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  The coat was infernally heavy; not hot, but heavy. The weight of all that beading and embroidery hung on his shoulders like the heaviest pack he’d ever had to hike with.

  Once the entire outfit was on, he waited for Meeren to return to inspect him and put the finishing touches on his appearance.

  He certainly couldn’t put the finishing touches on himself; he could hardly move without knocking something over with his sleeves.

  It wasn’t long until Meeren trotted in the door, clad himself in a coat made of thousands of tiny black octagonal scales of metal, forming a “fabric” as flexible as silk. Meeren examined him closely, looking at him from all angles, before pronouncing his satisfaction. “You’ll do,” the hertasi said. “Now sit, and let me make you presentable.”

  Darian sat gingerly on a low stool, and Meeren moved in, brush and comb in hand. Despite his apprehension, Meeren did not pull every hair out of Darian’s head; in fact, he was remarkably gentle. Darian had allowed his hair to grow long, Tayledras-fashion, so that he could braid feathers and beads into it as his Clan-brothers did. It took a defter hand than his to achieve the kind of effects that Firesong or Starfall managed, and that was where Meeren came in.

  He sat patiently as Meeren worked, wondering what was going on, but unable to tell anything from the gentle tugs and pulls on his hair. Meeren didn’t take long, not as long as the hertasi must have taken with Keisha, but Darian was very impatient to see his handiwork, and shifted restlessly on his stool.

  “All right, all right, I’m finished!” Meeren exclaimed. “Go ahead and look - but don’t admire yourself too long; they’re waiting for you at the Vale entrance.”

  He got up carefully, mindful of his costume, and moved into the bedroom to peer into the only mirror in the house.

  It was a pleasant surprise, for he had been a little afraid that Meeren would overdo the decorations; Meeren had worked Kuari’s feathers, a few strands of amber beads, and leather thongs finished with tiny silver feathers and figurines into his hair without making him look like a walking display of hair-jewelry. In fact, with his hair pulled back from his face and given a little more discipline, he looked a few years older than he actually was. That was exactly the effect he’d hoped for, but when he turned to thank the hertasi, Meeren was already gone.

  It’s time for me to be gone, too. He took a last look at himself, satisfied himself that everything was fastened in firmly and wasn’t going to come apart, then headed for his destination at a trot that would have been a run if not for the weight.

  The Veil distorted the view past the entrance, but there was no doubt that everyone who could possibly appear to greet the Heralds had made it his business to come. As he passed the Veil itself, the tingle along his skin and down his spine seemed a bit stronger than usual; that probably meant Starfall and Firesong had gotten the Veil strengthened enough to keep out rain and inclement weather. Of course, now that they’ve got the “umbrella” up, it won’t rain.

  When he emerged on the other side and surveyed the crowd beneath trees that were only large by the standards of those who lived outside a Vale, he saw Keisha wave at him, then run to meet him. She looked a great deal more comfortable in her Greens than he was in his costume; her outfit was a butterfly-sleeved, calf-length tunic over long trews, belted with silver. Silver embroidery of leaves and vines on all hems was the extent of ornamentation, for the real emphasis in her costume was the fabric, which somehow managed to ripple through every possible shade of green as she moved. She seized his arm and tugged him to the right, looking relieved. Out in the crowd, there were at least two brightly painted inflated kick balls being tossed about randomly from person to person.

  “Are they here yet?” he asked, wondering if he had missed the ceremony somehow.

  “No, no, not yet, but Kel has them in sight.” She gestured upward, and he followed her pointing finger to a patch of blue sky in the canopy of leaves. A small black speck rode a thermal in a slow, lazy circle overhead. Kel is obviously planning on making an impressive entrance, he thought with amusement. His favorite hobby, besides being preened.

  But Keisha was tugging on his arm again, and he followed her obediently out past the restless mob of his fellow Hawkbrothers. Anticipation hung thickly in the air, and mingling with the Tayledras were members of Ghost Cat, villagers from Errold’s Grove, and Lord Breon’s people. Errold’s Grove would get its own chance to greet the Heralds, but that wouldn’t take place until the sixth day, and Darian intended to avoid that particular festival if he possibly could. He fully expected to be passed out in his bed then by the time all parties involved had gotten done with him.

