Kitabı oku: «The Protector of the Small Quartet», sayfa 3

Kel waited for him to run out of words as water trickled off her hat and cloak onto the mat by the door. She gave Tobe a moment after he stopped talking, to make sure he was done, before she asked, ‘What is that about?’

‘See?’ he cried. ‘You forgot me already – me, Tobeis Boon, whose bond you bought tonight. I knew you was drunk or takin’ a drug or mad. But here I am an’ here I stay. You need me, to, to carry your wine jug, an’ cut the poppy brick for you to smoke, an’, an’ make sure you eat—’

Kel raised her eyebrows. ‘Quiet,’ she said in the calm, firm tone she had learned from Lord Raoul.

Tobe blinked and closed his mouth.

Kel walked over and blew into his face so he could smell her liquor- and drug-free breath. ‘I’m not drunk,’ she told him. ‘I take no drugs. If I’m mad, it’s in ways that don’t concern you. I went out to get you clothes, Tobe. You can’t go north wearing only a shirt.’

She tossed the sack onto her bed and walked back to the puddle she’d left by the door, then struggled to undo the tie on her hat. Her fingers were stiff with cold even after grooming Hoshi and treating her to a hot mash.

When she removed the hat, a pair of small, scarred hands took it and leaned it against the wall to dry. Once Kel had shed the cloak, Tobe hung it from a peg, then knelt to remove her boots. ‘I have clothes,’ he said, wrestling off one boot while Kel braced herself.

‘I saw,’ she replied, eyeing the heap they made on the floor. ‘I wouldn’t let a cat have kittens on them. I ought to take Alvik before a magistrate anyway. Your bond says you get two full suits of clothes, a coat, and a sturdy pair of shoes every year.’

‘It does?’ he asked, falling on his rump with her boot in his hands.

Kel reached inside her tunic and pulled out his indenture papers. ‘Right there,’ she told him, pointing to the paragraph. When Tobe frowned, she knew Alvik had neglected something else. ‘You can’t read, can you?’ she asked.

‘Alvik said I din’t need no schoolin’, ’acos I was too stupid to learn,’ Tobe informed Kel, searching for a cloth to wipe her boots with. He was practised at this: the innkeeper had taught him to look after guests’ belongings as well as their horses, Kel supposed.

‘Lessons,’ she said, folding the papers once more. ‘After we’re settled in the north.’ She yawned. ‘Wake me at dawn. We’ll try those clothes on you then. And I’m not sure about the, the’ – she yawned again – ‘shoes. I’m not sure these will fit. If we stop on the way, perhaps …’

She looked around, exhaustion addling her brain. Her normal bedtime on the road was much earlier than this. She eyed the door, her dripping hat and cloak, her boots, Tobe.

‘Lady?’ he asked quietly. ‘Sounds like you mean to do all manner of things for me. What was you wishful of me doin’ for you?’

‘Oh, that,’ Kel said, realizing that she hadn’t told him what duties he would have. ‘You’ll look after my horses and belongings, and in four years you’ll be free.’ A will, she realized. I need to make a will so he can be freed if I’m slain. She picked up her water pitcher and drank from the rim. ‘For that, I am duty bound to see that you are fed, clothed, and educated. We’ll settle things like days off. You’ll learn how to clean armour and weapons. That ought to keep you busy enough.’

He nodded. ‘Yes, lady.’

‘Very well. Go to bed. I’m exhausted.’ Unbuttoning her shirt, she realized he hadn’t moved. ‘Bed,’ she said firmly. ‘Cover your head till I say you can come out. I won’t undress while you watch.’

She took her nightshirt out of a saddlebag and finished changing once Tobe was on his pallet with his eyes hidden. In the end, she had to uncover him. He’d gone to sleep with the blanket over his head. Kel banked the fire and blew out the last candle that burned in the room.

The killing device moved in her dreams. Blayce the Nothing Man watched it. He pointed to a child who cowered under his worktable: it was Tobe. The metal thing reached under the table and dragged the boy out.

