Mercedes Lackey - Exile's Honor

Kantor heartily approved, which eased his conscience somewhat. And truth to tell, it felt very good to ride down into the city without wondering which persona he should don, if there was going to be any trouble that night, or whether he was going to have to explain himself to the constables and City Guard again . He felt relaxed, as he seldom did, as Kantor stopped inside the walls of the temple's outer court and waited for him to dismount.

On a pleasant evening like this one, he had expected the court to be full of the Sunlord's worshipers, and indeed it was. As the priests intended, the court was serving its function as the neighborhood gathering place. Older children who had not yet gone to bed played games along one wall, a number of folk were using the "free" lantern and torchlight to read by, sitting at the benches on the opposite wall to where the children played. There were little knots of gossip and courtship, awkward flirtation and some friendly rivalry, and even a pair of old men playing a game of castles on a portable board. Alberich wouldn't have been surprised to see a hot pie seller there, though no doubt, if one had appeared, Geri would have run him off. There were some things that were just a shade too undignified for the forecourt of a temple.

None of them paid any attention to Alberich. He was now a fixture at the temple—though he doubted that anyone knew him for the Queen's Champion, in his dark gray leathers. They probably thought he was just someone's private guard. Anyone could have a white horse, after all, and what would the Weaponsmaster of Herald's Collegium be doing down here, in this little neighborhood temple, anyway? Those with Karsite blood took great pride in the fact that one of their own was a Herald, but no one would ever dream that a Herald would come here to worship the Sunlord, however devout he was.

People, he was coming to think, mostly saw what they expected to see. And if they saw something that ran counter to their expectations, they tended to rationalize it away.

Useful, that, for a man in his position, though he would never trust his life to that principle. People were also likely to figure out the one thing you wanted to keep hidden from them at the worst possible moment.

The door to the temple lay open to catch the coolness of the night breezes, and he simply walked in. And stopped to stare.

For there was Geri, and around him was a gaggle of children, one of which he recognized as the little Karsite girl who had talked to him on the night of the rescue. They were all wearing a version of the warm yellow tunics and trews worn by novices in the service of Vkandis, brand new, and a bit oversized. And they all acted as if they were completely at home here.

Geri was giving them a Valdemaran lesson, with the flock of them tucked out of the way in the side chapel used for long vigils and private meditations. Alberich realized after a moment of complete blankness, that this little temple had taken in all of the Karsite children that had been taken by the Tedrels. And if the hour seemed rather late for lessons, well, that might be the case for anyone other than a Temple of Vkandis—the Sunlord had rites and rituals going on from the dawn to sunset, and only after darkness fell was Geri going to be free to give these little ones the language class they needed before they could hope to learn anything else.

I'll have to ask Myste if she can get down here and give him a hand, he thought, watching them all. I wonder if there are any other Karsite exiles who've got the time to help? Geri won't push it, but Myste will

He quickly moved back into the shadows, lest he disturb them, and watched. And felt something extraordinary unfold inside him. Something so extraordinary, that at first, he didn't recognize it for what it was.

Happiness. Pure, unalloyed happiness. Of all of the things he had done or had a hand in doing, this was the one that had brought nothing but good for all concerned, with nothing whatsoever to regret or wish he had done differently.

The children responded to Geri with all of the warmth that he would have expected; Geri was one of the kindest souls in the world, and children liked him even when he had to discipline them for something. But these children in particular were blossoming for the young priest like flowers in the sun—already he could tell a vast difference between the too-eager, too-helpful, anxious, pinch-faced little things they had been, and the bright-faced creatures they were now. It was wonderful. This was how Karsite children should look. And even as he reveled in the pleasure of knowing that he had had a key hand in making it possible for them to be here, he also knew a moment of sadness at the fact that even in Karse, most Karsite children were not this free, not this happy....

Sunlord, gentle giver of light, make it possible for them, too —

A small hand tugged at his sleeve, and he turned and looked down.

"I heard you were looking for me?" said a very small, very red-haired boy, with amazing blue eyes that looked oddly old in such a young face.

For a moment, Alberich stared at him, trying to work out what on earth the child could mean. Then it struck him.

"You are the boy they called Kantis?" he asked.

The child nodded. "And you're Alberich, the White Rider, the one who was promised to us. Right?"

"Well—" he squatted down on his heels, so that he could look the boy straight in the eye. "I would say that it depends on just who was doing the promising. And where he got his information."

The child grinned at him. "It would be me that was doing the promising, but the promise wasn't mine , it was the Prophecy. And it all came out of the Writ, of course. I know the Writ very well!" He struck a pose, and began to recite. "Alcar, Canto Seven, Verse Nine— And the children shall be reft from the people, and they shall suffer in the hands of the infidel, but those that keep faith shall endure and the riders of light shall redeem them. Porphyr, Canto Twelve, Verse Twenty-two— And lo! in the moment of despair, I shall be with you, I shall guide you, as you were a child, out of the camp of iniquity and into the hands of the saviors, and great spirits of white shall succor you. Werthe, Canto Fifteen, Verse Forty-nine— And a rider of the purest white spirit shall—"

Alberich held up his hand to stop the flow of words. "I would say that you do, indeed, know the Writ very well," he admitted gravely. "But I am not at all certain that there is anything in those verses that I would recognize as being part of the—the Prophecy."

He was going to add, if there ever was a Prophecy , except that what this child had done, and the hope he had given the others, the way he had organized them and kept them going—how had that been so wrong? Even if it had all been a childish tale concocted out of the scraps of Writ he knew, the tales the Valdemaran children babbled, and his fertile imagination, it had essentially saved them.

"But I suppose it depends on how you interpret them," he finished instead. And smiled. "I wanted to meet you primarily because I wanted to thank you for helping all of the others so much."

The boy looked at him unblinking, but with a smile playing about his lips. "Isn't that what we're all supposed to do? Help each other? No matter who we are and where we come from? That's what the Writ says, in the Great Laws."

Where had the child learned that? Not from any of the Sunpriests that Alberich had served.... "Absolutely right." He stood up, and gazed down at the child. "You are a very remarkable fellow."

"And so are you, Alberich of Karse, Herald of Valdemar." The child's voice suddenly deepened, and seemed to fill his ears, his mind, and his world shrank to the boy's young face and the voice that resonated all through him. He couldn't move. And he didn't want to.... "A man of such conscience and honor is a remarkable man indeed; so remarkable, that it would seem that his prayers reach a little farther than most."