Free Redoubt by Mercedes Lackey Page B

gotta deal with your past, Mags, you
have
to. If you don’t, it’ll just keep coming back to haunt you, and one day it’ll do
     something to you that you can’t get out of.”
    I wish I either knew my past or that it would let
me
alone,
Mags thought. Either would do. At least Bear had some idea of what he was up against,
     and why.
    “Before you do anything, lemme think on it a couple days, all right?” he said, finally.
     “Mebbe I can figger out a way to do it better.”
    Bear shrugged. “All right. It’s not as if we’re going to be able to actually sit down
     and talk with anyone with all the wedding business going on. Or . . . well, I could,
     but Lena couldn’t. Everyone in Bardic is so busy entertaining people there’s no point
     in trying to get them to think of anything but who they’re performing for and what
     they’ll be doing. I never even get to see her except as part of an audience until
     nightfall, and that’s not a good time to try to round up someone to talk about anything
     serious.”
    Mags wished he could talk to Lydia or Master Soren about this. Lydia by preference—but
     obviously this was
not
the time to impose on their friendship. And actually . . . now that Lydia was the
     Princess, perhaps she was not the best person to go to after all. She might feel an
     obligation to tell the Deans of Healers’ and Bardic Collegia about it. Master Soren,
     on the other hand, might be a good choice. Or he might know someone who would have
     some good advice, like a priest of some sort. And priests were obliged to keep things
     secret that they were told in confidence.
    “Have a sausage roll,” he suggested, and Bear accepted. “Might as well enjoy breakfast.
     Yer pa ain’t gonna come ridin’ through the gates with a bride in ’er wedding dress
     t’day.” Then he had to laugh. “An’ even if ’e did, there’d be so many lads here thinkin’
     ’e was an angry pa with a daughter lookin’ fer ’em that you could ’scape in the stampede.”
    Bear had to laugh at that.
    By the time they finished, the Palace servants had begun setting up for the last day’s
     entertainments, and people had begun to appear from the Palace to enjoy those festivities.
     Some of the servants were making their way down to the riverbank, laden with what
     looked like pavilions and with purposeful energy in their steps. Some of them stopped
     right outside the grotto . . . and it occurred to Mags that if there was one place
     beside the river that was clearly suited for keeping cool drinks cool, it was where
     the two of them happened to be sprawled. “Ain’t there supposed to be boat races today?”
     Mags asked, noting a look in the eyes of the nearest that said
It would be very nice if you weren’t here right now.
Of course, no Palace servant was going to be so rude as to shoo off a Trainee, but
     if they were in the way—
    “Oh, pox. Aye.” Bear got to his feet and dusted himself off. “Here, let me give you
     a hand. They’ll want us to clear off so they can set up.”
    The two of them cleaned up what was left of their impromptu picnic, to the unspoken
     gratitude of the servants. No sooner had the two of them gotten out of the way than
     a pavilion was set up on practically the same spot they had occupied a moment before,
     and servants began bringing baskets of bottles and jugs to store in the back of the
     grotto.
    “Where’s Lena?” Mags asked belatedly, as they moved back toward the Palace.
    “Busy all day,” Bear sighed. “Just like yesterday and the first day. Don’t get to
     see her until tonight. Since I figured way ahead of time that people were going to
     mostly need hangover tea and remedies for overeating, and made up pounds of both for
     the past couple months, I haven’t had anything to do with the visitors. They wouldn’t
     want to see a Trainee anyway; they wouldn’t trust anything less than a full Healer.”
    “Go talk to Trainee Finny,” Mags suggested.