Kel sat up, gasping, sweat-soaked. It was still dark, still night. The rain had stopped. She was at an inn on the Great Road North, riding to war.

‘Lady,’ Tobe asked, his voice clear, ‘what’s Blayce? What’s Stenmun?’

‘A nightmare and his dog,’ Kel replied, wiping her face on her sleeve. ‘Go back to sleep.’

The rain returned in the morning. The army’s commanders decided it would be foolish to move on. Kel used the day to finish supplying Tobe, making sure that what he had fit properly. Tobe protested the need for more than one set of clothes and for any shoes, saying that she shouldn’t spend money on him.

‘Do you want to make me look bad?’ she demanded at last. ‘People judge a mistress by how well her servants are dressed. Do you want folk to say I’m miserly, or that I don’t know my duty?’

‘Alvik never cared,’ Tobe pointed out as he fed the sparrows cracked corn.

‘He isn’t noble-born,’ Kel retorted. ‘I am. You’ll be dressed properly, and that’s that.’

At least she could afford the sewing and shoe fitting. She had an income, more than she had thought she’d get as the poorly dowered youngest daughter of a large family. For her service in the war she received a purse from the crown every two weeks. Raoul had advised her on investments, which had multiplied both a legal fine once paid to her and her portion of Lalasa’s earnings. Lalasa had insisted on that payment, saying that she would not have been able to grow rich off royal custom if not for her old mistress. It was an argument Kel had yet to win. And it did mean that she could outfit Tobe without emptying her purse, a venture Lalasa would approve.

The rain ended that night. The army set out at dawn, Tobe riding pillion with Kel. Once they were under way, Kel rode back along the line of march until she found the wagon that held the gear of the first-year knights, including Hoshi’s tack, spare saddle blankets, weapons, and all Kel needed to tend her arms and armour. She opened the canvas cover on the wagon and slung the boy inside with one arm.

‘There’s blankets under that saddle, and meat and cheese in that pack,’ she informed him. ‘Bundle up. It’s a cold ride. I’ll get you when we stop for the night.’ She didn’t wait for his answer but tied the cover and returned to her friends.

They ate lunch on horseback as cold rain fell again. Knights and squires huddled in the saddle, miserable despite broad-brimmed hats and oiled cloaks to keep the wet out. Kel had extra warmth from Jump and the sparrows, who had ducked under her cloak the moment the rain had returned.

They were crossing a pocket of a valley when Neal poked Kel and pointed. In the trees to their left, a small figure moved through the undergrowth, following them. Kel twitched Peachblossom off the road and into the woods, cutting Tobe off. He stared up at her, his chin set.

‘I left you in the wagon so you wouldn’t get soaked,’ Kel informed him. He was muddy from toes to knees. ‘Are you mad?’

Tobe shook his head.

‘Then why do this?’ she asked, patiently. ‘You’re no good to either of us if you get sick or fall behind.’

‘Folk took interest in me ’afore, lady,’ replied the boy. ‘A merchant and a priestess. Soon as I was gone from their sight, they forgot I was alive. Sometimes I think I jus’ dreamed you. If I don’t see you, mayhap you’ll vanish.’

‘I’m too solid to be a dream. Besides, I paid two copper nobles for your bond,’ Kel reminded him. ‘Not to mention what we laid out for the sewing and the cobbler.’

‘Folk’ve given me nobles jus’ for holdin’ the stirrup when they mounted up,’ Tobe informed her. ‘Some is so rich, a noble means as much to them as a copper bit to ol’ Alvik.’

Kel sighed. ‘I’m not rich,’ she said, but it was for the sake of argument. Compared with this mule-headed scrap of boyhood, she was rich. It was all she could do not to smile. She recognized the determination in those bright blue eyes. It matched her own.

She evicted the sparrows from the shelter of her cloak and reached a hand down. When he gripped it, Kel swung the boy up behind her. ‘Not a word of complaint,’ she told him. ‘Get under my cloak. It’ll keep the rain off.’

This order he obeyed. Kel waited for the sparrows to tuck themselves under the front of her cloak, then urged Peachblossom back to their place in line.

Neal, seeing her approach, opened his mouth.

