He seldom had occasion to visit this part of the palace and it felt strange to make his way down these quiet corridors. Twice servants had looked him over carefully before offering a polite nod of greeting. Between his Healer's greens, his scars and distinctive walk, Kyminn was a familiar sight around the Collegium and palace environs, even if he rarely ventured into the palace proper.

His hand drifted down to brush his pocket, the message crackling faintly beneath his fingers. He wasn't certain why he'd made sure to bring it; it was unlikely in the extreme that he would be require it. Kyminn smiled faintly to himself, acknowledging that even at his distinguished years, he could still be unsettled by the unfamiliar.

I'd like for us to sit down and visit. How about if you stop by my rooms on Third day for a late supper, around the seventh hour?

"Now you're just being a ninny," he scolded to himself quietly. Still, his hand paused for a brief moment before firmly knocking on the door.

"Come in!" The door swung open, his host's smile of greeting warm and genuine. A firm clasp of forearms affirmed the affection between the two.

"Sit! Sit!" A cultured wave took in the sitting room where a small table was set to take best advantage of the small fireplace. "Your timing is perfect, they've just brought dinner. What say we don't let it get cold?"

Kyminn took the indicated seat, noting with wry interest that it was the 'guest's' seat, positioned with the best light and warmth. Surely, he wasn't that old, was he?

"Let me help," Kyminn offered, reaching for the covered dishes.

"Nonsense!" A white-clad arm deftly intercepted Kyminn's attempt. "I invited you. Besides, not only are you my guest, I think there's something about respecting one's elders, isn't there?"

Kyminn flushed. "Well, yes, but you're a Herald. It just doesn't seem right…"

His host laughed, a quiet, rich sound. "I don't recall you and Randen ever standing on ceremony. I've seen you put more than one Herald in their place!"

"It's just…"

Brown eyes grew more serious. "It's just that it's hard for you to find a balance between 'my son' and 'my son, the Herald', isn't it?"

"Is it that obvious?" Kyminn sighed. "You've had your whites for a decade now and I still fumble. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry!" Ansen shook his head. "Do you mind if I take a stab at it?"

Kyminn waved a hand vaguely. "Go ahead. I'm interested to hear your take on it."

Ansen nodded and it seemed to Kyminn as though an air of quiet competence settled around his oldest son.

"We probably would have had this conversation quite some time ago if circumstances hadn't meant we see so little of each other." Ansen's smile was oddly mature. "However, I ask you to remember that not only am I trained to assess the unspoken reasons behind someone's actions, it's something I have quite a bit of experience at Father. It's one of the reasons that I get the kind of assignments that I do."

Kyminn nodded in acknowledgement of this statement. He kept tabs on both his Herald children and he knew that Ansen spent a good deal of time working through situations which required a delicate diplomatic touch.

"You like and respect Heralds. You always have. I should know – you instilled that in all of us. And that respect makes it hard for you to not defer – just a bit - to a Herald, especially in a setting like this, that Herald's own home.

"On the other hand, you know full well that Heralds are humans and we're far from perfect. You seem to have absolutely no problem asserting yourself, especially when on your own ground. Agreed?"

Kyminn nodded.

"But," Ansen held up his hand and turned it, offering another side. "I'm your son. And that doesn't fit anywhere. You want to acknowledge that I'm a man grown, to make the transition from parent and child to man to man. That's perfectly natural, and you do it quite well actually."

Ansen smiled. "But Father? You're trying too hard. Trying so hard to not treat me like a child that you fall back on treating me only like a Herald. And to emphasize that you're acknowledging that I'm an adult – and Herald – you put that extra distance in between us."

"Is that what I'm doing?" Kyminn wondered, "Putting distance between us?"

"Yes. But so do many parents of Heralds." A chuckle. "So at least there's that on your side. It's an awkward transition figuring out how a Herald fits in the family."

A wry twist of smile. "So. How does a Herald fit into a family?"

"It depends. Sometimes father to son. Sometimes Herald to Healer. Other times, man to man. Never forget that I am – and will always be – your son, even though my duty comes first. You're a Healer, Ada. You understand duty."

