Silence; Jervis stared at him with anger mixed with shame, but it was the shame that won out. “Because I couldn't admit I was wrong,” Jervis replied, subdued and flushing a dark red. “Because I couldn't admit it to myself or anybody else. Couldn't believe a kid had come up with the answer I couldn't find. So I told Withen you'd cheated. Half believed it myself; couldn't see how you'd've touched me, otherwise. But I - I've had a lot of time t' think about it. Years, since you left. An' you turnin' out the way you did, a Herald an' all - shit, anybody turned out like that wouldn't cheat. Came to me after a while I never caught you in a lie, neither. Came to me that the only lies bein' told were the ones I was tellin'. Then when I started t' tell myself the truth, began t' figure out how close I came t' breakin' more'n your arm.”

He hung his head, and he wouldn't look at Vanyel. And Vanyel found his anger and bitterness flowing away from him like water from melting ice.

“Boy, I was wrong, and I am sorry for it,” he said quietly. “I told Withen the truth a while back, when they sent you out on the Karsite Border; told him everything I just told you. He didn't know what they was sendin' you to, but I did. Damn, I - if anythin' had happened, an' I hadn't told him -”

He shuddered. “I told him more things, best I could. Told him that he's got a damned fine son, an' that there have been plenty of shieldmated fighters I'd'a been glad t' have at m'back, an' I'd “ye trusted with m' last coin and firstborn kid - an' just as many lads whose tastes ran t' wench-in' that I'd've just as soon set up against a tree an' shot. Told him if he let that stand between him an' you, he was a bigger fool than me. Did m' best for you, boy.

Gonna keep on with it, too. Figure if I tell him enough, he might start believin' me. An' Van - I'm damned sorry it took me so long t' figure out how wrong I was.”

There was profound silence then, while Vanyel waited for his thoughts and emotions to settle into coherency. Jervis was as silent as a man of rock, eyes fixed on the floor. The cricket in the salle broke off its singing, and Vanyel could hear the thud of hooves and sharp commands, faint and muffled, as Tarn took one of the young stallions around on the lunge just outside.

Finally, everything within him crystallized into a new pattern -

Vanyel took Jervis' mug from limp fingers and refilled it. But instead of giving it back, he offered the armsmaster his own outstretched hand.

The former mercenary looked up at him in surprise, one of the first times Vanyel had ever seen the man register surprise, and began to smile; tentatively at first, then with real feeling.

He took Vanyel's hand in both of his, and swallowed hard. “Thank you, boy,” he said hoarsely. “I wasn't sure you'd - you're a better man than - oh, hell -”

Vanyel shrugged, and handed him his refilled mug. “Let's call it truce. I was a brat. And if you hadn't done what you did, I wouldn't be a Herald.” And I wouldn't have had 'Lendel.

“Listen,” Jervis said, after first clearing his throat. “About Medren - that boy has no future here, a blind man could see that. What with all the right-born boys - an' I couldn't see that one bein' happy as anybody's dogsbody squire, you know? Figured the only chance for him was the way I came up; mere armsman. Lord Kernos knows he's got all the brains t' make officer right quick. So that's what I was tryin' to work him to.”

“There was music.”

“Yeah, his other shot was maybe music. I'd heard him, boy sounded all right, but what the hell do I know about music? Not a damn thing. But I figured, I figured I could make a damned fine armsman out of him, what with his reactions an' his brains an' speed an' all, if I could just figure out what they'd taught you over to Haven. Been

tryin' - damn if I haven't been tryin'. Could not seem t'get it worked out, an' - shit, Van, hate t' use th' boy like a set of pells, but it seemed like th' only way t' work it out was to work it out usin' him. But,” Jervis held up a knotted finger, “just on th' chance th' boy was good at the plunkin' I been damned careful of his hands. Damned careful.”

Vanyel's arm began to ache, and he put his mug down to rub it. “I never did get all the feeling back,” he said, still resentful, still feeling the last burn of the anger he'd nursed all these years. “If things hadn't turned out the way they did - even being careful you could have hurt him, and ruined his chance at music.”

Jervis visibly stifled an angry retort, but in the face of Vanyel's own anger, winced and looked away. “Can't undo what I did, boy,'' he said, after an uncomfortable silence. “Nobody can. But the least I can do is keep from makin' the same mistake twice. An' I was tryin'. I swear it.”

Vanyel sat on his anger.

Jervis gulped his wine. “Truth now, between you an' me. Were you any good? Did I -”

“No,” Vanyel said honestly. “I didn't have the Gift. And it's taken a while, but I learned how to make up for the lost feeling. You didn't take anything away from me, not really.”

Jervis' shoulders sagged a little. “How about the bastard? Medren, I mean.”

“I'm sponsoring him into the Bardic Collegium. He's better than I was at fifteen, and he's got the Bardic Gift.” Vanyel nodded at Jervis' swift intake of breath. “Exactly; he'll make a full Bard.”

The memory suddenly sprang up, unprompted, of Medren and his succession of bruises - just bruises. Nasty ones, some of them, but not broken bones, not even sprains. No worse than Vanyel had seen his brothers and cousins sport, back in the long ago. And Vanyel began to look a little closer at those memories, while Jervis stared at him askance. Finally he began to smile.

“It just occurred to me - Medren. With a full Gift. He has been manipulating me, the little demon, using that Gift of his. Doing it just fine, too, and with no Bardic

training. Given that, I'd say he's going to be outstanding, and I think I'd better have a little word with him on the subject of ethics!”

Jervis chuckled. “I don't think it's a - purpose; at least, I don't think he knows he shouldn't. He's another one that's good at bottom. An' let me tell you, even without havin' a decent style, he's no slouch with a blade!”

Vanyel cut them both more bread and cheese, and reached for the wine to refill both mugs. He leaned back against the wall, with a feeling that something that had been festering for a long time had begun to heal. He didn't like Jervis, quite. Not yet, anyway. But he was beginning to see why Jervis had done what he'd done, and beginning to respect the courage that made the armsmaster admit - if belatedly - that he was wrong.

“You know,” Vanyel said slowly, “he'll be taught blade right along with music; Bards end up finding themselves in some fairly unpleasant places from time to time. They’re in Valdemar's service no less than Heralds are, so being handy with a sword surely can't hurt. Hellfire, you should have seen Bard Chadran in his prime; he'd have been a match for both of us together!”

Jervis looked up with interest. “Chadran - that the one that was s'pposed t' have got picked up by bandits, got 'em t' trust 'im, then fought himself an' a handful of prisoners loose?”

“That's the one, only he went in on Elspeth's request.”

When he finished that story, Jervis managed to coax the Shadow Stalker tale out of him, after half the bottle was gone. Most people never heard the real story. It took half a bottle before he was ready to face those memories. Before that tale was over and the bottle was empty, Vanyel had decided he had an ally he could count on. He was certain of it after Jervis' final words when Vanyel got up to leave.

“Never understood Heralds before,” the armsmaster admitted. “Never could figure out what all the fuss and feathers was about. Didn't really have any notion of what you people did, until them stories about you started up. Never paid much attention t' who the hero was before, then I started noticin' that in the Valdemar songs most of the heroes turn out t' be Heralds. Somethin' else I started noticin' - most of the Heralds ended up comin' down with a serious case of dead in them stories. You come pretty close to it, a time or two, eh?”