‘Not one word,’ Kel warned. ‘Tobe and I have reached an understanding.’

Neal’s lips twitched. ‘Why do I have the feeling you did most of the understanding?’

‘Why do I have the feeling that if you give me a hard time, I’ll tell all of our year-mates your family nickname is Meathead?’ Kel replied in kind.

‘You resort to common insult because you have no stronger arguments to offer,’ retorted Neal. When Kel opened her mouth, Neal raised a hand to silence her. ‘Nevertheless, I concede.’

‘Good,’ Kel said. ‘That’s that.’

‘You got anything to eat?’ enquired a voice from inside her cloak.

April 1–14, 460 near the Scanran border

CHAPTER 3
LONG, COLD ROAD

It was well past dark when they reached their next stop, the village of Wolfwood. ‘We’re here for a few days,’ Raoul told the younger knights. ‘Lady Alanna and the troops for the coast leave us here. So will the troops and knights meant for the eastern border. Maybe we’ll even be here long enough to dry out.’

‘What’s dry?’ asked Faleron of King’s Reach wearily.

‘Good question,’ Lady Alanna said, stretching to get the kinks out of her spine. She and Neal chorused, ‘Next question.’ The lady grinned at her former squire. ‘You rode with me too long, Queenscove,’ she pointed out.

‘And I learned things every step of the way, lady knight,’ said Neal with a bow.

Tobe offered to groom Peachblossom and Hoshi. Kel watched as the boy worked.

‘You think he’s a horse-mage?’ Neal murmured. He’d tended his mounts and was ready to go inside. ‘He’s got wild magic with horses?’

‘It seems so,’ Kel admitted, gathering her saddlebags. ‘Look how easy Peachblossom is with him.’ Satisfied that Tobe needed no help, she followed Neal into the wayhouse, Jump and the sparrows trailing behind.

Messengers had warned their hosts of their arrival. There was a tub of hot water in Kel’s room. She scrubbed, changed, then went to find her charge. She found Tobe in Peachblossom’s stall, though both the gelding and Hoshi had been groomed and fed.

‘You’ll sleep in my chamber like last night. There’s a tub there now. Go and wash,’ she ordered. ‘The servants take meals in the east wing of the house. Eat properly, vegetables as well as meat. And drink some milk.’

Tobe grinned at her. ‘He said last night you’re a bear for vegetables – Sir Nealan, that is. Auld Eulama were the same.’ He went to do as he was told. Kel returned to the wayhouse, thinking. They needed to come to an understanding. She couldn’t let him walk, but she didn’t like to share a saddle. Perhaps he could ride Hoshi? Normally Kel would have ridden the mare on a journey like this, but she needed Peachblossom’s strength to help open the road in spots. Hoshi would barely notice Tobe’s weight, and she would keep him out of the mud.

In the common room, Kel picked at her supper, too weary to eat. She was about to go to her room when someone came in. A servant rushed forward to take his wet things; the innkeeper followed to see what the new guest required.

The newcomer was a big fellow, a knight from his tunic badge, with red curly hair and grey eyes. Kel froze. It was Cleon of Kennan, her sweetheart. But something was wrong. She looked at him and saw a brawny knight she knew. Where was the joy of looking at him that she had felt the last time they met? Cleon was as attractive as ever, but he didn’t make her skin tingle as he once had.

Kel bit her lip. As a page she’d thought she was hopelessly in love with Neal. Then, a newly made squire, she’d spent a summer with Lord Raoul and Third Company. Seeing Neal after months of separation, she’d found he looked like just another man, not the bright centre of her heart. Now it had happened again. She and Cleon had kissed, had yearned for time and privacy in which to become lovers. He’d wanted to marry her, though she was not sure that she wanted marriage. Here he was, but she didn’t feel warm and eager at the sight of him. Friendship was there, but passion was gone.

Worse, a part of her wasn’t surprised by the change. They’d been apart for such a long time, with only letters to keep their feelings alive. So much had happened, too much, all of it more vivid and recent than her memories of him. She didn’t want Cleon as a lover now, of that she was sure. There was work to be done. She wanted no lovers until she had settled the Nothing Man’s account.

