Valdemar 11 - [Owl Mage 02] - Owlsight Page 34

  Lord Breon frowned, but agreed grudgingly. “I don’t think you realize how much work everyone has in growing season, though,” he grumbled. “This is going to leave my farmers and small-holders mightily short-handed.”

  Darian saw Kero and Eldan exchange another look, and Eldan’s slight shrug. “I think your farmers and small-holders will be grateful that their families are somewhere safe, my lord,” Eldan soothed. “And if you are worried about the harvest, perhaps some of our fighters could pitch in to help. They won’t be doing anything here but drill, and some of them might appreciate the change of pace.”

  Darian thought of something that might be an incentive. “There must be twenty pretty girls in that village with no husband-prospects, and there’s a perfectly good inn there as well.”

  Kero grinned and winked at him.

  “There, you see?” Eldan spread his hands. “We’ll take our volunteers from those who grew up farming. At that rate, you can even have the mothers with young children as well as those with babies evacuate. In the event that the whole village needs to be cleared out, we’ll have a rearguard in place to hold the road behind!”

  Lord Breon sighed heavily. “All right. It’s a damned good idea, and I’ve no doubt m‘lady can keep the whole lot of ’em busy helping with wedding froufraraw.”

  “Kelvren, can you fly a long sortie tomorrow?” Kero asked, as if struck with a sudden thought. “I’d like you to see if there’s any pattern to the barbarians’ migration.”

  Kelvren slapped his foreclaw to his chest in what Darian thought must be a salute. “Cerrrtainly.”

  “Right.” She looked around the table. “Can anybody think of anything else for now?”

  “Only that we should make this meeting a daily one,” Snowfire said, and smiled apologetically at Lord Breon. “Sorry, my lord, but unless you prefer to let us deal with this without your opinions or wishes, your lady will have to do without you for a while.”

  “My lady told me to pack my bags,” Lord Breon replied and grinned. “She reckoned Val and I were in for an extended stay. Gods forbid that fighting comes that far, but she can command my personal troops as well as I can, and as for setting up for refugees and a siege—she’s as good or better than I am. That’s one reason why I wed her in the first place.” Val looked startled, as his father bowed to Starfall and Snowfire. “ ’Fraid I’m going to have to beg quarters from you, gentlemen, and camp-space for my men.”

  Keisha felt as if she had somehow fallen into someone else’s life. Here she had gone along for years, with nothing more serious than sick sheep and broken bones to take care of, and nothing more worrisome than trying to work her way through those damned indecipherable texts....

  And now?

  She was living in a Hawkbrother Vale, taking lessons from one of the most famous mages in the world—well, in Valdemar, anyway—learning how to do things that weren’t even in those texts. And if that wasn’t enough, now there was an army in residence, with no less than three full Healers and six apprentices, all perfectly willing to give her extra lessons and advice if she thought she needed it. She had seen more new people at once in the last few days than all of the people she’d ever seen in her life added together.

  “Not that you really need much advice,” observed Gentian Arbelo, the most senior of the three. He was also the oldest, bald as an egg, and the thinnest healthy man Keisha had ever seen. “You have all the basic herb-knowledge so solidly there’s no point in questioning it, and you could teach us a few things about the local cures. As for using your Gift—” he shrugged. “It’s more a matter of practice and getting comfortable with it than needing any advice or lessons. Still, if you want to sit in when any of us work, we’ll be happy to link minds with you so that you can see exactly how we do things.”

  “Please,” Keisha responded immediately, hoping she didn’t sound as desperate as she felt. “Please. I need experience, and I’m horribly afraid I won’t have much time to get it.”

  “There is that,” agreed Nala Karcinamen, the junior Healer. “If there’s fighting, well, we’re going to wish we had double our number.”

