount.: Without waiting for a reply, Datti turned sharply on her heels and loped off into the depths of the Field, leaving Gillan and Kira to stare wordlessly at each other.

-----

:I do have to carry all this, remember?:

Michael glanced up from the mess of clothes and saddlebags that was taking up most of his bed. Giff had hung his head through the open window and was watching him with an expression of trepidation.

:And you, of course. I mean, I get that you probably want things stacked up around you to keep you secure, but—:

“Are you implying that I can’t ride?” Despite the accusatory tone, there was no real heat in Michael’s voice. There couldn’t be. It was true: there were probably mentally retarded items of fruit that were better at horsemanship than he was.

:He’s not implying anything, the bruises that both of your are covered in tell their tale perfectly adequately. Oh, this will absolutely not do.: Michael found himself nudged out the way as Hirrn performed her usual trick of marching into any given room and taking it over. The kyree began to paw through his belongings as Michael looked on helplessly.

“Look, it’s not like I even used to go camping as a kid. My grandparents didn’t own a farm, my family didn’t rent a cabin out in the sticks for summer. I’m used to cities.”

:The mages are Gating us right to the border, it’s not like we’re going on a Circuit.: Giff flattened his ears as Michael glared at him.

“Remind me of the B-movie mode of transportation again, why don’t you.”

:Now, now, boys.: Hirrn produced the kind of yawning growl that Michael was learning passed for a tutting sound. :Michael, this is nothing short of a disaster. I want you to sort everything into piles and empty the bags. I’m going to get Goldleaf to pack for you. If anyone other than a Circuit Herald knows how to pack light, it’s a Silver partnered with a gryphon.:

Giff shuddered. :Those carry-basket things give me the heebie-jeebies,: he said. :I’m sure that nothing without wings is meant to go that high up.:

“Remind me never to explain airplanes to you.”

:Tarii is not taking her basket, it is still being repaired. One of the dyheli has kindly volunteered to carry both her and my supplies, such as they are.:

“You have supplies?” Michael asked curiously, clearing a small patch of bed so that he could sit down.

:Primarily Healing and first aid. Tarii has some grooming equipment, and extra fighting gear. Just in case something breaks, she says. Bloodthirsty creature.: Hirrn shook her head. :You’ll see what I mean tomorrow.:

Michael noticed that Giff was rolling his eyes. “How many people are going?” he asked, before Hirrn could also notice.

:You, me, Tarii, Goldleaf, one of the k’Verei mages, two Herald-Mages, the Companions and four dyheli.: Hirrn paused for a moment. :And Shadowflame.:

:Oh, great.: Giff’s ears flattened against his skull. :What’s the plan? To stand well back and let her beat the monsters unconscious with her stick?:

Michael stifled a snort of laughter, even if an impression of the Tayledras Adept, dressed like a ren-faire warrior reject, flailing around with her walking stick flashed into the front of his mind. Giff, Michael was beginning to discover (now that their relationship had progressed beyond arguments and injury), had a wicked sense of humour.

:As I am sure that you are aware, Shadowflame is one of the most powerful and experienced Adept mages in the Alliance countries.: Hirrn fixed Giff with a look. :And she would have no compunction about rapping you over your overly smart nose, either.:

Giff deflated, and Michael felt moved to defend him. “Hey, now. I thought that I was the only one allowed to bruise Giff’s nose?” As he spoke, Michael scooted backwards across the bed, so that he was sitting underneath the window, and hitched one shoulder up to bump Giff under the chin.

:Abusive relationships are unhealthy,: Giff said, but a faintly pleased feeling accompanied his words, and he lowered his head so that he and Michael were touching. Michael let one hand steal upwards so that he could scratch at the side of Giff’s neck, eliciting a sigh of contentment.

:Hmmm.: Hirrn produced an inscrutable look before shaking herself all over. :Michael, I am going to check on the Healing supplies and to find Goldleaf to help you with packing. Giff, I will see you outside Mage’s Collegium tomorrow.:

:Three marks after dawn, I remember.:

If Hirrn had anything more to say to the Companion, Michael certainly didn’t hear it, but the way that Giff twitched, nose bumping his cheek, and Hirrn wrinkled her nose just before disappearing out of the door to the corridor was certainly suspicious.