Kel looked down at her plate. Maybe Cleon wouldn’t see her.

Merric of Hollyrose, at the end of her table, jumped to his feet. ‘Cleon!’ he yelled. Everyone looked at the newcomer and called out greetings. Prince Roald waved him over. Kel fixed a smile on her face.

Cleon too smiled when he saw Kel, but he didn’t seem to notice that Neal offered him a seat beside her. Instead, Cleon took a chair near the prince.

‘Why are you here?’ asked Faleron of King’s Reach. He was one of the knights destined to defend the seacoast. ‘You’re headed the wrong way.’

Cleon glanced at Kel, then looked at Faleron. ‘I got a mage message asking me to come home soonest. You’ve heard there’s flooding in the southwest hills?’

Faleron, whose home was near Cleon’s, sighed. ‘It’s bad,’ he said. ‘Father said a lot of fiefdoms lost their entire stores of grain – oh, no. Yours?’

Cleon nodded, his mouth a grim line. ‘The Lictas River went over its banks and wiped out our storehouses. I’ve got to help Mother raise funds so our people can plant this year.’

Kel met Cleon’s eyes. They had often talked about his home. She knew his estates were short of money.

Abruptly, Cleon stood. ‘May I have a word, Kel? Alone?’

She couldn’t refuse. Her thoughts tumbled as she followed him outside. They stood under the eaves that sheltered the inn’s door, the wind blowing rain onto them. She wondered if he’d noticed she hadn’t moved to kiss him, then realized that he had not tried to kiss her, either. Suddenly she knew what was coming.

‘I’ve just one way to get coin for grain and the livestock we lost, Kel,’ he said. ‘The moneylenders only give Mother polite regrets. I have to marry Ermelian of Aminar or my people will starve this winter.’ He turned away. ‘I’m so sorry. I’d thought, if we had time …’

Relief poured through Kel. She wouldn’t have to hurt him. ‘We knew our chances weren’t good,’ she said over the rattle of sheaves of rain. ‘We did talk about it.’

‘I know,’ he said hoarsely, standing with his back to her. ‘Even knowing I couldn’t break the betrothal honourably, I went ahead and dreamed. That’s the problem with being able to think. It means you wish for things you can’t have.’

Kel wished she could comfort him. Even beyond kisses, he was her friend. She laid a hand on his back. ‘Cleon—’

‘Don’t.’ He twitched away from her touch. ‘I can’t – I’m as good as married now. It wouldn’t be right.’

Relief flooded her again. Cleon was too honourable to kiss her or let her touch him now that he’d agreed to his marriage. She felt shallow, coldhearted, and sorry for him.

‘You said you liked her, when we were on progress,’ she reminded him. ‘You said she’s nice. It could be much worse. People do find happiness, when they’re married to someone good.’

The awful grinding sound that came from his throat was supposed to be a laugh. ‘That’s you, Kel, making the best of it,’ he said. He rubbed his eyes with his arm before he turned to face her. ‘You’re right. I saw her while we were on progress. It was after you left to help that village after the earthquake. She is nice. She’s also pretty and kind. Some of our friends can’t say as much about the wives arranged for them. She just isn’t you. She isn’t my friend, or my comrade.’ He tried to smile.

Kel’s heart hurt. Cleon was still her friend, if not her lover. ‘Come inside,’ she told him. ‘Dry out, and eat. We’ll do our duty, like we’re supposed to. And we can be friends, surely. Nothing changes that.’

‘No,’ he whispered. ‘Nothing will ever change that.’ He raised a hand as if to touch her cheek, then lowered it and went inside.

Kel didn’t cry for her friend and the sudden, hard changes in their lives until she was safe in bed and Tobe was lightly snoring on his pallet. She thought she’d muffled herself until he said, ‘It’s awright, lady. I’d be ascairt, too, goin’ off for savages to shoot at.’