  The middle, a robust and cheerful man, of middling height, brown hair, eyes, and beard, who called himself Grenthan Miles, made a face. “Piff! This is Captain Kero we’re talking about! If there’s a way to get this settled without crossed swords, she’ll find it, her and Eldan both. Meanwhile, this is an army, they’re always beating on one another, and that means bruises and cuts. Likely, there’ll be at least one serious fight with a broken bone if we sit about for more than a fortnight. We’ll have hangovers, upset stomachs from overstuffing, all manner of minor troubles. There’s nothing better to practice on, m‘dear, and if you botch it up a bit, there’s no serious consequences.” He grinned first at Keisha, then at his two colleagues. “We’ll take her on the rounds and let her use her Gift on ’em with us as safety. She’ll get practice, we can use the time for some full exams, and that’ll keep every mother’s child in this mothering army up to strength. What do you say to that?”

  Nala looked dubious, but Gentian nodded. “Good idea. In fact, it would be a good idea for all the apprentices.” His grin, buried as it was in a bright red beard, was doubly infectious. “By the gods, we’ll spoil those soldiers, though! They’ll think this is how we should always treat ’em!”

  Keisha flushed, her cheeks hot, and Nala gave her a penetrating look. “Have you something you’d like to say, Keisha?” The plump and motherly gray-haired woman looked more like someone’s grandmother than a Healer who’d followed armies literally all her life. She seemed to understand Keisha’s shyness, and how hard it was to volunteer information.

  “Just that—I do know some remedies you may not, mostly for common things—and they don’t all have to have—painless Healing.” She flushed even more, her cheeks so warm they were painful. “You want to discourage people from pretending to be sick, right? Or complaining of truly trivial problems? The medicines aren’t very pleasant, but they are very efficient.”

  All three Healers burst into delighted laughter, lessening her blushes. “She’ll do, she’ll do!” Gentian crowed. “Oh, yes, she’ll do!”

  “You’re sure you want to be here?” Kerowyn asked Keisha as they reached the outskirts of Errold’s Grove just after suppertime—a time chosen when everyone would be home from the fields.

  “They know me; you’re outsiders. They know I wouldn’t say anything that can be ignored. If I’m here while you tell them the bad news, they won’t be so inclined to try to pretend it isn’t true.” Keisha really didn’t want to be there, but she knew she had to be; among other things, she figured she might as well get the inevitable confrontation with her parents over and done with. They were going to want her to evacuate with the others, and obviously she couldn’t do that.

  “The best thing to do is to ring the bell in the square,” Keisha went on, thinking out loud. “If we ask Mayor Lutter to assemble everyone, he’ll try to find some way of putting it off—or worse, he’ll only assemble people he thinks are important.” She gave Kerowyn a helpless shrug. “He’s good enough at arranging Faires, but I wouldn’t trust him to make any decisions in a case like this, much less make the right ones. He’ll think first of how to keep his own status high and keep getting appointed Mayor, and not concentrate on anything useful. My guess is that he’s been keeping the fact that the barbarians were coming this way a secret. The only ones who probably know are the town council members.”

  Kero snorted and looked absolutely disgusted. “Politicians! Always butting in where leaders are needed! No fear, I know the type, and I can handle him easily enough.”

  Just ahead, people wandered the village paths in the late-evening sunlight. Some were women, gathering to trade gossip, some were young people, mostly couples, and children played in the yards as they rode in, Kerowyn on her Companion, and Nightwind and Keisha on dyheli. Kerowyn had changed back to her Whites—grudgingly, but Eldan had said severely that her au
thority as a Herald might be needed to get people to act instead of dithering. There would be no difficulty with riding back after darkness fell, since the dyheli and Kero’s Companion had excellent night-vision, and there was going to be a full moon.

  As soon as the children spotted Kero, they ran back to their houses, shouting with excitement. Gods, this is an awful lot of excitement for Errold’s Grove. People are going to be talking about this year for decades, Keisha mused, as folk began to gather beside the road, their faces full of expectation. “Maybe we won’t have to ring the bell, after all,” Keisha ventured, seeing the number of people appearing on their own.