After a moment of leaning back against the wall, vaguely aware of both the sound of his and Giff’s breathing, and the fact that the sharp thing jabbing him the thigh was probably a belt buckle, Michael thought of a question he’d not had a chance to ask earlier. “Hey.”

:Yes?:

“Everyone—I mean, the human everyone—who’s coming is going to have to ride, yes?”

:Yes. On Companions or dyheli; they can almost keep up with us. One of them will be acting as a kind of pack carrier and will have Hirrn’s supplies and probably a carry pad for her if we really need some speed. Kyree are not particularly good at high-speed endurance.:

“So...Shadowflame’s going to have to ride a dyheli, then? I mean, I know I’m not one of your fancy Healers, but I can see that she’s got some serious muscle damage to that leg of hers. Trying to ride something as bony as a dyheli is going to be painful.”

Michael’s shirt ruffled as Giff whuffed out a breath. :Not just bony; dyheli don’t as much gallop as, well, bound. Oh dear. Shadowflame will not enjoy that in the slightest.:

“D’you think anyone’s thought of this?” Michael asked. “Or told her?”

:Are you volunteering?:

“God, no!” Michael shuddered and poked Giff in the side of the neck with one finger. “I don’t have a death wish or the desire for a walking stick related concussion. I wonder who they’ll get to tell her."

:Probably Tarii. She has the advantage of being a predator three times the size of Shadowflame.: Giff paused for a moment, considering. :Plus, she can fly away, and even though Ayren is big, he’s not stupid enough to go beak to beak with a gryphon.:

“Ayren?” Michael twisted his head sideways to look at Giff.

:Her bondbird. He’s an eagle and—well. Let’s just say that the pair of them are matched for temperament.:

Michael groaned and closed his eyes. “You know, I’m having serious second thoughts about this little trip.”

:Me too, Chosen. Me too.:

-----

Out of the entire group assembled in front of Mage’s Collegium Datti, Giff noticed, was the only one who wasn’t being jostled around.

Of course, noticing the distinct patch of clear space around the mare immediately led Giff on to wondering just why Datti was there. The Companion was forced to side-step to the left to avoid being trampled by Tarii, who strode past him, wings mantling, as she argued loudly in Kaled’a’in with Goldleaf. The slightly different vantage point revealed the next startling thing about Datti: although, like him, she wasn’t wearing a hackamore, those darker patches on her back weren’t some strange shadows caused by the angle of the sun and the riotous climbing vines that adorned the front of the Collegium. They were a saddle and packs.

“Hey,” Michael whispered as he slipped up to huddle next to Giff’s neck. Giff raised his head up so that his Chosen could take advantage of the meagre shelter, and winced slightly as one of the hertasi decided—for about the seventh time—that the packs attached to his saddle needed rearranging.

“Is that Datti? What’s she doing here?”

:It appears that she’s going with us?: Giff blew out a confused sigh. :I’m not entirely sure.:

Any further speculation was cut short by the stamp-scrape arrival of Shadowflame, who limped up to Datti, blithely ignoring any and all people in the way, on the apparent basis that they would make way for her. Which they did; Shadowflame’s walking stick was, after all, legendary. The Tayledras mage fixed Datti’s saddle with a sour look.

“Well, isn’t that just going to be fun to get in and out of. Could you be any taller?”

:I’ll ride you, then.:

Giff tensed and wondered who’d chase after him if he ran away. An argument between two of the foulest tempered people in Haven was not something that he even wanted to observe from a distance.

Shadowflame’s sharp bark of laughter was therefore a total shock, and Giff was pleased to note that he wasn’t the only one to jump.

“Well, at least you’re not going to shove the sanctimonious white horse act down my throat.”

:And at least you’re not going to shove the tree-hugging hippy-dippy lunatic act down my throat. Thank Havens for small mercies.:

Shadowflame laughed again and moved off to harangue two hertasi who were fussing around after the mages who would be Gating them down to the border.

