Storm Warning - Mercedes Lackey [53]
“Headache better?” Rubrik asked, as the horse-boy led Trenor up to Karal and held him so that Karal could mount easily.
“Yes, sir, thank you,” Karal was able to reply, with a smile.
“Good. I get a touch of one myself in these wizard-storms. They say most people with any hint of mind-magic do.” He gazed searchingly at Karal, who had no idea of what he was talking about. Karal shrugged his incomprehension.
“Yes, but how does that explain my poor, aching joints?” Ulrich put in, with a faint smile. “I certainly do not hear thoughts with my knees!”
Rubrik laughed heartily. “A good question, and one that probably proves that, as always, the nebulous ‘they’ are probably as foolish as the things ‘they’ are reputed to say!”
On that cheerful note, he led them out to the road, heading north again, under a brilliant sun.
That seemed a good enough omen to start, and as the morning wore on, Karal managed to dismiss the rest of his lingering fears as absolutely groundless. The Herald and Ulrich must have shared a great deal of personal information after Karal went to bed, for now they acted like a pair of real friends.
Huh, he thought, with astonishment, for Ulrich had never been friends with anyone that Karal had ever noticed. But there it was, as they rode side by side, there was an easiness between them that could not be anything but friendship. Ulrich respected him as soon as we met—and after that, there was a kind of—fellowship, maybe? Something like that, anyway; like he’d have with, oh, one of the Army Captains. Someone who deserved respect and was an interesting and intelligent person, a man he had things in common with. But this is different. I’m not sure how, but it’s different. Ulrich seems happier, more open, and the tone of his voice is warmer than it usually is around other people.
He found that Rubrik was taking pains to see that Karal was included in conversation as the day wore on. And somewhat to his astonishment, he realized that he had begun to actually relax around the Herald. If anything, Rubrik reminded him of his favorite uncle, the one who’d been a guard with a merchant caravan and had a wealth of tales about strange places and the wonderful things he had seen.
Rubrik was evidently in the mood to tell some of his own tales this morning, for he began to describe some of the other “foreigners” that they would meet once they reached the capital of Haven and the Court of Queen Selenay. Some of them, Karal would not have believed under any other circumstances, but Rubrik had absolutely no reason to lie and every reason to tell them the whole and complete truth.
But if he was telling the whole and complete truth—some of the other envoys weren’t human at all....
Ulrich didn’t act at all surprised, though, as the Herald described some of the strangest creatures Karal had ever heard of. The Hawkbrothers were bad enough, with their white hair, intelligent birds, and outlandish clothing. But then he described the gryphons—Treyvan, Hydona, and their two youngsters. It was the little ones that made Karal decide that the Herald was not trying to play some kind of elaborate trick on them. Why make up that kind of detail if it was only a jest? The adult gryphons would have been more than enough.
“I’d been warned,” Ulrich said laconically, when Rubrik ended his description. “After all, several of our Priests actually worked with these gryphons. Including one young lady who learned a valuable lesson in—hmm—”
“Cooperation?” Rubrik suggested with a wry smile.
“I was thinking, humility, but that will do.” Ulrich’s eyes actually twinkled. “Karal, you’ll remember her, you were schooled with her. Gisell.”
Karal’s mouth