Magic's Promise

Startled, the Herald nodded.

“Fine, I hereby appoint you Tashir's mentor, to stay with him and teach him until you feel he's ready for Whites. You can serve double duty that way; mentor and envoy. Now - Tashir, would you be willing to take the ruling seat if we arranged for you to make the two lands a vassal-state? That means you are holding the lands of Randale, and it would make them part of Valdemar.''

Tashir considered that for a moment, his face sober. “D-does it have to be - do I have to be a King? I don't want to be a King. It's pretty stupid, anyway, to be a King of something you can ride across in a few days.”

“Provided you can get your people to agree, I can't see what difference it makes.”

“Then I'll be a Baron,” Tashir replied, sitting up very straight. “Lord-Baron of the March of Lineas-Baires. If there aren't any straight-line heirs, it all goes back to Valdemar.''

Vanyel sighed his relief. If Tashir hadn't been willing to take the damned power seat - civil wars were not what Valdemar needed on the Border.

“Now, when there's a ruler as young as you, he usually has a Council of older people to advise him - ”

“There isn't one,” Tashir interrupted. “Father had one, but they all died.”

“True. Have you any objections to my appointing you one?”

Tashir shook his head, and Vanyel plowed on before anyone could stop him. “First Councilor and Chamberlain, Herald Lores. Second Councilor and Seneschal, Kaster Ashkevron. He's Meke's right hand, Father, and he's Meke's accountant. Any objections so far?”

Withen snapped his mouth shut on whatever he was going to say, and shook his head.

“Right. Third Councilor, have somebody sent over from your local temple - pick a scholar. Fourth Councilor, the current Chief Elder of Highjorune. Fifth Councilor - huh. You'll need a Marshal, a good military advisor, I would think. Jervis.”

“Huh?” Jervis responded, “I what?”

“He'll be very good,” Vanyel continued before he could object, “and Radevel is certainly capable of taking over here as armsmaster. And since you're a bachelor, you'll need a Castelaine - otherwise you're never going to have cooked meals or clean shirts.” He went blank for a moment-until his eyes fell on Mele

“ 'Le

She jumped.

“Think you'd be able to keep Tashir in roasts, herbs, and clean linen?”

“Me?” she squeaked. “Me? Castelaine?”

“Of course, there's a catch.” Vanyel was begi

“But - but I - but I don't know a thing about - ”

“B-beanshucks,” Withen rumbled, changing his epithet in mid-syllable. “You've been doing Castelaine duty here for years. Treesa'll have vapors, of course.”

Savil interrupted him. “Let her have vapors. If she doesn't want to mind Forst Reach, let Meke's lady deal with it. I know young Roshya. She's a bright little thing, and I know she's been properly trained. That's one of your worst problems here, Withen - too many trained hands and not enough jobs for them.”

Mele

“I think you'll do just fine. Now - does that solve all the problems?”

Because I'm about to run out of brilliant ideas, energy, and the ability to hold off pain.

“I think so,” Savil replied. “I think we can start off by collecting Kaster and showing Tashir something of what he'll be dealing with.”

“You won't need me, will you?” Jervis asked suddenly.

''Probably not - at least not for a while.''

“Then I need a word or two with young Van here. Could you send to fetch me when you need me?”

Savil raised one eyebrow, but nodded.

The mob left, and Vanyel sagged as Jervis put a pitcher down on the table before him.

“Gods. That was a hell of a way to spend my first day out of bed.” He cast a wistful glance at the pitcher. “I don't suppose that's wine, is it?” The Healer, used to fighters, who would use the infirmary as a good place to hold an impromptu party, had forbidden him wine. He was getting very tired of cider.

Besides, the drugs the Healer had given him were too strong. He wasn't taking them except to sleep, and the pain-dulling effects of alcohol would have been welcome.

“Well-cider,” Jervis said slyly, “and help.” He reached inside his jerkin and held up a little bottle of apple brandy. “Couldn't get wine past that snoop, but I could this. Figured you could use it. Little bird told me you probably weren't taking those pills.”

He poured a generous dollop of brandy into each mug before adding the cider; Vanyel accepted his gratefully. “What little bird?”

“One name of Lissa. I've been playin' her eyes an' ears over here.”

“She could be right,” he admitted. “She knows I hate to be muddle-headed these days.”

Jervis grimaced. “Anybody been on front-lines hates t' be muddle-headed. Wish them Healers'd figure that out.”

“Have you heard anything out of Highjorune? Like about the palace, and the heart-stone?”

“Buried, and go

“Why? Don't you?”

Jervis chewed his lip. “I du

“I think you'd make a good Marshal,” Vanyel replied honestly. “You've certainly proved that you aren't too old to change.”

Jervis snorted. “You say that after I nearly ruined your life for you?”

“But you saved it,” Vanyel pointed out. “If you hadn't been there, I would either have let the palace bury me, or I'd have gone down under Leren's knife. I'd have been dead before anyone found me. I think we're even.”

“Huh.” They drank in silence for a moment. The pain of Vanyel's wound seemed a bit eased.

“About Leren - you heard anything yet?”

Vanyel shook his head. “I was hoping you'd get around to him. I have some information for you, since you're relaying to Liss. Leren was mage-controlled.”

Jervis swore under his breath. “So he was tryin' t' take us both out a purpose. If he hadn't gotten distracted - ”

“Exactly - and I'm the one that distracted him for you; there was - I felt something about him, but it got away from me.”

Jervis shook his head. “Damn. We found out he was planted on us by the Mavelans. And now the priests of Astera are sending 'finders' into every damn temple along the Border here, to see how many more there are like him. Seems the Mavelans bought themselves a temple-school. The High Prelate is not what you'd call pleased. But I guess Leren's even twistier than we thought?''

Vanyel nodded. “I told Savil this morning and she relayed it to Haven, but Liss might as well get it from you. He may have been serving the Mavelans, but he was serving somebody else, too. And I don't know who or what. It was no power I recognized.''

“And you won't ever find it from him. Liss couldn't get it out of him, and whoever it was killed him before she could turn him over to Heralds.”

Vanyel swore creatively and descriptively in Tayledras. “Savil didn't tell me that.”

Jervis grimaced.  “She didn't know.  Liss'  sergeant found him dead in his cell just this mornin', guts torn out, and nobody next or nigh him since they'd brought him di

“Magic.”

“Seems so.”

Vanyel pondered for a moment. “Did you ever find out why he tried to kill me?”