reckoned.
And so it proved. He danced a great deal, even if he didn’t dance well; he drank a
little, and when Dallen turned up to shove him into his own room in the stable, he
was tired enough and just light-headed enough, not to resist.
2
T he morning was cool and the breeze still persisted, which was a good sign for the
game that afternoon. Mags got himself an early wash, courtesy of the stable pump,
knowing he was going to be wanting another before the day was over. The air was clear,
the sky cloudless as he walked up to the dining hall that was shared by all three
Collegia. He enjoyed the solitary walk; in a few hours, he wasn’t going to find anywhere
but Companion’s Field that didn’t have a crowd.
Breakfast—and, for that matter, lunch and dinner—for these three days was going to
be a free-form affair, at least at the Collegia. He wasn’t sure how it would be managed
at the Palace, and, of course, it would probably be just another day at the manors
around the Palace, so far as the servants of the highborn were concerned. But here,
since every possible hand was needed, the Collegia servants had been somewhat conscripted.
So at most of the meals during the wedding, cold food was laid out on the tables,
and you were expected to help yourself.
These were holidays for everyone except the servants. Amily had told Mags that there
was going to be a separate set of holidays for the servants still on duty, some of
them getting three days leave before the wedding and some getting three days leave
after, which only seemed fair to him.
And, of course, a great many things—even food—had been prepared in advance, so
all
the work wasn’t being done in these three days. But with so many visitors, and so
much to be done on the festal days themselves, there were still not quite enough hands
to cover all the work.
There was, of course, a solution for that here at the Collegia. Not a bad thing if
you asked him; after all, even the highborn Heralds, Bards, and Healers were going
to, one day, be in positions and places where they had to do their own cooking and
cleaning. Out in the Field alone, there were plenty of times a Herald would be living
in a Waystation and not at an inn or a Guardpost. From the way Amily had talked, it
looked as if the Deans had decided that they all might as well start learning how
to tend to such common chores now. All the Trainees were taking a turn in the kitchen
on cleaning duty, for instance; he had been on breakfast and dinner duty yesterday;
they were letting him off today because of the game, and he had dinner duty tomorrow.
He seemed to be one of the few up and awake this early. There was a Bardic Trainee
who looked as if he hadn’t gotten to bed yet, another who seemed to be nursing a hangover,
and a couple of Healers chattering away brightly enough to make the stricken Bardic
Trainee wince. Mags went over to the food tables to see what had been laid out.
After all that food last night and with a practice and a game ahead of him today,
he left the sweet stuff alone and ate lightly: some fruit, a couple of hard-boiled
eggs, a little bread and butter, tea. While he ate, he considered what the game this
afternoon was going to be like.
Gennie and Pip were the only Trainees from South Team on the Prince’s Choice, and
Jeffers was the only horse-mounted player, or Rider. The rest were all people he had
played
against,
never with, and a good solid practice was definitely in order before they went out
against the King’s Choice.
The two Bardic Trainees staggered out the door, leaving him and the Healers alone.
The sun outside the windows suggested it could get very warm. That could be an issue.
He knew how Gennie, Pip, and Jeffers reacted to heat, but not the others.
Then there was strategy to think about. Mixing members from all four teams meant that
strategies that had been worked out in the past were now
And so it proved. He danced a great deal, even if he didn’t dance well; he drank a
little, and when Dallen turned up to shove him into his own room in the stable, he
was tired enough and just light-headed enough, not to resist.
2
T he morning was cool and the breeze still persisted, which was a good sign for the
game that afternoon. Mags got himself an early wash, courtesy of the stable pump,
knowing he was going to be wanting another before the day was over. The air was clear,
the sky cloudless as he walked up to the dining hall that was shared by all three
Collegia. He enjoyed the solitary walk; in a few hours, he wasn’t going to find anywhere
but Companion’s Field that didn’t have a crowd.
Breakfast—and, for that matter, lunch and dinner—for these three days was going to
be a free-form affair, at least at the Collegia. He wasn’t sure how it would be managed
at the Palace, and, of course, it would probably be just another day at the manors
around the Palace, so far as the servants of the highborn were concerned. But here,
since every possible hand was needed, the Collegia servants had been somewhat conscripted.
So at most of the meals during the wedding, cold food was laid out on the tables,
and you were expected to help yourself.
These were holidays for everyone except the servants. Amily had told Mags that there
was going to be a separate set of holidays for the servants still on duty, some of
them getting three days leave before the wedding and some getting three days leave
after, which only seemed fair to him.
And, of course, a great many things—even food—had been prepared in advance, so
all
the work wasn’t being done in these three days. But with so many visitors, and so
much to be done on the festal days themselves, there were still not quite enough hands
to cover all the work.
There was, of course, a solution for that here at the Collegia. Not a bad thing if
you asked him; after all, even the highborn Heralds, Bards, and Healers were going
to, one day, be in positions and places where they had to do their own cooking and
cleaning. Out in the Field alone, there were plenty of times a Herald would be living
in a Waystation and not at an inn or a Guardpost. From the way Amily had talked, it
looked as if the Deans had decided that they all might as well start learning how
to tend to such common chores now. All the Trainees were taking a turn in the kitchen
on cleaning duty, for instance; he had been on breakfast and dinner duty yesterday;
they were letting him off today because of the game, and he had dinner duty tomorrow.
He seemed to be one of the few up and awake this early. There was a Bardic Trainee
who looked as if he hadn’t gotten to bed yet, another who seemed to be nursing a hangover,
and a couple of Healers chattering away brightly enough to make the stricken Bardic
Trainee wince. Mags went over to the food tables to see what had been laid out.
After all that food last night and with a practice and a game ahead of him today,
he left the sweet stuff alone and ate lightly: some fruit, a couple of hard-boiled
eggs, a little bread and butter, tea. While he ate, he considered what the game this
afternoon was going to be like.
Gennie and Pip were the only Trainees from South Team on the Prince’s Choice, and
Jeffers was the only horse-mounted player, or Rider. The rest were all people he had
played
against,
never with, and a good solid practice was definitely in order before they went out
against the King’s Choice.
The two Bardic Trainees staggered out the door, leaving him and the Healers alone.
The sun outside the windows suggested it could get very warm. That could be an issue.
He knew how Gennie, Pip, and Jeffers reacted to heat, but not the others.
Then there was strategy to think about. Mixing members from all four teams meant that
strategies that had been worked out in the past were now
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