Read Online Valdemar 06 - [Exile 01] - Exile’s Honor by Mercedes Lackey - Free Book Online

he’ll think of that for himself, assuming he hasn’t already. Fine. Perhaps Kantor has managed to insinuate enough into his head while he’s been Healing to make him a bit more receptive to us, but a thinking man doesn’t just suddenly go over to the enemy without reasoning things through for himself. And it will eventually occur to him that just because Kantor is Mindspeaking to him, it doesn’t necessarily follow that Kantor is telling him the truth. I would bet on that.”
    Talamir sensed Taver’s surge of indignation at any such notion—and more remotely, sensed Sendar’s Lorenil’s amusement at both of them. Well, Lorenil always had possessed a strong sense of irony, not to mention a sense of humor that was positively sardonic. Rather like young Kantor in that regard.
    â€œWe’re going to have to win this young fellow to us, old friend,” Sendar said, as if he was completely comfortable with the notion. “We’ll have to be completely honest with him, or he’ll figure out we’ve been shading the truth for his benefit—but we’ll also have to show him why we’re trustworthy and his own people aren’t. He’ll have to come to the conclusion that we’re telling him the truth and that he has a real and compelling reason to give us his loyalty all by himself. Anything heavy-handed, and we’ll lose him.”
    Sendar leaned back in his chair—a modest affair of simple design and unornamented wood and leather, chosen for comfort rather than ostentation, and bestowed a penetrating look on the King’s Own Herald. He and Talamir had known each other and been friends for a very, very long time.
    In fact, their friendship dated from the hour that Talamir had been Chosen by Taver as King’s Own Herald on the death of his predecessor—a premature death, brought on by too much stress, too much work, and a brainstorm. Talamir had been so young, uncertain in his office, and disoriented by the bond with Taver, which was so strong, and so life-altering.
    Sendar, on the other hand, had been a very young King, but not at all uncertain in his office. Young, he might have been, but he’d been schooled in his duties since he could toddle. He’d been a handsome young man then, blond and tall and strong, with chiseled features worthy of a god, and an idealistic nature tempered with that finely-honed sense of irony. He was handsome still, though there was as much gray in his hair as gold, and age and care had continued to wield a cruel hand against those features, chiseling lines of worry that gave him a rather stern look. Kingly, but there was no doubt that people found him intimidating on occasion. His own sardonic sense of humor didn’t help on those occasions; he rather enjoyed being intimidating now and again.
    â€œHe promised that he would give us a trial,” Talamir told the King, knowing how Sendar would react. Sendar liked audaciousness; he’d loved it in his Queen, who had boldly proposed to him rather than the other way around, who had met every challenge, even the illness that killed her, with spirit and determination.
    Sendar laughed as Talamir had expected, a dry little chuckle.
    His daughter, Princess Selenay, who had been staring rather fixedly at nothing at all as she listened, made a face. “I don’t see what’s so funny,” she objected.
    Selenay might one day grow into the dry wit her father possessed, but at the moment, she was in a stage where she took everything quite seriously and earnestly. Talamir found that uniquely endearing, as did her father.
    â€œNot funny, my dear—ironic,” Sendar told her. “A Karsite, of all things, giving us a chance to prove our good intentions. If you’ll recall your history, you’ll know why that seems ironic.”
    Selenay hesitated, toying with the end of her single braid, then evidently decided to be as forthright as her