Mercedes Lackey: When Darkness Falls

What should he say?

"It has been my honor to command you," Kellen told them, standing in his stirrups and pitching his voice so that his words could be heard clearly. "You have done all I have asked of you, and done it well. I dismiss you now. Leaf and Star go with you."

There was a moment of stillness. And then, as simply as that, they were no longer an army. The Elves broke ranks, heading quietly for the horselines to unsaddle their mounts.

Kellen turned to Redhelwar.

"And I dismiss you, Kellen Knight-Mage. Our work here is over. In a day or two, those you have commanded will go to their homes, when they and their horses have rested. These tents will be struck, and in time, there will be no sign that there was ever an encampment here. Which is as it should be.

"But you have a home to go to now. And you should seek it."

Kellen sighed. "I will. But… It would please me greatly to heat whether you have had any news that I have not heard."

Redhelwar met his gaze steadily. "Vestakia has returned to her home in Sentarshadeen. She is well, and spends much time assisting the Healers. We know not where Jermayan may be. I am sorry."

Kellen bowed his head, turned Firareth, and rode away.

* * * * *

HIS destination was the stables at the House of Sword and Shield.

It seemed like an eternity ago that Jermayan had first brought him here to study with Master Belesharon. He had destroyed the Black Cairn, discovered his own Gift, battled Master Belesharon's Knights in the Teaching Circle and won. He had thought himself well-versed in the ways of the world, a seasoned warrior already.

He'd had no idea.

Kellen found an empty stall and untacked Firareth, brought him a bucket of oats and then brushed him while the destrier ate. Firareth had shed much of his winter coat in the past sennights, but the floor of the stall was still covered with fluffy puffs of tawny horsehair by the time Kellen was finished with his work. When they were both done, he put a hand on Firareth's shoulder and urged the old warrior out into the sunlight. Time for Firareth to take a well-deserved rest, and idle in the sunlight and green grass, turned out to pasture among the other warhorses.

Firareth regarded him curiously.

"Well, go on," Kellen said. "I'll call you if I need you."

Firareth tossed his head and trotted off toward a group of other destriers standing nearby. Kellen wasn't at all surprised to see Valdien among them.

"Well, here we are," Shalkan said.

"Here we are," Kellen echoed.

"You really ought to go home and have a bath," the unicorn observed. "That armor's much too hot for the season. When's the last time you had it off, anyway?"

"I can't remember," Kellen said. Probably at the last village they'd visited, and that had been over a moonturn ago. Well, he took it off at night. Most of it, anyway.

And it was hot.

He reached out a hand — he'd taken off his gauntlets in order to groom Firareth. Shalkan slipped his neck beneath Kellen's palm, and Kellen stroked his fingers through the unicorn's downy coat.

"Do unicorns ever shed?"

Shalkan just snorted, not answering. "Go home," he repeated. "Assuming, of course, that you still know the way. And try not to be surprised if you see unfamiliar faces in the streets. Armethalieh — among others — has sent a delegation of honor to the ceremony."

"Armethalieh?"

Kellen could not have been more stunned if Shalkan had told him that the Demons had sent a delegation.

"The look on your face is priceless."

Kellen had to smile. "Well, Cilarnen did say he was going to change things."

"And he is. And for the better."

"When is… ?"

"The day after tomorrow. If you hadn't gotten back when you did, they were going to send someone out to look for you."

Kellen sighed. "I suppose I'll see you around?"

"I certainly won't leave without telling you, after all we've been through together."

"Thanks."

Kellen turned and started walking up toward the city.

* * * * *

BY the time he reached his house, it was dusk. He saw a few people along the way — only Elves — and he'd never been more grateful for Elven politeness, for nobody stopped him or tried to speak to him. He had, he realized, absolutely no idea of what to do with himself. Oh, there was the ceremony to honor Idalia. He hated the idea of it, but he knew he had to attend, because it was important. But after that?

His Naming Day anniversary would be in a few months, he realized — not that the Elves celebrated such events, he suspected. He'd be eighteen.

It was the beginning of most people's lives, and… not that his was over, but…

He just felt as if he'd already done everything he was supposed to do with his life, and that there was nothing left to do.

He reached the door of his house. To his surprise, there were lanterns outside, and they were lit. He stopped, frowning in confusion.

This was his house. He was certain of it. The Elves certainly wouldn't have given it to someone else.

As he paused on the doorstep, hesitating, the door opened.

A slender elegant Elven man stood there. He looked familiar. As he saw Kellen, his face took on a pleased expression.

"I See you, Kellen. I had expected you long ago. Come, enter. You will be hungry, and weary from the road. All awaits you, just as you would wish it."

Suddenly Kellen realized who this was.

Vertai.

Many moonturns ago, when Idalia had left their house to go and live with Jermayan, Kellen had somehow, suddenly and mysteriously, acquired a sort of servant — or assistant, he had never quite been able to figure out Vertai's relationship to him, and Vertai had been expert at not answering that question. But since — at that time, and probably still — Kellen had possessed no ability to keep his wardrobe in order, his larder stocked, or even cook and clean, Vertai had taken on all of those tasks, generally performing them while Kellen was away receiving his lessons at the House of Sword and Shield.

"I See you, Vertai. And thank you," he added, bowing. "I am grateful for your aid."

He walked inside.

"Your robe is laid out, and I shall prepare tea. Perhaps you would care to suggest a suitable blend."

"I am sure that you will know a tea appropriate to the season."

He walked into his room, surprised at how small it seemed. And not surprised to find several things from his packs already neatly laid out in the appropriate places. Apparently his luggage had preceded him and already been unpacked.

He removed his armor and set it aside. Cleaning it could wait until he bathed. He unbraided his hair — it had gotten very long over the past moonturns — and combed it out. Then he put on the robe that was laid out for him on the bed — relieved to see that for once it wasn't green, but a pleasing fawn color — and matching house-boots and went out into the main room.

The tea — thanks to the Elven "small magics" — was already waiting for him. Kellen picked up the cup and sipped gratefully. The taste was unfamiliar, yet soothing. He remembered a conversation he had once had — it seemed so long ago! — with Dionan and Redhelwar about brewing and blending tea. They'd said the teas of springtime were subtle. This must be one of them.

"I thank you for this, Vertai," he said.

"I shall prepare your evening meal, and then I shall depart to my own home. Tomorrow, you must expect a visit from Tengitir. Your robes for the ceremony are prepared, but they will need a final fitting."

Kellen tried not to sigh. If he'd needed anything to convince him that the war was over and everything was swiftly returning to normal, a visit from the Elven seamstress who specialized in clothing for the non-Elven was definitely it.