Angry Boy Chapter 1

Bredin Kase sat on a log reading about King Roald's adventures among the Shin'a'in. His toes dangled in the water of the Terilee, which flowed near the road at Bredin's back.

This was Bredin's favorite spot on a Rest Day. Here, he could read in the sun and, like most Valdemaran children, daydream of becoming a Herald, travelling far and wide like Herald King Roald with his faithful Companion to bear him on his adventures.

Here, too, on the road just outside his home town of Bransat, Bredin could watch for travellers on the road, particularly Heralds. The town was on the main road from Haven to the County seat in Poldara, which was the name both of the County and its capital. Bransat was about three quarters of the distance as one went from Haven to Poldara. Count Wyeth Poldara had a summer manor on the hill overlooking Bransat, so young Bredin saw plenty of Lords and Ladies.

Heralds passed this way almost daily on their way to and from their circuits. This was the main reason Bredin waited here. The Heralds usually travelled fast. Their tireless Companions could outpace any horse and keep their pace for days. Whenever one passed, Bredin would jump to his feet to catch a fleeting glimpse of the poised, confident Heralds and their breath-taking white Companions.

What Bredin loved most was that, even in their hurried travels, the Heralds would smile and wave in response to Bredin's own waving hands.

Which was more than one could say for most of the nobles. A few noblemen would nod as Bredin touched his forelock, most would ignore him utterly unless Bredin did not give obeisance, in which case Bredin would be lucky to escape with a dressing down.

A few others, such as Lord Kensie Poldara, the Count's heir, would take time to taunt and harass Bredin if they could. Bredin heartily wished Lord Kensie would simply ignore him.

Bredin heard the voices and hoofbeats on the road. He glanced up to see Count Wyeth and another Lord riding towards him. A score of yards behind the two, a train of others followed. The other Lord was an extremely handsome man with a very distinguished appearance. From the way Count Wyeth deferred to him, the other man must be very important.

As the two approached, Bredin doffed his cap and touched his forelock. The strange lord nodded absently at Bredin while he listened to Count Wyeth.

"... unbelievable, Orthallen. A Karsite among the Heralds?" Lord Wyeth was saying. "Has Sendar lost his mind? How could he allow such a thing? The man is a spy. There is no other explanation."

Lord Orthallen turned to the Count. "Sendar and Talamir are adamant. The man is now in the Collegium. There is no way to force him out."

"As Weaponsmaster-Second, no less." Count Wyeth spluttered. "The perfect spot to spy on the court when they come to practice."

"Be that as it may. Remember that HE is now where we can spy on him. This Albrach – or whatever his barbaric name is – will be under our eyes at all times." Lord Orthallen's voice was smooth and relaxed, as if the issue meant nothing to him. Somehow, the man's tone grated on Bredin.

Count Wyeth's spotted Bredin. "My Lord, these are privy matters…" He flicked his eye in Bredin's direction.

Lord Orthallen laughed. "Nonsense, Wyeth. We talk of nothing but the plain word about the Court. Besides, I'll bet the boy likes the idea of a Karsite in the Palace no more than we do. Watch."

The two lords halted near Bredin. Lord Orthallen looked Bredin over. The boy's appearance was ordinary with no particular distinguishing features: Brown hair, brown eyes, oval face, handsome enough in a boyish way, but not striking the way his own nephew Kris would be.

He waved the boy over. Bredin approached the two lords and stood a few feet from their horses.

"What is your name, boy?" Lord Orthallen asked.

Before Bredin could speak, Count Wyeth replied. "His name is Bredin Kase, he's the son of a leatherworker and saddler in Bransat, just ahead of us."

Lord Orthallen held up his hand to silence the Count. "How old are you, boy?"

Bredin twisted his cap in his hands. "I will be eight in Corn Moon, Milord."

"Not yet eight? You are tall for your age, Bredin."

"Thank you, Milord." Bredin replied, nervous to be speaking to such a powerful man. Powerful he must be, to speak so casually of the King.

"Well spoken, too." Lord Orthallen smiled. Again, Bredin felt unease at the Lord's speech.

"So, Bredin. What do you think of a Karsite in Haven?" Lord Orthallen asked.

"I don't know, My Lord. Isn't Karse our enemy? It doesn't seem right." Centuries of warfare with the Kingdom to the South had imbued a visceral fear of Karse in every Valdemaran.

"Exactly!" Lord Orthallen smiled broadly. He turned back to Count Wyeth. "See. Even the common people know that this doesn't make sense."

Bredin stared up at the two Lords, whose horses now began to walk away. They did not even bother to dismiss Bredin, who stared after them.