“So,” Michael stepped sideways so that Giff could see him gesturing at the bustle. “Who’s, um, going with us?”

:Oh, ah, Shadowflame and Datti—:

“Well, duh.”

:—um. Herald-Mages Yaska and Venni. They are the ones in Whites, over by the Gate terminus. Their Companions are Velaryn and Kit. The Tayledras lady with them—the one in green with the white bird on her shoulder—that’s Adept Rainfox k’Verei. I don’t know what her bird is called.:

“What about Shadowflame’s bird, Ayren, wasn’t it?”

Giff blew out a breath, ruffling Michael’s hair and used his nose to point in the direction of the roof of the main Collegium building. :He’s probably up there somewhere. He doesn’t like crowds of people and—well—he’s big. Even if her leg was well, Shadowflame would not be able to walk around with him perched on her shoulder, like most of the other Tayledras do.:

“Huh.”

Not sure what that meant, Giff decided to finish naming their party. :The dyheli are called Hath, Dinda, Melli and Jadin. Melli is the white one—she’s a mage Channel, so I guess she’ll be paired up with Rainfox. I’m just thankful that Yaul isn’t coming. Having him and Hirrn in close proximity to each other would be scary.:

“What, like Datti and Shadowflame?” Michael snuffed out something that might have been a laugh. “They looked like they were going to get on with each other.”

:Chosen, I know for a fact that you have witnessed what Hirrn and Yaul are like with each other. That is them being civil, under non-stressful conditions. Tarii could probably tell you a solid month’s worth of horror stories about what happens if either of them is in a truly bad mood.: Giff shuddered all over. :It doesn’t bear thinking about.: He was irrationally pleased when Michael looped one arm over his neck.

Movement at the edge of his vision made Giff turn his head. A smallish party of mixed people and Companion was approaching them. As they got closer, Giff could see they were being led by the Queen, Gillan—followed by Dadero—on one side and her Companion on the other.

:Um,: Giff managed in open Mindspeech, drawing the attention of Kit and Velaryn, and subsequently everyone else outside of the approaching group.

The Queen continued forwards until she was standing a short distance from them. Giff resisted the urge to sidle behind Michael as Halla’s Companion, Regin, gave him an unreadable look.

“We have come to wish you well,” Halla said gravely, indicating the people gathered behind her. Giff could identify the members of the Privy Council, as well as the Deans of Heraldic and Bardic Collegia. There were probably more, but he didn’t want to stare and risk getting himself noticed.

“Most of you probably know that I’m not one for big speeches,” Halla continued. “And a lofty speech would not be appropriate for the circumstances. Just know that our thoughts and wishes are with you all, and that we plan on welcoming you all back to Haven when this is over.”

The Queen looked around, making sure that she caught and held the gaze of every single member of the party. Feeling somewhat unsteady (although how much of that was originating from Michael, he really couldn’t tell) Giff lowered his head respectfully.

“We are ready to cast the Gate.” One of the flamboyantly dressed Tayledras mage-teachers, who Giff knew by sight only, gestured towards the white marble archway that was set in a circle of gravel in front of the Collegium.

“Very well,” Venni said as she strode forwards. “Mount up. Everybody be ready to go as soon as the Gate is stable, understand?”

Giff firmed his stance as Michael clumsily gained the saddle. Datti, he noticed out of the corner of one eye, had sidled over to a low, sloped, wall, so that Shadowflame could use it as a mounting block.

Giff shifted his weight nervously as the group arranged themselves into the agreed crossing order: Tarii and Hirrn first, followed by Rainfox, Goldleaf and the two Herald-Mages, and then finally himself and the dyheli.

The air began to hum with power, making Giff squint as the Tayledras mage in front of the Gate raised his hands high. As he sliced them down sharply, the Gate flashed into existence.

“Go!” Venni shouted.

Giff caught a brief glimpse of greenery and bright white before Tarii was plunging through the opening, wings half spread. Gritting his teeth, aware that Michael was clinging onto his mane for all that he was worth, Giff put his head down and plunged forwards into the unknown.