Kel choked, dried her eyes on her nightshirt sleeve, and turned onto her back. ‘It’s not the war, Tobe,’ she replied. She groped for the handkerchief on her bedside table, sat up, and blew her nose. ‘I’ve been shot at. I can bear it. I’m crying because my friend is unhappy and everything is changing.’

‘Is that what you’re ’posed to do?’ he asked. ‘Cry for your friends, though they ain’t dead? Cry when things change?’

‘If the changes are hard ones,’ Kel replied. ‘If they take away the things you knew were good.’ She wiped her nose, trying to decide what else to say. How could he not know about sorrow for a friend? ‘Don’t you cry when your friends are hurt?’

‘Dunno,’ he said. ‘Never had no friends, ’cept maybe Auld Eulama, an’ she only cried when the drink was in her.’

Kel sat breathless for a moment. Tobe sounded as if this was all he’d ever expected his world to be.

‘You have friends now,’ she told him. ‘And with luck, Peachblossom and Jump and I won’t do any crying for you.’

‘I hope not, lady,’ he said. From the rustle of cloth, she guessed he was preparing to go back to sleep. ‘It don’t sound like any kind of fun.’

Cleon left in the morning. Two days later the army split. One part was bound for the western coast. Another turned east. The rest, including Kel, Neal, and Tobe, turned north with fully half of the army that had left Corus. Tobe, now with his own cloak and hat to shed the rain, rode Hoshi as Kel’s personal groom. Watching him made Kel feel good. Tobe looked like a proper boy at last, not a little old man in a child’s body.

Ten days later General Vanget haMinch, supreme commander of Tortall’s northern defences, met them in Bearsford, the last fortress town on the Great Road North before the border. His presence told Kel how important it was to get the new forces into position quickly. Normally they would have gone to headquarters at Northwatch Fortress to receive their orders.

Vanget wasted no time in giving out assignments. Two days after they reached Bearsford, Kel, the other first-year knights, and fifty senior knights accompanied Duke Baird and his healers to Fort Giantkiller. Lord Wyldon of Cavall, Kel’s former training master, commanded there; he would give out their final postings. Lord Raoul would ride a day or two with them before he turned west to take command at Fort Steadfast.

‘Do you know where these forts are?’ Kel asked him as the last of the army prepared to break up.

‘I’ve been informed,’ Raoul said drily. ‘You actually know where Giantkiller is. Third Company named the fort we built with them last summer that, supposedly in honour of me.’ He made a face. Third Company of the King’s Own had waited until Raoul wasn’t there to protest before they named the fort. Raoul continued, ‘Vanget moved Third Company to Steadfast. He’s sending regular army troops to Fort Giantkiller.’

He hugged Kel briefly. ‘Gods all bless, Kel. Trust your instincts – they’re good. Try to survive the summer. I don’t want your mother or Alanna coming after me if you get killed.’

Kel grinned as he swung into the saddle. She wished she were going with him, but she knew that everyone who mattered wanted to see how she did without his protection.

‘Lady knight, come on,’ Neal called. ‘Let’s go and see if the Stump’s forgotten us.’

Kel mounted up. ‘Don’t call Lord Wyldon that,’ she told him as they rode out of Bearsford. ‘I doubt he’s forgotten you. He never threatened anyone else that he’d tie his tongue in a knot.’

‘Threats are the last resort of a man with no vocabulary,’ Neal said, nose in the air.

‘Well, I have a vocabulary,’ said his father, riding behind them. ‘I have often wished I could tie your tongue in a knot. Several of them. I can describe them, if you like.’

‘It’s my fate to be misunderstood,’ Neal announced. He fell back to ride with the more sympathetic Merric.

As the knights shifted riding order, Kel found herself beside Duke Baird. She had often seen Neal’s father for healing after her fights in the palace and felt comfortable enough to talk to him. ‘Your grace, if you don’t mind my asking, what are you doing here?’ she enquired. ‘As the royal healer, shouldn’t you be in Corus?’

‘My assistant has to show whether or not he can step into my office,’ Neal’s father replied. He was a tall, lanky man. His eyes, a darker green than Neal’s, were set in deep sockets. His hair was redder than his son’s, but his nose was the same. ‘It’s time to see if he can handle the nobility alone. And I have experience in the layout of refugee camps.’

