Read Arrow’s Flight for Free Online

her lack of experience, should it be extended past the normal year-and-a-half? Could Elspeth’s education be rushed? What should she be tutored in besides the normal curriculum of the Herald’s Collegium? Did she feel ready for her new position as Heir? And on and on...
    From most of the Councilors Talia only received a well-intentioned (if irritating) eagerness to help “the children” (and she cursed—not for the first time— her slight stature that made her seem barely an adolescent). But from others—
    Lord Orthallen, one of Selenay’s closest advisors (as he had been to her father) regarded both of them with a cool, almost cold, gaze. And Talia felt very like a prime specimen of some unusual beetle on the dissecting table. She got no emotional impressions from him at all; she never had. That was profoundly disturbing for one whose Gift was Empathy— and even more disturbing was the vague feeling that he was not pleased that Elspeth had at last been Chosen.
    From Bard Hyron, speaker for the Bardic Circle, she got a distinct feeling that all this was happening far too quickly. And that not enough caution was being exercised. And that he didn’t quite trust her.
    Lord Gartheser’s feelings were of general displeasure over the whole affair, but she couldn’t pinpoint why. There was also a faint overtone of disappointment; he was related to Kerroc, one of the three other contenders for the position. Could that be all, though? Or was there something deeper in his motivation?
    Lady Wyrist was downright annoyed, but why, Talia couldn’t fathom. It might have been simply that she was afraid that Talia would favor her own relations, the Holderkin, who lived in the area Wyrist spoke for. She could hardly know that there was small chance of that!
    Orthallen was the one who bothered her most, but as the meeting broke up, she knew she would mention this to no one. She had nothing of fact to report; and she and Orthallen had bad blood between them over his treatment (and near-expulsion) of her friend Skif from the Collegium. She knew better than to give Orthallen so powerful a weapon if he was an enemy as to seem to be holding a grudge. Instead she smiled sweetly and thanked him for his good wishes. Let him think her an innocent idiot. Meanwhile she would make sure to have one eye on him.
    But soon, very soon now, she would be gone, on her year-and-a-half internship, and that would take her entirely out of the current intrigues at Court. It would also make it impossible for her to deal with any of it. If Gartheser, Orthallen, or any of the others had deeper schemes, there would be no one near Elspeth who could detect the shadow of the scheming.
    She would be gone—and who would watch them then?
Two
    Three weeks to the investiture. Only three weeks, but they seemed like three years, at least to Talia.
    There was an elaborate ceremony of oaths and bindings to memorize, but that wasn’t the worst of it. Talia’s main function at this particular rite would be apparently to perform the original duties of Heralds, the duties they had held in the days before Valdemar founded his kingdom, to announce each dignitary by name and all ranks and titles before escorting him or her to the foot of the Throne.
    This was, of course, the lesser of her twin functions. In reality the more important would be using her empathic Gift to assess—and, one hoped, neutralize—any danger to the Queen and Heir from those about to come within striking distance of them. The full High Court ceremonial costumes included a wide variety of instruments of potential mayhem and assassination.
    There was one small problem with this; Talia was farmbred, not highborn. The elaborate tabards of state that a highborn child could read as easily as a book were little more than bewildering patterns of gold and embroidery to her eyes. And she would be dealing with nobles who were very touchy over their titles, and apt to take affront if even the least and littlest