Something caught in Kyminn's throat at Ansen's use of the childhood endearment and he had to pause for a second before he answered. "I understand. Or at least, I think I do. I promise to try." Kyminn sighed. "Why is it that your mother never seems to have trouble with this?"

Ansen's normally serious expression bloomed into a grin. "Well. Mother. That's different. She doesn't overthink things the way you do. She's just all 'That's nice son, now go be a Herald. I love you, bye.' Very practical, is mother."

Their joined laughter filled the room and the somber mood vanished. "Now," Ansen started lifting covers. "I am given to understand that the cooks made a delicious plum glaze for the pork roast this evening."

As they enjoyed the meal, Kyminn caught Ansen up on the rest of the family.

"Renya and Alwin continue to do well. Alwin has a contract to provide basic musicianship and general tutoring to a dozen or so of the better born youngsters and he seems to enjoy it. Did Ren ever tell you about the incident with the cistern?"

Ansen shook his head and munched on a honey and nut pastry. "I think I missed that one. Probably in a letter that's still chasing me."

Kyminn grinned. "Well, you'll appreciate this one. It seems that Joss and Naden were playing guards and bandits, using sticks for swords. Naturally, things got a little vigorous."

"Naturally." It was droll.

"Well, one thing being another, Joss got a good whack in on Naden and Naden took after him, intent on getting some of his own back. Joss decided to duck behind the water barrel that Ren uses to water her herb garden."

Ansen winced. "They didn't trample her healing garden, did they?"

Kyminn's grin widened at Ansen's expression. "No, they knew better than to set foot in there without permission. Naden took a swing at Joss with his stick and knocked the spigot off the water barrel."

"And, presumably, flooded the garden. You're right, that's worse than trampling it." Ansen took note of Kyminn's expression and paused. "Something else? Something…worse?"

"Well, when they realized the danger, they had enough brains to push the barrel over, away from Ren's garden. They did a good job of not flooding the garden. However…" Kyminn's grin was positively wicked, "they also did an excellent job of flooding a cellar store room." He gave Ansen a moment to absorb that before he continued. "The boys tried their best to get the goods out of the room before anything got damaged. In the process of trying to undo the damage, one of them – no one is sure who – knocked over a set of shelves."

Ansen groaned. "How bad was it?"

"Oh, not too bad. It was mostly some bales of cloth that had been set aside for new work clothes. Heavy linen and so on that took the water without much harm. Cloth…and a few sacks of powdered dye…the dye used to touch up…Healer Greens and Bardic Scarlets…."

"Noooo…" It was half horrified laughter, half wail.

"Yes. Your nephews are, for the next little while, very, very colourful characters!" Kyminn couldn't hold it in any more and tears of laughter ran down his cheeks.

"Father, you are a very wicked fellow, you know that?" Ansen shook his head in mock dismay. "You're just glad they are a long way away and you don't have to deal with the mess first hand!"

"True!" Kyminn collected himself, still smiling broadly. "But that family tale makes what Niyeh's toddler did seem tame by comparison. All Annika did was get out of her cot when everyone thought she was napping and try to help make a cake. On the kitchen floor. By dumping flour and everything else she could find into the pile. Apparently, wet flour paste is very difficult to get off things once it dries. Your sister was not best pleased."

"I can imagine." Ansen shook his head. "My turn to pass on family news. Cellen is well into his internship and should return in early spring."

"How's he doing?"

Ansen raised an eyebrow. "I have no idea. And in case you didn't know, no one except the Dean, the Queen and the mentor know if a Herald has passed his or her Internship. And the Intern is the first one told."

"Ah. Sorry. I should have realized you couldn't discuss it."

"Not to worry. If it helps, I can tell you that it would not surprise me if Cellen doesn't end up spending much time on circuit."

"Really? Why not? I don't see him having your…aptitude…for diplomacy."

Ansen stifled a snort. "My brother has many excellent qualities, father, but an excess of diplomacy is not one of them."

Kyminn's smile was rueful. "Um. Yes. Cellen has always been a bit of a blunt instrument in some things."

"Oh, well, not so much of that any more. He seems to have settled down a good bit. No, it's simply that I would think he's liable to wind up a Herald Courier. Lancri's got quite an astonishing turn of speed, even amongst Companions. Not the fastest, but up near the front of the pack."