‘Refugee camps?’ Kel repeated.

‘When villages are destroyed and there are too many people for single lords to take in, someone must care for them. That’s particularly true here, where people scrabble to feed their own.’ He gestured towards their surroundings: thick woods and stony ridges, the unforgiving north. ‘We need camps for the refugees. We also need field hospitals for the wounded now that we’re faced with all-out war.’

For a moment Kel said nothing, thinking of the grim picture he’d just painted. Could she bear the sight of hundreds who’d been cast from their homes? ‘How do you stand it, your grace?’ she asked quietly.

‘By doing the best I can,’ Baird replied, as quiet as Kel. ‘By remembering my wife, my daughters, and the sons I have left. I can’t afford to brood. Too many people need me.’ He sighed. ‘I worry about Neal,’ he confessed. ‘He tries to hide it, but he’s sensitive.’

Kel nodded. Baird was right.

‘If you are placed together, will you watch him?’ asked Baird suddenly. ‘He respects you, despite the difference in your ages. You’re sensible and level-headed. He listens to you.’

Kel stared at the duke, then nodded again. ‘I will look out for him if I can,’ she replied honestly.

They reached Fief Tirrsmont at twilight and spent the night behind the castle’s grey stone walls. The lord of Tirrsmont pleaded scant room inside the buildings of his inner bailey. He also pleaded scant food, though he feasted Duke Baird and two of the senior knights, along with his own family, on suckling pig, saffron rice, and other delicacies.

Camped in the outer bailey, the army was jammed in among thin, ragged survivors of last year’s fighting who were housed there. Kel looked into the commoners’ haunted eyes and felt rage burn her heart. Most of the newcomers’ rations of porridge and bacon went to the refugees. They accepted the food in silence and fled.

‘How can they treat their own people so shabbily?’ Kel asked Neal. ‘The lord and his family look well fed.’

‘You worry too much about commoners,’ remarked Quinden of Marti’s Hill, who shared the first-years’ fire. ‘They always look as pathetic as they can so we’ll feed them. I’ve never met a commoner who doesn’t beg while they hide what they’ve stolen from you.’

‘You’re an obnoxious canker-blossom,’ Neal snapped. ‘Go and ooze somewhere else.’

‘On your way, Quinden,’ added Merric. ‘Before we help you along.’

Quinden spat into their fire to further express his opinion, then wandered off.

‘I pity the folk of Marti’s Hill when he inherits,’ murmured Kel.

In the morning they rode on to Fort Giantkiller. This was country that Kel knew, though the trees were bare and the ground clothed in snow and ice. They were entering the patrol area she had covered the year before with Third Company. This was hard land, with little farming soil. Any wealth came from the fur trade, silver mines, logging, and fishing. They might have trouble feeding themselves if supply trains didn’t arrive. On the bright side, the enemy would have even more trouble staying fed, with the mighty Vassa River at their backs to cut off supplies from Scanra.

Some daylight remained when they reached Fort Giantkiller. Kel saw many changes. The fort had been turned from a quickly built home for a company of over one hundred into a fortress with two encircling walls. An abatis had been installed on the outer wall: a number of logs sharpened on the forward end, planted in the side of the ditch. They made a thorny barrier that horses would baulk at trying to jump. Watchtowers now stood at each corner of the inner wall. The Tortallan flag snapped in the wind. Below it flapped the commanding officer’s banner, a rearing black dog with a black sword in its paws on a white field bordered in gold: the arms of Fief Cavall. Below it were the flags of the army brigade charged with the defence of the district.

Inside, Kel saw even more changes. Third Company’s tents were gone, replaced by two-storey log buildings. Giantkiller now housed at least five hundred men, their horses, and supplies. Lord Wyldon had taken command of the district when Kel and Lord Raoul had ridden south for her Ordeal. He must have rushed to get all his troops decently housed before winter put a stop to most outdoor work.

‘Kel, Kel!’ someone cried. A stocky young man barrelled into her, flinging strong arms around her to give her a crushing squeeze.

