Under The Vale And Other Tales Of Valdemar v(-105 Read online

  “Did you hear her give that order?”

  “No, but when I went to the kennels as soon as I got out of the chapel, Jasper was there with the Kennelmaster, and they both said that she had ordered the dogs killed.”

  “She did,” Jasper said positively. “I heard her. And I don’t want the dogs killed. And the priest said that the dogs are mine now.”

  Samira held up a hand again. “We’ll get back to that in a minute, Lord Jasper. Lord Teren, did you or do you have any plans to profit from the dogs?”

  Lord Teren shook his head wearily. “No. I will never hunt again. My only thought was to give the dogs a home where they would not trouble Lady Shantell.”

  The blue glow of the Truth Spell remained steady. Samira took a deep breath and said, “On the charge of murder, I find Lord Teren innocent. Lord Kristion’s death was accidental.”

  “He still killed my husband!”

  “True, but he did not murder him. There is a difference.”

  “My husband is dead, my son is an orphan, and the man who killed his father is to be his guardian?” Shantell protested.

  “That issue is still to be resolved,” Samira said.

  “I would be willing to cede the guardianship to Lady Shantell,” Lord Teren said.

  “No!” Jasper protested. “She’ll kill the dogs!”

  “Jasper!” Shantell’s voice was somewhere between hurt and fury. “Would you favor your father’s killer over your own mother?”

  Lena, who was still holding the hand Jasper had slipped into hers when the reading of the will began, gave it a warning squeeze. She leaned over and murmured softly into his ear. “There’s no good reply to that question; don’t even try to answer it.”

  “I see that we had best settle the question of the dogs before the guardianship,” Samira said, shuffling priorities. “What kind of dogs are we dealing with?”

  “Greyhounds,” Lord Teren replied. “Trained hunting dogs. Not only does Jasper not want them killed, but they are also quite valuable. It would not be in his best interests to have them killed; indeed, it would be a breach of duty for a guardian to order such a thing.”

  “Well, I won’t have them here, and I won’t let you take them!” Shantell said furiously. “And I don’t want them around my child—he doesn’t need anything to tempt him to take up hunting!”

  “Lord Jasper,” Samira asked. “Would you be willing to have the dogs live someplace else, as long as they would be safe and well cared for?”

  Jasper chewed on his lower lip for a moment, and then nodded reluctantly. “I’ll miss the puppies, but it’s more important that they be safe.”

  “Is there anyone you would trust to care for them?”

  “Yes. Lena.”

  “But Lena lives in Haven,” Samira pointed out. “That’s rather far away.”

  “She lives with . . . people . . . who like animals.”

  Thank all the gods that he didn’t say “a god who likes animals.”

  “Lena?” Samira asked.

  Lena thought quickly. “Yes, I can take them.” The Temple of Thenoth will certainly grant sanctuary to animals under the threat of death. “The King is sending a carriage to take me home; it’s due in two days. We should be able to transport Minda and her puppies in it.”

  “How many dogs are we talking about here?” Samira asked.

  Lena ticked them off on her fingers. “Minda, six puppies, and the seven hunting dogs. Fourteen.”

  “You’re willing to travel all the way to Haven in a carriage with fourteen dogs?”

  Lena nodded. Samira shook her head. “Better you than me. Very well, if everyone agrees that this is what should be done with the dogs—” She looked around the room until she got agreement, however reluctant, from everyone involved.

  “Now, with regard to the guardianship: Lord Kristion named Lord Teren. Does anyone know his thinking on this?”

  The priest was the one to reply. “He felt that if he died while Lord Jasper was still a child, he would benefit by a man’s guidance.”

  “So it was not that he considered Lady Shantell incapable of managing the estate?”

  “Indeed not.” The priest was definite on that point at least. “She customarily ran the estate when he was absent at court or performing military service.”