"Really?" Surprise and pleasure at learning something new about Cellen and Lancri coloured Kyminn's voice. "Well. Isn't that interesting!"

"As I said, it's just a guess. Selenay will use him as she needs, as with any of us." Ansen poured wine for the two of them and changed the subject. "And Mehret? What have you heard of her?"

Kyminn nodded his thanks. "Mehrhet and Anders accepted a commission to look at some of the bridges between here and the Hardornen border. The Council wants to know what it would require to take the bridges out in a hurry if Ancar gets that far. They also want an estimate of how quickly a crossing could be put into place. Anders was talking about a bridge they could build in sections and install in half a day or so but it was very technical."

At the mention of Ancar, the air took on a palpable chill.

"Yes. We can't avoid him, can we?" Ansen's voice was quiet.

Kyminn shook his head. "I never expected to see another war in my lifetime. None of us did." His expression was bleak.

"We have a respite this winter at least," gentle.

"Yes. And the wedding of the Queen's Own and Herald Dirk…that was something special, wasn't it?"

A warm smile. "It was indeed." Ansen looked at the lantern-light glinting off the ruby red in his wine glass. "I understand you helped care for Talia."

A faint shrug. "Not so much as many. I helped with getting all the broken bones immobilized. Your mother was much more involved in the actual Healing."

Ansen nodded. "Which brings me to the actual reason I asked you to dinner this evening."

"Herald Talia?" Kyminn couldn't hide his surprise.

"Partly. To say 'the circumstances around her injuries' would be more accurate."

"I see." Scarred hands traced the stem of the wine glass. "I presume this is why you invited me for dinner on a night you knew your mother was away."

Ansen didn't dissemble. "Yes. We arranged the invitation to the conference with the Hardornen-trained Healers."

"I see." A deep breath. "What do you need?"

"Need? Nothing father. I have been asked by the Circle to quietly pass some information on to you. That's all."

Mind-Healers had left Kyminn able to live with the memories of his days in the hands of Jaek Jacobi. Had returned to him the ability to live a normal life. They had not removed the memories. Kyminn no longer had nightmares – hadn't for many years now – but he had never forgotten.

Kyminn nodded for Ansen to continue, eyes flicking up to meet the Herald's.

"The Circle has completed our investigations of Hulda and Lord Orthallen." Ansen's voice was calm. "We managed to locate one of Orthallen's lieutenants – an unacknowledged nephew, born outside the bloodline."

"I never met Orthallen, not really. But I knew some of his friends and I didn't think highly of them."

Ansen nodded once to show he understood. "The nephew didn't know everything, of course. Orthallen kept a good deal close to his vest. But he knew enough to give us some missing pieces.

"As near as we can tell, Orthallen had been trying to push his way onto the throne since Sendar was a young man. We don't know if he contacted Hulda or the reverse, but the two had been using each other for decades. Hulda used Orthallen's gold in her scheme to put her own puppet on the throne of Hardorn. Orthallen used Hulda's magic to weaken the throne in Valdemar."

"Magic?" Kyminn looked unhappy. "It was the only word I could think of to explain some of what I saw, but I'd always hoped there was some other explanation."

A slow headshake. "Magic. The kind like in the old tales. Talia confirmed it. Different from Gifts somehow."

"Gods." Kyminn pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed gustily. "She was the source of the amulets then?"

"Yes. Until we heard Talia's story and put two and two together, we didn't realize that the 'Lady' from the attack on you and Hulda were the same person. Hulda helped Orthallen find Gifted youngsters and destroy them before they could be trained. Some they killed outright while others she somehow used for her own purposes."

Kyminn nodded in understanding. The scar on his neck had faded over time, but would never leave him. "All those children for all those years. All that promise. It's monstrous."

"It is. Was." A firm headshake. "That conspiracy is finished, root and branch. We're sure of it." Ansen leaned forward, gaze never leaving Kyminn's. "It's over, Father. I know that for the last many years a part of you has always wondered if Jaek Jacobi was the end of it. Wondered if somehow it would start up again another way and more children would disappear. I'm here to tell you that it's over. You can rest easy now."

Inside Kyminn, a little bit of scar shifted. Healed.