  “Good; I want to alert people, not scare them witless.” Kero’s Companion Sayvil stopped, and Kero stood up in her stirrups. “Listen, people—I want everyone in Errold’s Grove assembled in the square, right now! You littles—yes, you and you and you—go to all the houses and fetch everybody.”

  The children she pointed to ran off, squealing with excitement at being given an important mission by a Herald. “The rest of you, follow us to the square, unless you know of someone the children won’t likely find.”

  Kero took the lead, followed by Nightwind and Keisha and a parade of chattering, excited people. The noise alone will probably bring people out, Keisha thought, as the crowd behind grew larger with every step they took.

  The square had been cleaned out since the “reception” for Darian and the Hawkbrothers. How long ago was that? Just days, maybe a fortnight, but it seems like a year. There was nothing in the way of structures there at all, except the Hawkbrother bower near the Temple.

  “Don’t dismount,” said Kero, as their three mounts halted, with Kerowyn between Nightwind and Keisha. “We’ll use the height to our advantage. Anyone want to bet how long it takes for this Mayor of Keisha’s to appear, demanding that we go through him?”

  “He’s not my Mayor,” Keisha protested, and at that exact moment, Mayor Lutter appeared at the edge of the crowd, face red, shoving his way through to the center.

  “What’s going on here?” he demanded, as he came up to the nose of Kero’s Companion, Sayvil. “What’s the meaning of this?”

  Sayvil looked down her long nose at him, and deliberately sneezed wetly in his face. As he jumped back (as far as he could, given the crowd), wiping his face with his sleeve, Kero’s lips twitched. “The situation with the approaching barbarians the Hawkbrothers told you about has escalated, Mayor Lutter,” Kerowyn said, loudly enough to be heard clearly by at least a third of the crowd. “I’m here to give Crown orders for Errold’s Grove.”

  That set up a buzz, as the folk in the front exclaimed in alarm, those in the back asked what had been said, and those nearest Mayor Lutter seized on him, demanding to know why he hadn’t told them about approaching barbarians. This kept him very busy trying to make up an explanation, as Kero had probably intended.

  People continued to collect, as Kero waited patiently. When it appeared that no one else was going to join them, she stood up in her stirrups, surveyed the group with an impassive face, then abruptly signaled for silence.

  Amazingly, she got it; even the increasingly agitated cluster of people around Mayor Lutter quieted down. The Mayor, glad enough for the respite, mopped his sweating face with his other sleeve.

  “I am Herald-Captain Kerowyn, commander of the Skybolts,” Kero announced. As a murmur again rose, she continued, ignoring the sound. “I see some of you recognize me; those of you who do can make your explanations to everyone else later. Apparently your Mayor has not passed on some information he received some time ago, so I’ll repeat it in brief. Northern barbarians have been approaching this area for some time; at first it was unclear whether they were going to stop short or continue until they came to Errold’s Grove, but they show no signs of stopping, so we are assuming they will come here.”

  Interestingly, although Kero’s words were practically guaranteed to cause panic, no one moved or even said anything. It might have been Kero’s stem gaze; it might also have been that she had some rudimentary Empathic control over the crowd. Or, if she didn’t, perhaps Sayvil did. At any rate, no one ran off, or even moved much.

  “There are some significant differences between this group and the last,” Kero continued. “The most important of which is that this group contains women, children, old people, and even cripples. That suggests that they are not a conquering army, but rather migrants, nomads, or even refugees; people of that nature can be negotiated with. Nevertheless, the Crown is taking your safety very seriously, and I am in command of three companies of Guard troops that include some of my own Skybolts, who will make certain that you are protected.”

  A spontaneous, and very relieved, cheer arose, which Kero permitted to continue for a moment before raising her hand again. As before, she got silence.

