Bastion

always entertainers. With all the other Harvest Fairs over, every traveling player and musician, every roving acrobat and tumbler, every single person who made his living on the road supplying amusement, all converged on Haven for the biggest Fair of the season.
    It wasn’t the only fair, of course; there were four huge ones, one for each season, plus various other specialty fairs. But this was the biggest of them all. There would be another enormous Fair at Midwinter, but it would be only half the size of this one, if that; it would depend entirely on the weather. There would be no Hiring Fair at Midwinter as all seasonal hiring was done at the Spring and Harvest Fairs, and any entertainer who had any sort of venue for regular income would be sticking to it and not venturing to cross the country in the hard months of bitter cold.
    Mags thought of the Midwinter Fair with much more fondness than the Harvest Fair—even though the Harvest Fair was generally the favorite of all the other Trainees. It had been at Mags’ first Midwinter Fair, ever, that he had met Master Soren, whose friendship had led to so much—including meeting Amily.
    At the thought of Amily, he felt his throat closing; not even exhaustion could keep him from longing for her the way a starving man longs for meat. All of his doubts about whether or not he was in love with her had somehow vanished in those weeks he had been in captivity. If he had anything to say about it, he was never going to be separated from her again.
    :I’d be jealous if she weren’t worth every bit of your regard,: Dallen said lightly, and teasingly. :And if I weren’t certain she feels the same about you.:
    :Quiet, horse,: he managed, with real humor. :Do I get jealous of all the mares you chase?:
    :And catch!: Dallen replied archly, and he curved his neck and flagged his tail to prove how handsome he was. :Even Rolan can’t keep up with me. I am a legend among the mares, I will have you know.: Mags chuckled and felt his spirits start to rise, albeit sluggishly.
    It could not possibly have been a more perfect day for a homecoming. The air was just cold enough to still be pleasant as long as you were under a good wool cloak, the sky sported only a handful of fluffy white clouds. The air was rich with the scent of woodsmoke, fallen leaves, and the last hay crop drying in the fields. Virtually everyone on the road was in a high state of cheer. And how not? From everything that Mags knew, it had been a good and fruitful year, the harvests especially bountiful. Even if the winter was terrible, there was more than enough to sustain the entire Kingdom through it.
    The crowds gave way to the easily identifiable three Heralds in their white uniforms who rode at the front of the little group, the remains of the troop of Guardsmen and Heralds that had met Mags and Dallen at the Karsite Border. There were the three Heralds, a Healer, and Mags now, which was a much more manageable number than the original rescue party. They’d been able to spend the nights in comfortable inns rather than tents.
    It wasn’t surprising that people parted to let them pass. Mags might be in the Grays of a Trainee rather than the Whites of a Herald, but his Companion marked him as one of the Chosen. And a Healer’s Greens always got respect, no matter what he was riding on.
    Mags must have seemed to be emerging from deep thought, for the Healer perked up and gave him a look of inquiry, which Mags answered with a nod. “I’m looking forward to finally meeting your friend Bear,” the Healer said cheerfully, urging his mule up beside Dallen. “He’s quite the genius with herbs, and I can learn a lot from him.”
    That made one of the Heralds turn around in his saddle to stare a little. “But Raynard, you have a Gift!” Herald Farnten exclaimed. “Why on earth would you need herbs?”
    “Because if I can get the same result using herbs as I can using my Gift, I am going to use herbs,” the Healer said patiently, as if he had been forced to make this same explanation far too many times in the past. “That way I save my energy for someone I can’t dose with herbs. You have Fetching Gift. Do you use it to get an apple from a bowl across the room?”
    The Herald chewed his lip a moment. “You have a good point,” Herald Farnten replied, nodding. “I never thought of it that way. I just think of Healers as . . .” Then he shrugged. “Obviously, I’m an idiot.”
    “Not so much an idiot as