  There was no elevated platform setting the greeting committee apart from the rest, but one wasn’t needed. If nothing else, the costumes marked all of the principal players out; the last time Starfall, Snowfire, and Nightwind had worn their elaborate outfits had been at Snowfire and Nightwind’s wedding. Since then, the heavily embroidered and embellished items had been serving as wall art, as Darian’s own costume eventually would. Firesong had outdone all of them; if sheer magnificence of clothing was the standard of importance, Herald Anda would surely think that he was the leader in this Vale. Silverfox lacked Firesong’s impressive mask, but that was all he lacked; in every other respect, he was Firesong’s reverse-image twin. The two of them were clad in blue and gold; where Firesong had gold in the patterns of beading and embroidery, Silverfox had blue, and vice versa. What first appeared to be subtle streaks of gold or blue in their hair became, on closer inspection, strings of tiny beads, ending in minute feathers. Aya sat on Firesong’s shoulder, and as Darian neared, Kuari hooted a greeting from a branch above Starfall. His parents, Hweel and Huur, sat beside him. Starfall’s falcon was on his gloved fist, and even the glove was beautifully made, with appliqued designs made of layers of dyed deerskin set into the cuff. Birds called, crowed, or screamed to each other, and a yellow kick ball bounced off Kuari’s branch, making him hoot in indignation.

  “Sorry!” someone called.

  “Well, the boy cleans up rather nicely,” Firesong said to Starfall, with a wink. “Perhaps we won’t have to pretend he’s a servant after all.”

  “Hey!” Darian protested, pointing an accusing finger at Firesong. “I’d been working on the stables all morning. What were you doing?”

  “Making certain that rain would not interrupt our greetings,” Firesong replied blandly, with a toss of his head that made the beads chime together like tiny bells. “Delicate work, that, requiring the skill of an expert.”

  Starfall rolled his eyes and snorted in derision. “Yes it did, which is why you helped,” he corrected. “Or at least, you called it helping.”

  Firesong pretended to be greatly offended, and Silverfox just shook his head at both of them. “Indeed! I was there to make certain that instant corrections could be made if you upset something with your blundering. After all, Father, you are getting a bit forgetful lately.”

  “Forgetful? My blundering!” Starfall exclaimed. “What about - ”

  “Enough, you two,” Nightwind interrupted them, then giggled. “Some of the outsiders might begin to believe that you two hate each other.”

  Starfall grinned, and behind the mask, Firesong mock-pouted. “Oh, Mother - ” he began, in imitation of a whining child.

  “Don’t!” Nightwind warned, hands on hips. “Just don’t. Act like the baby, and I’ll send you to your room like a baby!”

  Firesong chuckled. “She’s getting rather good at that, isn’t she?” he said in an aside to Snowfire. “That whole mother thing, I mean.”

  Snowfire nodded ruefully. “It’s a good thing, too, since the baby has me completely under her control. One teary-eyed look, and any resistance I had just evaporates.”

  He might have elaborated on that subject, but a shout of “Here they come!” interrupted him. There were several whistles, and the kick balls mysteriously vanished amid the crowd.

  The entire group peered up the t
rail; Firesong and Darian both shaded their eyes with their hands. At first Darian couldn’t see anything, but then a ray of light falling slantwise through the branches glanced off something white, which resolved into two distant riders.

  Was it only two years ago that I stood here waiting for my new teacher, only to find out that he was the famous Adept Firesong? So much had happened since then; he had been so busy he hadn’t even had much time to visit the village except for the seasonal Faires. When I’m not off settling minor disputes, arbitrating trades, or helping the Vale understand the village, I’ve been caught up in Firesong’s training. No wonder time has gotten away from me!