  “Meanwhile I have advised Lord Breon to let everyone who wants to evacuate Errold’s Grove. I suggest that mothers with infants and small children do so, all children below the age of fourteen, all older folk, and anyone else who doesn’t feel safe. I realize that this will cause some hardship, so since we wanted some troops stationed here anyway, those troopers will help out in the fields to replace people who evacuate.” She allowed her gaze to travel across the crowd, slowly, so that she at least gave the illusion of meeting each and every eye. “There you have it. Lord Breon has agreed to accept the evacuees at Kelmskeep, and whatever you want to bring with you, go ahead and do so. This is not an emergency evacuation, and you can take as much time to pack up and move out as you need to, within reason. I’d say four or five days is within reason.”

  “Do you think the barbarians will come here?” shouted one of the Fellowship folk.

  Kero shook her head. “To be honest, not really. However, I want all possibilities covered, and if my judgment proves to be totally wrong—and it could, the gods know it’s happened before—I don’t want anyone here who is unable to run like a rabbit if trouble shows up. My recommendation is basically that the able-bodied and healthy can stay, but everyone else should go.”

  Keisha chose this moment to speak up. “I’ve been at the Vale, which is where all the news is coming. This is real, and if it were my family that had a grandma or baby, I’d not only tell them to go, I’d help them pack and escort them to Kelmskeep. Since my folks can all not only run like rabbits but can bite when cornered—” she noted several weak grins in the crowd, and stronger ones from her brothers,”—I’d say it’s safe enough for them to stay until the Herald-Captain tells them otherwise.”

  Anyone who might have been wavering until then was convinced.

  Kero waited a moment, then asked, “Anyone have any questions?”

  “Only of Mayor Lutter,” said one voice, with a decidedly grim note in it. Murmurs of agreement followed.

  “Right. You will have several more chances to ask me things, myself, or one of my lieutenants. There’ll be an officer stationed with the men who come here to help out, and if he or she doesn’t already have orders that cover any question you might have, they’ll have authority to make a decision.” She took a slow, deep breath, and looked satisfied with the results of her speech. “Carry on, decide who’s going, take your time. I’ll send the first batch of men over tomorrow, and if you don’t feel confident about getting to Kelmskeep by yourselves, some of them will provide an armed escort over. This isn’t an emergency. Yet.”

  At this point, the only excited and agitated people were the ones around Mayor Lutter; Keisha felt rather sorry for him, but he had brought his troubles on himself.

  But she saw her mother and father making their way toward her, moving slowly through the crowd with determination on their faces, and she braced herself for what was to come.

  “You are going to Kelmskeep,” stated her mother, as soon as she was close enough, in the tone that warned she would accept no other answer from her daughter.

  But it wasn’t her daughter who sat the back of a dyheli, not here, not now. It was the Errold’s Grov
e Healer, who knew that there was a perfectly good Healer at Kelmskeep, but if she left, there would be none at Errold’s Grove at a time when one would be needed urgently. Furthermore, the Errold’s Grove Healer knew that if it came to a conflict, her place was with the other Healers caring for injured fighters, not huddling behind walls of stone, far from any conflict.

  So—“No,” said the Healer of Errold’s Grove, just as firmly.

  Her mother and father simply stared at her. No wonder. I may have disobeyed, but never in anything major, and

  I’ve never refused them to their faces. Keisha hardened her shields as well as her resolution; no matter what they said or did, she had no intention of being dissuaded.

  “What do you mean, no?” demanded Ayver and Sidonie in chorus.

  “I believe it’s my duty to remain either here or at the Vale, where I am needed, and not in Kelmskeep, where I am not,” Keisha replied, in a level and moderate tone. “So I will not be going to Kelmskeep.” She was deeply grateful that Kero told them all to stay mounted; the height-advantage she had gave her an advantage in authority as well.

  Her father began to get a bit red in the face, himself. “No daughter of mine—”

  “I am your daughter only after I am a Healer,” Keisha countered, hoping that she sounded calm and reasonable. “My first and most important duty is as a Healer. Once she’s a full Herald, you wouldn’t even think to tell Shandi to stay out of danger, would you?”

  The trouble is, I’m afraid they would....

  Even through shields, she could tell that she had just set the spark to the tinder. There was going to be a very ugly outburst in a moment; she braced herself, cringing inside.