"Sendar says the man was Chosen by a Companion." Lord Wyeth's words drifted back to Bredin.

Lord Orthallen snorted derisively. "Really, Wyeth. I don't know why it is that this Kingdom gives such deference to a bunch of horses."

Bredin opened his mouth, ready to protest. Companions were not horses. Everyone knew that.

"Got something to say, Boiling Bredin?" Lord Kensie taunted Bredin.

Bredin looked up at the Count's heir, who sat on his chestnut gelding. The horse's shoulder was just a handwidth from Bredin, forcing him to crane his neck to face the young lord.

Bredin flushed. "No Milord." He said softly.

"What was that, boy? Speak up." Kensie Poldara grinned down. Behind Kensie, some of the lordling's friends grinned as well, enjoying the game of baiting Bredin.

Bredin felt his anger rising. Lord Kensie was only four years older than Bredin. That was not enough difference in Bredin's mind for Lord Kensie to call him 'boy.'

"Kensie. Leave it." Count Wyeth called back to his son, forestalling another round of Kensie's tormenting Bredin.

Lord Kensie looked up. "Yes, father." He said. The young lord spurred his gelding. The horse's shoulder slammed into Bredin, sending him flying.

The young lord and his friends laughed as they trotted away.

Bredin lay in the dirt of the road until the last of the train had passed and the hoofbeats faded in the distance. He would not cry, he vowed to himself.

Another sound drew Bredin's head up: A chiming hoofbeat and ringing bridle bells. A Herald was coming!

Bredin scrambled to his feet just as the brilliant white Companion appeared around the bend, coming from the direction of Bransat. The Herald sat easily on the Companion, not even holding the reins while she sliced a pear.

Bredin held his breath as the Companion cantered towards him. He was not even aware that he stood in the middle of the road until the Companion halted directly in front of him.

The Herald looked down at him. Her ash blond hair was short and her strong face was almost masculine. Her smile was warm and friendly. "Is there a problem, lad? Is that why you are standing in the middle of the road?" The Herald's voice was rough, but welcoming.

Bredin looked down, suddenly aware of where he was standing. He blushed and jumped aside. "Ah, no Lady Herald. I'm sorry. I was watching and I didn't mean to stop you and I just like to see Heralds and Companions and I was just standing here and didn't know I was in the way and please don't be mad at me for standing in front of you…" Bredin's gush of words trailed out.

Although Bredin had stepped aside, the Herald did not go on her way. She smiled broadly. "You did nothing wrong, lad. I liked to look at Heralds when I was your age, too. What is your name?"

Bredin touched his cap. "I am Bredin Kase, Milady Herald."

The Herald's lips twitched when Bredin said 'Milady'. "Just 'Herald', Bredin. Herald Ylsa at your service. There are no 'My Ladies' or 'Milords' among the Heralds, except for King Sendar and Princess Selenay."

"Yes, Mi- Herald Ylsa." Bredin stared at the Companion, who stared back at him with its blue eyes.

"Felara says it is ok to touch her."

Bredin reached up. His hand, trembling, hesitated an inch from the Companion's face Felara snorted and rubbed her cheek against his hand. Bredin gasped at the silken feel of the hide. "She is so beautiful." He said.

As Bredin stroked Felara, Ylsa looked him over. She noted the dust on his clothes. "You look a little worse for wear, youngling. Did you have a run in with that pack of highborn?" She nodded her head in the direction Count Wyeth had gone.

Bredin looked up at her. "It was nothing, Herald Ylsa." Bredin did not want to give Kensie or his friends a reason to 'get even.'

Ylsa looked at Bredin for a long moment. "Hmph. I'll wager it was more than 'nothing.' I'll not press you for details, but you stay clear of that young snot Kensie Poldara – don't tell anyone I said that – he is trouble."

Bredin ardently wished Kensie would stay away from him, but said nothing.

Seeing the boy's reluctance to speak, Ylsa had a shrewd idea what he was thinking. She left the matter. "Well, Bredin, I must be off. The King will probably have another urgent message to go out as soon as I get back to the Collegium, so I'd better get to it. I think we'll meet again sometime."

As the Companion began to move, Herald Ylsa called back to Bredin. "And Bredin, Felara says to tell you that you are right. Companions are not horses."

Bredin laughed when she said that. He waved at Herald Ylsa until she and Felara were out of sight.

He certainly hoped he'd see Herald Ylsa again. He vowed he would haunt the road every spare minute until she came this way again.

Bredin went back to his perch by the river and picked up his book.