Intrigues: Book Two of the Collegium Chronicles (a Valdemar Novel) by Mercedes Lackey Page B

that while Setham was, indeed, a lot shorter than Mags, he was also well past middle age. He wasn’t a dwarf, but he was certainly not much taller than twelve or fourteen hands. The top of his head barely came up to Dallen’s shoulders!
    Setham was wiry, and he kept his brown hair hair cut quite short, so that the gray at the temples was quite evident. He had a thin face, and intelligent brown eyes, and a mouth that looked as if it smiled often.
    Mags smiled back at him, tentatively.
    “I’ve been hoping you’d be one of the people to join us in Kirball, Mags,” said Setham, without any preamble, sticking out his hand for Mags to shake. “I’ve been hearing a lot about how well you and Dallen work together. I think you’ll be a cornerstone of my team.”
    “Your team, sir?” Mags said, surprised. “I thought I heerd this was all Trainees. An’ mebbe Guard?”
    “So it is, but teams need coaches, and that would be me.” Setham grinned. “I was a jockey before I was a Herald, I rode steeplechases, and now that I am a Herald, I am one of the scouts and cross-country specialists. Archer and I are pretty well known for our ability to scramble over, under, or through just about anything,”
    The other Companion nodded and whinnied. On closer inspection yet, Setham was very short indeed, definitely no taller than twelve hands, and his Companion, Archer, was so compact and cobby he was almost pony-sized.
    :We call him—Archer, that is—The Cat. He never seems to put a foot wrong,: Dallen confirmed. :I may be faster across the straight, but even I can’t move across bad terrain the way he can. And if you can believe it, Setham has never been thrown or pulled from Archer’s saddle.:
    “So, the first thing I want you to do is cast your eye over the playing field,” Setham continued. “Get a good impression of it. We chose the roughest part of Companion’s Field for this.”
    Obediently, Mags did as he had been directed, and the first thing he noticed was that this was even more challenging than the obstacle course. Instead of the usual rail jumps, this had—well—terrain, was the only way he could think to describe it. Gullies, a major ravine, little hills with abrupt drop-offs, stone fences as well as rail fences, culverts, bridges, even a stream he hadn’t known existed, that led into the river. There were no big hills, but there were bits of very steep slope, enough to make even the most sure-footed Companion pause. No effort had been spared to create this thing—there were even lines where turf had been laid over what must have been raw earth after hills had been made and gullies created.
    But unlike the obstacle course, there was no pattern, no obvious path you were supposed to take around this.
    Something that the obstacle course did not have was two identical little stone buildings, with ramps up to the tops of them, one on either end of the field.
    “What do you think of it?” asked Setham.
    “Not sure what t’ think sir,” Mags confessed. He scratched his head. “Looks risky.” Actually it didn’t so much look risky as insane. He could scarcely imagine trying to ride over this thing at speed.
    :I like it. It’s a real challenge!:
    “There is a lot of risk there, I won’t deny it,” Setham replied. “Only the best riders will be able to take this course full out. You and Dallen will take falls, I am sure. People are going to get hurt. But we have a big influx of Trainees right now. Historically that means that we are going to need those Trainees when they become Heralds, and that means Valdemar is going to be facing some trouble down the road. Better some bruises and breaks now than dead Heralds later.”
    Mags turned to see if he could read Setham’s expression. This was the first time he had ever heard a Herald being quite that—blunt.
    Setham looked deadly serious. “I’m not the first Herald in my family,” Setham said. “I’m fourth generation in fact. My great grandfather was