Read Valdemar 06 - [Exile 01] - Exile’s Honor for Free Online

Alberich’s waking time with him. There was a touch on his chest, where there were no bandages other than the ones holding his cracked ribs in place. “Sir, I am going to take off the bandages on your eyes, and leave them off. The skin there is healed enough that you needn’t have them on anymore.”
    â€œI understand,” he said, stumbling over the foreign words. The Healer moved him as gently as could be, propped him up with cushions, and took off the bandages. Alberich blinked, and squinted in the sunlight, taking his first proper look at the room he’d been in for—well, he didn’t know how long.
    And now that he was thinking clearly, the very first thing he felt was a smoldering resentment.
    A shaggy-haired man in stained and well-worn green robes was coiling up bandages at the foot of the bed, but Alberich had very little interest in him, or in the room itself at the moment. It was the other occupant of the room, the one sitting right beside him, that captured his attention.
    This was a Demon-Rider.
    :This is Talamir, the King’s Own Herald,: Kantor corrected gently, speaking into his mind for the first time since he’d awakened.
    Alberich’s jaw tightened, but he tried to look at the man, rather than react to him. What he saw was a tall, a very tall, thin man with graying brown hair, perhaps forty or fifty years old, if Alberich’s judgment was any good. His was a careworn, lean face, overlaid with gentle good humor, but with a strong chin that suggested a stubborn streak, and a determination it would not be wise to invoke if you intended to quarrel with him. And, of course, he wore that dreaded white uniform, the emblem of the enemy—a more elaborate version than Alberich thought prudent or practical for a fighting man—
    :Those are Formal Whites. Talamir has just come from a Council session at the King’s side. Defending your presence here in Valdemar, in Haven, in the ranks of the Heralds themselves, may I add.:
    Alberich refused to be distracted from his careful scrutiny.
    The uniform— I would never don anything like this, he told himself fiercely—a silver-laced, white-velvet tunic, with silver embroidery at the hems, over a heavy white samite shirt with wide sleeves caught in deep cuffs at the wrists, and white satin breeches. A wide, white leather belt ornamented with hammered silver supported a dagger in a matching sheath. He’d have called it foppish, except that it wasn’t. But he could not imagine himself ever wearing anything so extravagant.
    The fabric alone, if sold, could feed a family for a year—
    :Ah. And, of course, the nobles of Karse, the wealthy merchants, the ranking Captains, and above all, the Voices of the Sunlord dress and live so very austerely,: came the unwelcome reminder.
    â€œWell, you have been here some two weeks, sir,” Talamir said, his hazel eyes scrutinizing Alberich just as closely as Alberich was examining him. “I’m sure you have been wondering.”
    â€œWondering, yes,” Alberich replied, giving away nothing, conceding nothing, offering nothing. Talamir sighed.
    :You could be more gracious.:
    â€œAlberich—yes, we know what your name is—you must know that my Taver has been talking virtually nonstop to your Kantor, and what Kantor knows about you, so do I.” Talamir’s eyes became very penetrating. “I know very well that you have a good command of our tongue now, and furthermore, your Kantor can easily explain anything you don’t understand immediately. I should prefer not to spend this entire first interview fencing with you, if you please.”
    Well, that gave him the opening he’d been looking for. “ My Kantor, it is?” he asked resentfully. “And when was there asking on my part, for this Choosing, this so-called honor? ”
    Talamir shrugged. “You could be dead right now,” he pointed out. “Whether you consider