Magic's Promise Read Free Page A

Valdemar.
    I wish he was as right about that as he thinks he is; I still think it's the other thing.
    The stone was so cool and soothing to his feet; it eased the ache in them that was the legacy of too many hours-days-weeks-when he had slept fully clothed, ready to defend the Border in the blackest, bleakest hours of the night.
    That reminder brought bleaker thoughts. Every time he came back to Haven it was with the knowledge that there would be fewer familiar faces to greet him. So many friends gone - not that I ever had many to begin with. Lancir, Mardic and Donni, Regen, Dorilyn. Wulgra, Kat, Pretor. All gone. Not many left besides Tran. There's - Jays. Savil. Andy, and he's a Healer. Erdane, Breda, a couple of the other Bards. How can I be anything but solitary? Every year I'm more alone.
    True to Tantras' promise, Vanyel found an overflowing plate waiting for him beside the pile of letters. It held a pair of meat pies, soft white cheese, and apples, and beside the generous plate of food was an equally generous pitcher of wine.
    I'd better be careful with that stuff. I'm not used to it anymore, and I bet it'll go straight to my head.
    He stifled a groan as he sagged down into the empty chair, poured a goblet of wine, then picked up the topmost letter. He broke the seal on it, gritted his teeth, and started in.
    To Herald-Mage Vanyel from Lord Withen Ashkevron of Forst Reach: My dear Son -
    Vanyel nearly dropped the letter in surprise, and reread the salutation to be certain that his eyes hadn't played tricks on him.
    Great good gods. “My dear Son?” I haven't been “dear,” much less “Son” for-years! I wonder what happened -
    He took a long breath and continued.
    Though you might find it difficult to believe, I am pleased and grateful that you are going to be able to find the time for an extended visit home. Despite our differences, and some hard words between us, I am very proud of my Herald-Mage son. I may not care for some aspects of your life, but I respect your intelligence and good sense. I confess, Vanyel, that your old father has need of some of that good sense. I need your help in dealing with your brother Mekeal.
    Vanyel nodded to himself with cynicism. Now we come to it.
    He has made some excessively poor judgments since I turned over the management of some of the lands to him, but this spring he has outdone himself. He's taken the cattle - good, solid income-producing stock - off Long Meadow and installed sheep down there instead!
    Vanyel chuckled. Whoever Withen had roped into being his scribe on this letter had reproduced his father's tones perfectly. He could feel the indignation rising from the page.
    And as for that so-called “ Shin'a'in warsteed” he bought - and a more ill-tempered, ill-favored beast I never saw - the less said, the better! All these years I spent in building up the Forst Reach line - and he'll undo it all with one unmanageable stud! I feel sure he'll listen to you; you're a Herald - the King himself trusts your judgment. The boy has me ready to throw him down the blamed well!
    Vanyel shifted a little and reached for a wedge of cheese. This letter was proving to be a lot more enlightening than he'd had any reason to expect.
    This is no time for Meke to be mucking about; not when there may be trouble across the Border. Maybe you remember that alliance marriage between Deveran Remoerdis of Lineas and Ylyna Mavelan of Baires? The one that brought a halt to the Linean-Baires war, and that brought that minstrel through here that you were so taken with as a boy? It doesn't seem to be working out. There've been rumors for years that the oldest child was a bastard - now Deveran seems to have given substance to those rumors; he's disinherited the boy in favor of the next in line. In some ways I can't blame him too much; even if the lad didn't look so much like his uncle-I've seen both the boy and the man, and the resemblance is uncanny-the rumors alone would have been enough to make