  “That’s true,” Lord Teren corroborated. “Lady Shantell is fully capable of running the estate and raising her son. That’s why I’m willing to resign as Jasper’s guardian in her favor.” The Truth Spell showed that he believed what he said.

  Samira looked skeptically at him and even more skeptically at Lady Shantell. “At the moment, I’m not particularly impressed with the soundness of her judgment.” She looked from one to the other and then at the priest. “I therefore rule as follows: For the next half-year the two of you will be joint guardians, and any decisions that affect Jasper’s well being or the assets of the estate must be agreed upon by both of you.”

  Shantell opened her mouth to protest, and Samira glared at her. “If you are unable to work together in person, your priest may serve as a mediator.” She looked at the priest and added, “If that is acceptable to him.”

  “I will be happy to do anything in my power to help,” he replied.

  “Very well.” Samira dismissed the Truth Spells. “Those are my decisions.”

  Samira stayed at the estate for a pair of days, ostensibly using it as a base for her duties in the surrounding area. “Actually,” she told Lena, “it’s partly that I want to be sure that Lady Shantell is calming down enough to think rationally again and that Jasper is all right—but mostly I want to see you fit fourteen dogs into a coach with you and your luggage!”

  “Luggage?” Lena grinned at her. “I’m donating some of my clothing to the housekeeper for cleaning rags—it’s amazing how much of it got torn up in the woods while I was here. So I won’t have much luggage, and it can go on the roof. And I like dogs.”

  “Will you still like them when you get back to Haven?” Samira asked teasingly.

  By the time she got back to Haven, Lena’s remaining dresses were covered with dog hair, and she had a close bond with all of the dogs. She had sent the crows to warn Maia of the new arrivals so that there would be a place prepared for them in the kennels, and Maia was in the temple courtyard when the carriage arrived.

  “Is there one of your fancy names for the dogs?” Lena asked Maia as they carefully carried the puppies to the kennel, escorted by Minda and the rest of the pack.

  “Yes,” Maia replied. “You’ve brought us a leash of greyhounds.”

  Chapter 6 - Warp and Weft - Kristin Schwengel

  No one could say for certain what had happened to Triska, but the disordered heap of robes and the unique necklace found inside the Change Circle—and the mangled remains of a rather average-sized lizard just outside that circle—spoke volumes.

  The hertasi artisan had known, had heard the warnings of the Elders, and yet she had gone outside the protective shields of the Vale. The residents of k’Veyas, warned by the Alliance Mages, had known that it was coming, this final Mage Storm, had realized that it could destroy them all if the shielding failed. Triska, of course, had known. And she had still gone out.

  “The silk waits for no one,” she had been fond of saying, usually just before leaving the Vale in foul weather to harvest cocoons. And the Change Circle where the remains had been found, the locus of mutation formed by the overlap of two rippling waves of magical energy, was not far from her favorite trees, the ones whose silkworms always produced the strongest, finest, smoothest fibers.

  When the Elders showed Stardance the broken chain and cracked amber stone retrieved from the pile, the gift she had given to the cloth artisan, she buried her grief after the first stunned moment. Fury was simpler, covering the dark, hollow loneliness that threatened. The anger warmed her, kept her from drowning in that aching emptiness, and she fed it, raging in turn at the Elders, at Triska, and at the implacable Storms themselves,
then fled to the most private corner of the Vale, the secret nook she had discovered as a child running from her mother’s death. This time, there would be no Triska to find her, to take her into her care and heal her hurting, bringing her back to the life of the Vale.

  Back then, the Elders of k’Veyas had found it amusing, the human child following the hertasi, when usually the lizardfolk were the dutiful aides and helpers of the Tayledras. Since Triska did not seem bothered by Stardance’s presence, the girl had been allowed to spend most of her time in the company of the clothworker, sometimes seeming like a daughter, sometimes an apprentice. Her father lived in his home Vale of k’Lissa, and since at the time he was unable to care for a youngster, k’Veyas agreed to keep her in their Vale. She had always been a solitary child, and with the hertasi to help her she was allowed exceptional freedom.

