Read Online Intrigues: Book Two of the Collegium Chronicles (a Valdemar Novel) by Mercedes Lackey - Free Book Online

someone in uncle’s livery following him—”
    Mags chuckled. “Which’s why I ain’t asked ye,” he replied.
    “I’ll leave it to the expert then,” she said with a grin. He made a face at her.
    “Ain’t no expert. More like ’prentice. ’Prentice bein’ set his first task t’ do on his own.” He laughed self-deprecatingly. “So I reckon this ain’t anythin’ like—really important. More like t’ see if’n I kin find out anythin’ on m’own.”
    Lydia blinked solemnly at him. “I think you’re probably underestimating yourself, but—” She shrugged. “Well, maybe not, maybe you’re right. So how is poor Lena?”
    He refrained from rolling his eyes. “I dun know why she’s so upset. Weren’t like she ever saw her pa, or he saw her.”
    Lydia wound up the last of the wool deftly. “I’d say ask Amily. She has a father that’s just as famous, so maybe she can explain it.”
    With his hands now freed he could scratch his head. “Reckon I will,” he said. “And thankee, Lydia.”
    She grinned at him. “You made a very good winding spool, and a much more entertaining one than my usual. Good luck with this job, and I hope you impress Herald Nikolas.”
    He laughed, and took himself off to the stables where Dallen was waiting. :So what d’ye think?: he asked, as he saddled his Companion. :I’m thinkin’ that followin’ this feller ain’t gonna be too easy. Leastwise, not up here.:
    :I tend to agree. We need to do something other than the usual. Move the blanket a little higher on my withers, please.:
    Mags got the distinct impression that Dallen was waiting for him to come up with . . . something. Something creative. Something that wasn’t . . . usual.
    He sensed Soren’s head groom approaching from behind and reached back without thinking about it for Dallen’s bitless bridle. “Thenkee, Roben,” he said, and that was when it struck him.
    He always knew where someone was, if he knew that person. Was that some aspect of his Mindspeaking Gift?
    :Yes it is,: Dallen said promptly. :You don’t have to know what someone is saying to recognize his voice. He could be in another room and all you need to hear is the cadence to know it’s him. It’s the same with Mindspeech. You don’t have to know what they are thinking to know it’s them. So . . . :
    If he knew someone . . . he would know what they “sounded” like . . . so . . .
    He swung himself up into Dallen’s saddle. :So, it’d be all right if I followed Chamjey by that? So long as I didn’t actually listen in on what he’s a-thinkin’?:
    Dallen tossed his head in the way that told Mags he was pleased. :Exactly so. So?:
    :So I reckon I’d better find a reason t’ lurk around ’im and get t’ know ’im.:
    They headed up the road to the Palace and Collegia. :How convenient that you’ll get your chance today,: Dallen told him, with a hint of amusement. :There is a Council meeting going on right now, and it is going to go long, according to Rolan, Chamjey is showing no signs of wanting to slip away. And I expect if you were to put on a page’s uniform and go serve wine for a candlemark or so, no one would object.:
    Mags groaned. As if he didn’t already have enough to do. Oh well. Best get it over with.
    Evidently there had been a great deal of silent communication among Nikolas, Rolan, and Dallen, because when he arrived back at the Collegium, there was a page waiting with an impudent grin and a spare set of pages’ livery in approximately his size.
    He then spent the most boring pair of candlemarks in his life, standing with the other two pages while the circle of old men droned on and on about—well, it involved a lot of maths. Trade things, it seemed. Fortunately he was not there to understand what was going on, he was there to get himself familiar with the feel of Chamjey’s mind.
    Chamjey himself would have been utterly ordinary if it hadn’t been for the flamboyance of his dress. And that was the oddest thing.