Mercedes Lackey - Owlknight

“War-trained though he is, the Heraldic Circle feels that his experience in dealing with mages of so many different cultures will be useful here among us. I’m told that since the war he’s been riding circuit on the Karse and Hardorn borders, so he’s been running liaison with Sunpriests and Imperials. But that’s not the whole of the news - he’s bringing your Shandi back with him!”

Darian’s eyes widened in surprise equal to Snowfire’s. “Already?” he said cautiously, wondering if Shandi had somehow gotten herself in deeper trouble than she could get herself out of. It had been three years, perhaps less, since she had gone to the Collegium; surely she couldn’t have gotten her Whites yet!

“Already,” Lord Breon said with satisfaction. “The girl’s got her Whites - not the record, maybe, but she’s ready for other duties. Anda hand-picked her himself as his assistant, so she’ll be groomed for permanent service here!”

“Breon! That’s excellent news!” Barda said heartily, beaming at him. “I hope she’s as happy with the posting as her parents will be! Well, heyla, with all this increase in attention, perhaps we can see some funding for better roads and a second bridge!”

“I don’t know why she wouldn’t be,” Breon replied - and behind his back, Val rolled his eyes at Darian, who smothered a grin. Val and his lady were about to take Breon’s place at Court, and Val could hardly wait to get away, out from under his father’s well-intentioned restrictions. Not that Val was going to be irresponsible when the parental ties were severed - he wasn’t the adolescent who’d yearned for “the clash of sword on sword” two years ago. It had been Darian who’d seen how he chafed under the burden of being “only” the son, but it was Starfall who’d suggested that Val would make an excellent representative for his father at Haven and the Court.

That Lord Breon had embraced the suggestion so readily told Darian that he himself hadn’t worked out what to do with a young man full of energy and ideas with nothing to do.

“I want Herald Anda to meet you, Val,” he said, turning to his son, who quickly assumed a more appropriate expression. “But as soon as he’s settled in, it’ll be a good time for you to leave; any later and I might not be able to spare you a proper escort.”

Val grinned back at his father. “I’d have been disappointed if you’d asked me to go to Court before he arrived,” he assured his father. “If there was ever an excuse for a Tayledras celebration, this will be it!”

Snowfire grinned, and Kel chuckled. “What an excellent suggestion, Val!” Snowfire said facetiously. “We would never have thought of that, we are so completely serious-minded. We’ll take it under advisement!”

Val knew the Hawkbrothers too well now not to recognize the teasing for what it was, and just grinned back. “I’d be happy to advise you on the menu as well,” he suggested.

Nightwind raised an eyebrow. “Not that you would ever volunteer to cook any of the proposed menu,” she said dryly.

“You beat me to it,” chimed in Ayshen.

“You wouldn’t even suggest that if you had ever tasted his cooking, lady,” Lord Breon replied with an exaggerated shudder. “I won’t even let him make tea when we are out on a hunt.”

Val opened his mouth to protest, then realized that he might get himself into something he didn’t want, and shut it again. Darian smirked.

“Well, before we get into too many celebration plans, I’ve got a protest to lay before the Council,” Barda announced. “Ard Kilmer and Fern Holl are not happy with Ghost Cat at the moment, and they want me to make a formal objection.”

Chief Vordon looked surprised. “What could this problem be?” he asked. “Not Boys’ Raids again, surely?”

He was referring to the last protest against Ghost Cat, when boys wanting to earn their Manhood status had begun raiding villagers. Everything that was taken was returned, and the items taken were all of little value - but the fact that those items had come from inside people’s homes, and had been taken in the dead of night, had been more than a little unsettling to the good people of Errold’s Grove. They did not like the idea of “half-wild barbarian boys” creeping around in their homes while they slept, and who could blame them? After all, their daughters might be next to be stolen, and the daughters might not want to be returned!

The Chief and Shaman, after long consultation with the Council, had agreed to a new way of earning Manhood tallies that would demonstrate even more raiding skill than snatching things from villagers. Now the boys who wanted to count coups had to slip up close enough to a sleeping dyheli to put a handprint in paint on its side. Tyrsell liked this game; it forced the herd to regain some of the alertness it had been losing since life at k’Valdemar was so unchallenging. The young bucks of the herd appreciated it as well, and had taken to “counting coup” back, sneaking up behind a stalking boy and giving him a sharp nudge with a horn to his backside.

“No, not Boys’ Raids,” Barda replied. “They’ve heard your folk have been buying their chirras with intent to breed, and they’re afraid you’re going to challenge their market.”

“Fair is fair, Barda,” Lord Breon protested. “They wouldn’t have any room to protest if it was someone else from their village that was raising chirras in competition.”

“I know that,” Barda replied irritably, “but it’s my job to present the protest. So I have.”

“If they are so concerned, they could sell us only geldings,” Chief Vordon rumbled, “And then we will take our trade goods elsewhere. Our people came here hungry. The memory of crying bellies has not left us. We seek to breed those animals, so we will have enough food to keep a reserve. If they do not consider our value as peaceful neighbors they help feed, then we will seek out others farther away who will sell to us.”

“That could get ugly.” Val whispered to Darian.

:Competition keeps the breed strong,: was Tyrsell’s only comment.

The Chief looked to Lord Breon for further support, and possibly advice, and Breon was not loath to give it. “I move that the protest is noted but not valid - they’re only protesting because they think the Chief won’t know it’s groundless and they think they can get a settlement from the Council for nothing. In fact, I move the protest be dismissed. All in favor?”

A show of hands (and talons, paws, and hooves) all around - including Barda’s - made it unanimous without Chief Vordon having to get involved at all.

Since Lord Breon was the one on record as putting it to the vote, and countering the protest, it was unlikely that anything more would be said by the two farmers.

Barda sighed. “That was the stickiest bit. Market prices are down, but they can’t blame anything but the good crop of early vegetables. The Fellowship wants to send a parcel of wedding shawls with your boy as presents to people he thinks might do us some good.”

“You mean bribes, don’t you?” Vordon asked slyly.

“Anybody who understands bribery can’t be that much of a barbarian,” Val whispered.

“Presents, bribes, whatever.” Barda shrugged the insinuation away. “We aren’t asking for anything specific, and I certainly don’t want him to go giving them to tariff-officials, or anything of the sort. These are a different design that we’re hoping will catch on, and we’re looking for someone who’ll give us a decent price for the privilege of exclusivity. We made too many agreements back when the village wasn’t as prosperous with traders who are making a great deal of money from our work. We aren’t going to go back on those agreements now, but - well, you know.”