  Even after Stardance showed signs of her father’s Mage Gift, she still stayed with Triska. The Elders taught her, and she was an apt pupil, but she was more often to be found practicing her skills with the threads and fibers in Triska’s cliffside den than in the heavily warded practice rooms. None of the Tayledras were quite certain what a hertasi could or couldn’t do with magic, but since Triska seemed unconcerned about her adopted daughter’s magical “play” the Elders permitted Stardance to remain with her.

  After several years of this odd training, Stardance was just old enough for her Mage Gift to truly begin to develop into its full power and potential. Now, though, the Storms had come and gone, and magic was no longer the same. The Heartstones were weakened or empty, their accumulated power drained to maintain the last desperate shields over the Vales, to save the people within them. Outside, caught in a Change Circle, Triska had not been so fortunate.

  Winternight stood, and respectful silence fell. The Storms had aged him so that his usual pallor now seemed ghostlike, his energy spent and drained from him just as the once-vibrant Heartstone was now emptied of all but the faintest flickers of magic. His staff, once used to help him direct his considerable power, now served only to provide physical support, and he leaned heavily on it.

  “We do not yet know the extent of damage in our own region of the Pelagiris, much less that of the other Vales,” he said, in response to several questioners. “Only the strongest Farspeakers have been able to communicate with them. Our scouts have been taking care of Change-Beasts as they have found them, but our perimeter of safety is much closer to the Vale than ever it was.” He paused to emphasize the reality of the damage done and the isolation of their Vale, off on a western edge of the Pelagiris.

  “I propose that we send Mages out with our border patrols and scouts, one Mage with a group of two or three trained fighters. The Mages can begin to assess the extent of the damage to the magical energy around the Vale and help guide Silverheart’s efforts to Heal it. If they encounter Change-Creatures, the Mages will also recognize which might be more than physical threats.”

  “What of the students?” someone asked. “Even if all the magic is gone, what should they be doing? We can’t send them out to the perimeters!” An immediate babble followed—some in favor of utilizing every resource the Vale had, others insisting that those who were not confirmed Mages should not even attempt to use magic until the lasting effects of the Storms were completely known.

  Winternight raised his hand, and the din drifted back to quiet. “The students will not go to the outer perimeters, but every bit of help is needed.” He paused again. “They will work within the areas where the scouts have already passed at least once, where they are not likely to encounter Change-Beasts. They will be searching these areas for trace magics, studying any changes in patterns, looking for subtle echoes of power.” A few more questions, these from some of the instructors, and Winternight gathered those few around him for private conference.

  Stardance shook her head and shifted backward, edging away from the group and drifting between the trees, headed for her too-empty ekele. She did not dare defy the direct command of the Elders that all the Mage-talented and trained of k’Veyas attend the meeting, but she had chosen to stand in a half-hidden spot on the outskirts of the assembly. It is all folly, anyway, she thought bitterly. Of what use were they, now that the magic had disappeared? What good was anything now that Triska was—she shut down the thought before she could complete it, returning to her anger to cover the aching void inside her. What good was magic, anyway? After all, it had been a centuries-gone excess of magic that had caused this nightmare. Maybe there was a lesson to be learned. Maybe their Shin’a’in cousins had the right of it—maybe it was time they did without magic entirely.

  She was almost out of view, almost free, when a gentle but firm hand fell on her shoulder.

  “You, too, will take part in the search tomorrow.” Windwhisperer’s voice, though quiet, was implacable.

  “What would be the point? There’s nothing left!” Hostile resentment lashed through her words.

  “We don’t know that for certain. But we need to find out.”

  “I can’t be what you want,” she muttered to the ground, unsure what the words meant even as she said them.

  “What would you be, then?” That quiet voice held no anger, no demand. She turned to look at him. The Elder’s face was as still as his words, giving her no impression of his thoughts.

