Mercedes Lackey - Owlsight

The initial greeting committee wasn’t to be a large one. It consisted of the three Elders: Starfall, Snowfire, and Nightwind, of course. To that group were added Ayshen, for the hertasi, a handsome neuter called Hashi (his real name sounded like a sneeze) for the kyree, Tyrsell for the dyheli, and, last of all, Darian. It was Darian who had pointed out that they would make a much more favorable impression on Lord Breon if they came to him, rather than the other way around, so instead of waiting for Breon to come calling, the first thing they did, once the initial settling in was over, was to put that in motion.

A messenger went to Kelmskeep to ask if they might come to present their respects; he returned the same day with a message of welcome, and an invitation to visit in three days. The reply was phrased formally enough to show that Breon took them seriously, but informally enough to show that he was ready to be friends. So their first impression was a favorable one.

“It’s good that he said three days,” Darian told the others, with confidence. “More than a week would mean that he didn’t think we were important enough to postpone other business, and two days or less would mean he didn’t think we were important enough to have business that we have to clear away.” Then he laughed. “Looks as if all that business about manners that got hammered into my head is going to turn out useful! I certainly never thought it would!”

“Why not?” Snowfire asked. “Courtesy is always appreciated.”

“Because it was all taught out of this musty old book meant for people like Lord Breon’s heir, Val. Highborn people who have to know all the etiquette of official visits and all that. Why would a wizard’s apprentice from a backward town like Errold’s Grove need that stuff?” He shook his head.

So now, after rising before dawn and riding at a swift pace, possible only because they didn’t need scouts to secure the way, they were at the gates of Kelmskeep before noon. This was Darian’s first actual sight of Lord Breon’s manor, and in spite of seeing plenty of wonders in the Vales, he was impressed.

It was a fortified manor only in the sense that Lord Breon’s ancestors had put up some high and formidable stone walls around the manor and its grounds, walls three stories tall with room for men to walk around on top of them, and observation towers at each corner. Inside the walls, the crenelated walls of the manor sat within manicured gardens. They were rather too confined and geometric for Darian’s taste, but as well-tended as any he’d seen in Valdemar, though no match for the gardens of k’Vala.

Lord Breon, his wife, the Lady Ismay, and his son Val were all waiting for them, with a token guard of two bored-looking fellows in Breon’s livery. The Tayledras had taken pains with their costumes, and now Darian was very glad that they had all put out the effort, for it was obvious that the Lord and Lady had dressed as for an important occasion. Lord Breon, whose hair had gone to salt-and-pepper gray, wore a fine saffron linen tunic with bands of embroidery at the cuffs and hem, and his crest embroidered on the breast, with matching breeches. His wife, gowned in the same saffron linen, with a matching headdress, also wore amber-and-silver jewelry; rings on both hands, bracelets, necklace, belt. Val was dressed a bit more casually in a plain brown linen shirt, open at the neck, with a sleeveless leather tunic and trews, but it was clear from his scrubbed face and wet hair that he’d interrupted whatever he’d been doing at the time for a wash-up and change of clothing.

The group rode up to their hosts, and at Snowfire’s nod, dismounted as one. Darian stepped forward to make the introductions.

“My lord,” he said, with a little bow. “May I make you known to the Elders of k’Valdemar Vale - Starfall k’Vala, Snowfire k’Vala, both of whom who you met before when we were at Errold’s Grove, and Snowfire’s lady, Nightwind k’Leshya.”

Lord Breon bowed and waited for Darian to finish the introductions.

“Here also is Ayshen k’Leshya, who represents the hertasi, Tyrsell k’Vala, who speaks for the dyheli, and Hashi k’Vala, who speaks for the kyree.”

The next three members of the greeting party stepped forward and bowed as Darian introduced them, so that Lord Breon would have name and species linked with the appropriate creature. He did not appear to be surprised that these were “animals,” so he must have been forewarned. He bowed to them as well; Tyrsell and Hashi nodded their heads gravely, and Ayshen executed a graceful court bow.

“Kelvren k’Leshya, the Silver Gryphon chief, is out in the north scouting, and you will meet him later. And lastly, I will relate what Tyrsell and Hashi say, if you wish, for they are Mindspeakers. They can speak into your mind, if you would rather - ” Darian paused, and Lord Breon coughed.

“Ah, if you don’t mind, I would prefer for you to translate, young sir,” the older man said. “I’ve had one experience with that, and - well, I’m a plain man, with plain ways, and that was just a bit too uncanny for my taste, personal preference, no offense intended.” He coughed again, giving Darian a penetrating look. “And you are - ?”

“Darian Firkin k’Vala k’Valdemar, my lord,” he replied steadily, keeping his gaze even as well.

“Darian? Darian? Lord and Lady, youngster - I wouldn’t have thought it!” Lord Breon laughed with surprise. “Look at you! We send off a skinny waif that a good wind would knock over, and he comes back the equal of Val! Well met, young man! And welcome home!” To Darian’s surprise, Lord Breon grabbed his hand and pumped it vigorously. “Damme, but it’s good to have you back! We’ ve all felt the lack of a mage sorely since you’ve been gone!”

“Ah - thank you, sir,” Darian replied, rather at a loss as to what else to say. Starfall saved him, stepping smoothly to the fore as Lord Breon let go of Darian’s hand.

“Lord Breon, we are keeping everyone standing here in the sun, and there is much we would like to discuss with you this afternoon. Have we somewhere that we could all adjourn to?”

Starfall placed a slight emphasis on the word “all,” and Lord Breon’s eyes flickered to Hashi and Tyrsell.

“As it’s a fine day, the inner court would be very pleasant and private,” he replied, so quickly that if Darian hadn’t seen his eyes flicker, he’d have thought Lord Breon planned that venue all along. “Val and my Lady will be joining us, of course.”

“Absolutely,” Starfall replied. “The more minds, the better the decisions.”

Val looked startled at that, and Lady Ismay appreciative. Evidently Val was not used to being included in his father’s counsels, and Lady Ismay was all too used to being dismissed as insignificant by menfolk. “If you gentlefolk will come with me, then,” Lord Breon continued, “We’ll settle ourselves in the court, and Ismay can rejoin us after she informs the servants what is toward.” He turned toward the two bored guards. “And you fellows can be about your business. Mind that you tell the Weaponsmaster that I dismissed you on seeing that the wicked Hawkbrothers were not about to fall on us and murder us.”

Both men laughed, as if hearing the tagline of a joke, and sauntered off, leaving the k’Valdemar party to follow Lord Breon.

He guided them along the paths of the precisely manicured garden, around the side of the manor, until they came to a small archway leading deep under the second floor. At the other end of the tunnel, sun and greenery looked very enticing, though Darian noted the series of strong portcullis gates and drop doors, and the murder holes in the ceiling above. Anyone who thought this would be a weak point in the manor’s defenses would have a rude surprise, shortly before coming down with a serious case of death.