‘Mithros save us, I’d forgotten the Brat,’ Quinden muttered behind Kel.

Kel looked down an inch into a familiar round face and laughed. Owen of Jesslaw’s grey eyes blazed with delight; a grin revealed wide-spaced front teeth. His cap of brown curls tumbled over his forehead. As Wyldon’s squire, he wore his master’s badge. ‘We knew you couldn’t hold the border alone, so we came to lend a hand,’ she said as he released her. Owen’s wild courage was a byword among the pages and squires; he would throw himself into a fight even when he was outnumbered.

‘Neal, you came!’ Owen cried as he crouched to scratch the gleeful Jump’s lone ear. Sparrows swirled around his head as he did so, cheeping their own welcome. ‘Merric, Seaver, Esmond, you’re here!’ He looked up, saw Duke Baird, and straightened abruptly. ‘My lord duke, welcome to Fort Giantkiller,’ he said with a graceful bow. ‘Forgive my inattention. If I may take your mount, your grace?’

‘Mithros save us, the Stump broke him to bridle,’ Neal said, his voice dry as he dismounted. ‘I thought it was impossible.’

‘Do not let me catch that nickname on your lips as long as you are under the man’s command,’ Duke Baird told Neal sternly as he gave his reins to Owen. ‘You owe him the appearance of respect, not to mention proper obedience.’

Neal met his father’s gaze, scowled, then bowed silently. Owen whistled softly; Kel, too, was astounded. She had thought nothing could make Neal back down so quickly.

‘’Scuse me, lady.’ Kel turned. There stood Tobe with Hoshi’s reins. ‘I’ll take ’im now.’

Kel gave Peachblossom’s reins to Tobe. ‘Check his hooves, please?’ she asked.

‘Yes, lady,’ the boy said. He headed towards the stables, gelding and mare in tow.

‘Who was that?’ The shocked whisper came from Owen. Kel glanced at him: her friend stared gape-jawed at Tobe. ‘Did you see that? He just – Peachblossom! He just took Peachblossom, and Peachblossom went!’

Kel smiled. ‘That’s Tobe,’ she explained. ‘He is good with horses.’

Duke Baird cleared his throat. ‘Did my lord Wyldon say what was to be done with us?’ he enquired tactfully. A proper squire would have bustled the duke away at the first opportunity. Kel was relieved that Lord Wyldon hadn’t changed Owen completely.

‘Your grace, forgive me,’ Owen said with a deep bow. ‘My lord is out riding patrol yet, but I am to show you where you will sleep and ask if you will dine with him later. To the knights who accompany you’ – he bowed to the group that stood behind the duke and Kel – ‘he sends greetings. Lukin will show you to your quarters’ – he beckoned a soldier forward – ‘and lead you to supper when you choose. My lord asks you to remain in the officers’ mess hall after supper. He will send for you to talk of your assignments.’

Lukin bowed and beckoned; other soldiers swarmed forward to take charge of the newcomers. Kel, Jump, and the sparrows followed them as Owen guided Duke Baird to headquarters.

Over supper with the officers in their mess hall, the newly arrived knights got some idea of what they would face when the fighting began. So interesting was the talk that Kel didn’t realize immediately that Owen came from time to time to lead knights from the mess hall. When he gathered up three at once, she realized he was taking them to Wyldon for orders.

Kel watched as Owen led the knights away. The men’s backs were straight under their tunics, their air businesslike as they left. Were any afraid? she wondered. Did they have unsettled dreams of war, as she did? Were any hoping for a post in a fortified place with orders that kept them from battle? Some would get part of the district to guard, with squads of soldiers to command and a small fort to build. Others would go to Wyldon’s new fortress between Giantkiller and Steadfast, to the town of Riversedge, or to the castles, to be placed under a senior commander. Some would remain here.

Owen came for Quinden, Seaver, and Esmond, then for Neal and Merric. Suddenly Kel realized that she was the last newly arrived knight to be called. A fist clenched in her belly. She didn’t like this. She didn’t like it at all.