  She shifted away, her eyes dropping again. “Once, I might have known. Now, there’s no point. It doesn’t matter.” She thought briefly of Triska’s cave, of working with the richly colored fibers and fabrics, creating beauty with functionality, and sharp loneliness arced pain through her heart before she shuttered her face. “Why go out there when it won’t change anything?”

  “Perhaps it won’t. Or perhaps it could.” The silence between them lengthened. “Out there, it may be that you could find an answer to my question.” She heard a faint shushing, like a breeze lifting the wide leaves outside her ekele, and she looked up once more, only to find herself alone on the sanded path.

  When morning came, Stardance found herself walking beyond the borders of the Vale, one of the first group of students assigned to a small section of the “safer” areas. Just as the confirmed Mages were partnered with experienced scouts and patrols, the students, too, were accompanied by younger fighters. Stardance was the youngest student in the group traveling to the east of the Vale, and the simmering resentment in the oldest scout trainee was palpable as he paced near her. Clearly, he felt that he belonged in the unexplored places, not in the safe areas with the students.

  “You don’t need to babysit me,” she finally snapped, knowing she sounded like a petulant child but not really caring. “If you want to go farther out, my Kir will let your bird know if I need assistance.”

  The scout, barely five summers older than she, gave her an odd look, but he didn’t reply. Instead, he allowed a little more space to drift between them, no longer matching his steps to hers but lengthening his stride until he moved first beyond her view, then beyond her hearing. She shrugged. If he went too far and found something he couldn’t handle, he would deserve it. He was good enough, at least, that it had taken only moments for her to not be able to hear him. No longer distracted by his angry presence, she frowned and returned her attention to her own task.

  The area she was to inspect was a rough wedge shape, curving outward from the Vale between a stand of large pines and a meadowed area and along the cliff edge that dropped down to the stream that would eventually join the Anduras. Pacing the approximate borders, using her Mage Sight to look for magical signatures or unusual tracks of anything the scouts might have missed, Stardance felt her frustration mount. It’s just useless makework , she thought angrily. There’s nothing out here--they just want to keep us busy until they can figure out what to do next. I don’t know why we’re even bothering. Even so, she continued with her task.

  At first, Kir had flown overhead, helping her keep track of where her wedge overlapped with segments being examined by the other students; their bondbirds
were in the air for the same purpose. After she had finished the first circuit of her area and started a closer inspection of the inside of the wedge, she gave Kir permission to land.

  For several candlemarks, Stardance combed the forest, starting at the outer border of her space and spiraling inward until she reached the landmarks of the clearing that was the last, central piece of the area she was assigned to. She heard only the natural sounds of the forest, although as she neared the edges of her wedge she sometimes heard mutterings from the other students or scouts. At one point, she looked up to see the scout’s goshawk bondbird lazily coasting overhead, but she neither saw nor heard any trace of the young man himself.

  After another candlemark of pushing through brush and finding nothing of more concern than small rodents, Stardance stood in the small clearing that marked the “point” of her wedge. Releasing her Mage Sight with a sigh of relief, she loosened her water skin from her belt and took a drink.

  :Thirsty.: Kir’s MindVoice was her most plaintive. The falcon had alternated between soaring on the thermals and perching in trees near Stardance to watch her, her head cocked to the side as though she were trying to make sense of her mistress’ actions.

  :Come, then,: Stardance replied, lifting her hand for the falcon, who plummeted from the sky. Raising the bird from her arm brace to the leather pad on her shoulder, Stardance held up the water skin, tilting it so a careful stream poured into Kir’s beak. Kir shook her head, sending droplets spattering over Stardance’s face and hair. Stardance winced and pulled the water skin away, mock-glaring at her bondbird. The falcon was unchastened, her eyes glinting as she tilted her head, and Kir’s teasing amusement in the back of her mind drew out the first smile Stardance had felt since the last Storm. Since Triska . . . she stopped the thought abruptly.