Read Online Arrow’s Flight by Mercedes Lackey - Free Book Online

on top of a copy of a religious text; we used the half-finished temple down near the river because we’d met too often around here. A bit cold for my liking, though I’m told those currently keeping company enjoyed keeping each other warm.”
    Talia smothered giggles as they slipped outside.
    The windows of the tackshed had been tightly shuttered so that no light leaked out to betray the revelry within. Both fireplaces had been lighted against the slight chill in the air and as the main source of illumination. The three of them slipped in as quiedy as possible to avoid disturbing the entertainment in progress—a tale being told with some skill by a middle-aged Herald whose twin streaks of gray, one at each temple, stood out stardingly in the firelight.
    “It’ll be quiet tonight,” Kris whispered in Talia’s ear. “Probably because the Palace revel turned into such a romp. Our revels tend to be the opposite of the official ones.”
    Heralds were sprawled over the floor of the tackshed in various comfortable poses, all giving rapt attention to the storyteller. There seemed to be close to seventy of them; the most Talia had ever seen together at one time. Apparently every Herald within riding distance had arranged to be here for the fealty ceremony. The storyteller concluded his tale to the sighs of satisfaction of those around him. Then, with the spell of the story gone, many of them leaped up to greet the newcomers, hugging the two men or grasping their hands with warm and heart-felt affection. Since they were uniformly strangers to Talia, she shrank back shyly into the shadows by the door.
    “Whoa, there—slow down, friends!” Dirk chuckled, extricating himself from the press of greeters. “We’ve brought someone to meet all of you.”
    He searched the shadows, found Talia, and reaching out a long arm, pulled her fully into the light. “You all know we’ve finally got a true Queen’s Own again—and here she is!”
    Before anyone could move to greet her, there was a whoop of joy from the far side of the room, and a hurtling body bounced across it, vaulting over several Heralds who laughed, ducked, and protected their heads with their arms. The leaper reached Talia and picked her up bodily, lifting her high into the air, and setting her down with an enthusiastic kiss.
    “Skif?” she gasped.
    “Every inch of me!” Skif crowed.
    “B-but—you’re so tall!” When he’d gotten his Whites, Skif hadn’t topped her by more than an inch or two. Now he could easily challenge Dirk’s height.
    “I guess something in the air of the south makes things grow, ‘cause I sure did last year,” Skif chuckled. “Ask Dirk—he was my counselor.”
    “Grow? Bright Stars, grow is too tame a word!” Dirk groaned. “We spent half our time keeping him fed; he ate more than our mules!”
    “You’ve done pretty well yourself, I’d say,” Skif went on, pointedly ignoring Dirk. “You looked fine up there. Made us all damn proud.”
    Talia blushed, glad it wouldn’t show in the dim light. “I’ve had a lot of help,” she said, almost apologetically.
    “It takes more than a lot of help, and we both know it,” he retorted. “Well, hellfire, this isn’t the time or place for talk about work. You two—you know the rules. Entrance fee!”
    Dirk and Kris were laughingly pushed to the center of the room, as the story teller vacated his place for them. “Anybody bring a harp?” Kris called. “Mine’s still packed; I just got in today.”
    “I did,” Talia volunteered, and eager hands reached out to convey the harp, still in the case, to Kris.
    “Is this—this can’t be My Lady, can it?” Kris asked as the firelight gleamed on the golden wood and the clean, delicate lines. “I wondered who Jadus had left her to.” He ran his fingers reverently across the strings, and they sighed sweetly. “She’s in perfect tune, Talia. You’ve been caring for her as she deserves.”
    Without waiting for an answer, he