  He wished for a breeze, feeling the weight of his coat even more; for once, a breeze sprang up in answer to his wish. The riders neared at a steady pace, and he broke off his musing to examine them at his leisure. They both wore the Herald “working garb” of leather trews, a leather jerkin, and a plain white shirt tied loosely at the neck; it was pretty clear that they hadn’t been expecting a formal reception or a major celebration. It had been a year since he’d last seen Shandi, and it seemed to him at least that she had gotten taller. Her face had thinned out a bit, but aside from that, her new status didn’t seem to have put much of an outward stamp on her.

  However, her Whites were obviously new, compared to the well-worn costume of the man riding beside her. So was her Companion’s tack, and Darian made a mental note to have one of the hertasi look it over for stiffness and give it a good oiling with the special lanolin they used on hawk-furniture.

  Herald Anda had probably not been very young when he demonstrated Mage-Gift and was selected for training by Darkwind and Elspeth. Now he was in late middle age, brown hair generously streaked with gray, and his weathered face as wrinkled as any shepherd’s of the same age. He was in perfect health and excellent condition, however; despite a ride of many days’ duration, he sat his Companion easily with little hint of fatigue.

  The crowd behind Darian stilled, with hardly more than a murmur or two from those waiting. The two Heralds rode up in silence, with only the music of the forest behind them and the sound of their Companions’ hoofbeats to punctuate it. They didn’t use their reins, but the Companions came to a graceful halt about two wagon-lengths from Starfall. Herald Anda was in the lead, but by no more than a pace; neither he nor Shandi looked surprised at the size of the crowd waiting for them. While they probably weren’t thinking about a big, formal reception, I suppose they would be expecting a big crowd - this is one of the most important things to happen around here since we established the Vale. Besides, Heralds are rare enough around here that even an “ordinary” Herald draws a crowd.

  Karles, Shandi’s Companion, tossed his head and looked around at the huge crowd with deep interest. The Heralds dismounted together, in a movement as perfectly timed as if they had rehearsed it. There were some murmurs of admiration from the crowd; Ayshen was right, there was power in style. But of course, they don’t have to practice moving together - not when they’re Mind-linked to their Companions, and perhaps to each other as well. It certainly gave a good impression, however, making it look as if they had been a team for a very long time.

  Again, Shandi remained a pace or two behind Herald Anda, who approached the little group that stepped forward to welcome him. Firesong and Silverfox in their turn lagged a little behind the rest, as Starfall took the lead with Darian beside him.

  All right, here I go. Darian felt Anda’s eyes rest on him for a moment, before the Herald turned his attention to Starfall.

  “Herald Anda, we bid you and your Companion welcome to k’Valdemar Vale,” Starfall said gravely. “Shandi and Karles, of course, we already know. We are glad to welcome them as well. We hope this new partnership will be a fruitful one for all of us, and we are pleased to be part of this new venture with Valdemar.”

  Darian stepped forward with his own well-rehearsed words. “We of k’Valdemar Vale invite you to partake of our hospitality and fellowship for as long as you desire,” he told them. “We hope, in fact, that you find it so welcome that you take up residence permanently within the Vale. Now, if you will permit - I am Darian Firkin k’Vala k’Valdemar.” He gave his full name with permissible pride, and bowed his head in the brief nod of equal to equal. “This is Adept Starfall k’Vala, this is his son Healing-Adept Firesong k’Treva.” Starfall nodded, and Firesong moved forward a little and did the same. They had agreed on the order in which they would be introduced when they decided that Darian would make the introductions. “With Firesong is the kestra’chern Silverfox k’Leshya of the Kaled’a’in. I also introduce to you Mage-Scout Snowfire k’Vala and trondi’irn Nightwind k’Leshya of the Kaled’a’in.”

  Anda nodded to each of the people introduced, and if he didn’t know what a kestra’chern or a trondi’irn was, he didn’t show it.

  Now the nonhumans came forward; Hashi wearing a collar and breastplate of appliqued leather, Ayshen in a coat of metal-scale like Meeren’s, and Tyrsell sporting jeweled caps to his horns and a jeweled collar. “Here also are Hashi, chief of the kyree, Ayshen, leader of the hertasi, and Tyrsell, King-Stag of the dyheli of k’Valdemar Vale.”

  Evidently Anda had been warned, or had seen enough of intelligent nonhumans that he showed no sign whatsoever of surprise. He was, however, about to get a bit of a start.

  Because just as Darian had figured, Kel had planned all along to make an impressive entrance. So he did - plunging through the branches of the trees with folded wings, to open them with a sudden snap at the last moment, and thunder in to a perfect landing. He kicked up such a wind that the Heralds both had to protect their eyes with their hands from the flying debris, and the Hawkbrothers, male and female alike, seized their hair to avoid ending up with a tangled mess.

  Kel settled back onto his haunches, and regarded the Heralds with a mild gaze. He was in the full panoply of a Silver Gryphon; harness, collar, gems on his ear-tufts, and feathers painted and gilded. “And this is Silver Gryphon Kelvren, chief of the k’Valdemar gryphons,” Darian finished, determined to look as if Kel’s entrance had been planned from the beginning. Kel bowed his head regally - then lost every bit of his dignity at Anda’s reply.

  “I am very pleased to meet all of you at last,” the Herald replied. “As is my Companion Eran. I am sure you already know that Shandi and Karles are overjoyed to be here as well. I am personally pleased to meet again with gryphons, since I was taught the use of magic by Treyvan and Hydona; I came to know them well, and consider them to be two of my best friends.”

  Kel’s beak opened, and his eyes pinned in surprise. “You were taught by Treyvan and Hydona? You arre frrriends with the great onesss?” he gasped, and could not manage to say more, so overcome he was with the shock. Darian smoothly took up his speech again, covering Kel’s dumbfounded astonishment.

  “We comprise the Elders and Council of k’Valdemar,” he told Herald Anda. “And as such, we open the Vale to you.”

  That was all that he was supposed to say, and as he stepped back, Starfall took over. “If you will allow us, we will conduct you and your Companions to your temporary home.” He followed his speech with a gesture. “When you are settled and refreshed, we have planned a welcome feast and festival in honor of your arrival. We hope our customs will soon seem comfortable to you.”

  “Thank you, for all four of us,” Anda replied, and took his place at Starfall’s right, with his Companion Eran following. They all turned to face the gathering waiting behind Starfall, who had been holding their collective breath the better to hear the speeches.

  That was the signal for everyone assembled to greet the new Heralds with a rousing cheer that shook the leaves and probably frightened every bird for furlongs about into silence.

  The gathering split in two, making a path for Starfall and Anda. Behind them followed everyone else, with Shandi, Karles, and Keisha bringing up the rear. Shandi had her head together with Keisha, and Darian figured that they wouldn’t miss his presence, so
he stayed right behind Starfall. He was easily within hearing distance, and so caught most of the men’s conversation.

  “I am quite glad to take up this position, Adept Starfall,” Anda was saying earnestly. “I have had enough traveling for two lifetimes. It will be good to finally settle into one place.”

  “I was under the impression that Heralds generally did not settle, is that true?” Starfall asked.

  “In the past, yes, that has been true,” Anda admitted. “Our saddles were usually our homes. We certainly spent more time on roads than in bedsteads. However, it occurred to Her Majesty that those with Mage-Gift would be of less use to the Crown in an emergency if it was impossible to lay plans knowing where they were, or if they were too far into the hinterlands to do any good. She decided that, insofar as it was possible, it would be better for Herald-Mages to assume permanent residencies, especially since there are so few of us. She has stationed about half of us as instructors at the Collegium, made Elspeth, Darkwind, and myself ambassadors, and the rest will be taking new stations such as mine, in important places along the Border.”

  “So you are intended to become the permanent ambassador here?” Starfall’s satisfaction at that admission was evident in his voice.

  “When you have gone to the trouble of creating a perfect place for all of the peoples of this area to come together, we would have been rather foolish to ignore the tacit invitation,” Anda said dryly, and Starfall chuckled. “And to be blunt, in doing so, you saved Haven the trouble of making such a place and even better, saving them, if not a king’s ransom, certainly a duke’s!”