"They didn't attack Thirst. Who is spreading that tale?" Thum replied. "But it was bad enough, by what I've heard. None of us fosters were allowed in the battle, thanks to you and Mierre."

Dain frowned. "What do you mean? Am I to be blamed next for lightning striking the tower? For the sky turning dark? For the rain that's falling? What else?" "Do not turn your bad temper on me. You asked what's amiss, and I am only telling you."

"I am not angry at you," Dain said by way of apology. Thum nodded, then sighed gloomily. "What's all the practice and training for, if we're to be kept in the hold with the women and children?" "Saw you none of the battle?" Dain asked in sympathy.

"Nay, not one blow."

"Who gave such an order, keeping you home?"

"Sir Bosquecel. He said we were lazy, unprepared louts who couldn't bear arms any better than the serfs."

Dain blinked in astonishment. "But that's not true. Nor is it fair." "None of this is fair," Thum said. "You have no idea of how angry he is. Well, they all are. Squabbles and quarreling in all directions, for days now. And once the Lunt knights came, there's been trouble with them as well. They eat like horses and drink like fish. And gamble? Morde! But it's worst between Sir Polquin and Sir Bosquecel. They blame each other for what happened. It looked like they might come to blows on the practice field the day of the contest, and they are not speaking to each other still."

Dain frowned, trying to make sense of all this. "Because I left the contest?" "Nay, because of Mierre.

Oh, I tell you, Dain, you and he both have caused more upset this week than I could think of to do in a year."

"I wish you would tell your story straight and not jump from one thing to another," Dain complained. "I do not understand what happened." "Well, and while there was all the trouble over the contest and Mierre, you were discovered missing."

"I left in plain sight with Lander," Dain said defensively. "Aye, so the guards said. But Lander told no one where he was going, nor did you. Lord Odfrey believed you would not stay with the smith but instead strike out on your own. And then Lord Renald rode in with news of Nonkind raiders. Lord Odfrey sent men out searching near and far for you. He was certain you'd be killed."

"I've been dodging Nonkind all my life," Dain said with a shrug. "He had no need to worry." "Well, he did, just the same. And so did Sir Terent and Sir Polquin-and all of us."

Dain frowned, feeling bad. "I did not mean for anyone to worry. I was fine." "Lord Renald was angered that men were spared to search. He said everyone was needed for fighting, even fosters. That's when Lord Odfrey forbade any of us, from the prince down to yours truly, to leave the hold." Uncomfortable, knowing he'd done wrong to cause them such concern, Dain changed the subject. "Who won the contest?"

"Mierre, of course."

Dain hissed through his teeth. He was not surprised, but the idea of that hulking bully serving Lord Odfrey infuriated him. From now on it would be Mierre who burnished the chevard's armor, Mierre who honed and polished his weapons, Mierre who fed his dogs, Mierre who rode at the chevard's flank along with Sir Roye. Dain had wanted that position with all his heart, for he craved Lord Odfrey's attention. He wanted to repay the man for his kindness this year by serving him better than any squire had done before.

But instead it would be Mierre, churlish and lazy, at Lord Odfrey's side. Before today's attack, Dain had always disliked Mierre, but now he hated him as much as he hated the prince. They were two of a kind, cruel and self-centered. How could Lord Odfrey stand to have Mierre in his service?

"And you, Thum?" Dain asked irritably. "Couldn't you find a way to defeat him that day? I would have had the honor go to you."

"Thank you, but once I was unhorsed by Mierre's lance, that finished me." Thum touched his face proudly. "That's how I came by this." Dain admired his puffy and discolored eye. "I have never seen a better one. Did it hurt much?"

"No," Thum boasted. "Well, not much. But you should have seen it the first night, swelled out to here. I couldn't open my eye, and Sulein thought I might lose it."

"Like Sir Roye," Dain said, both revolted and fascinated by the idea.

"I'm glad to have my sight as good as ever," Thum said, betraying his relief. "It would be hard to earn my knight's spurs with only one eye. I had no balance while it was swelled so, and I kept b.u.mping into things." "If you're going to lose an eye, it should be after you're knighted and happen while you're in a great battle," Dain told him. "Not in a small contest with padded weapons."

"Aye," Thum agreed fervently. He placed his hand over his heart. Making a fancy bow, he said in falsetto voice, "And now, dear maiden fair, let me tell you how I came by my scar. Neither in battle nor in king's joust, but only by riding full tilt into my practice opponent's lance like a dolt and unhorsing myself." Dain laughed. "Unhorsed by the quintain."

Thum laughed with him. "Aye! Mierre is stupid enough to be a practice dummy." Dain puffed out his chest and spun about stiffly in an effort to imitate Mierre, but it made his arm hurt and he stopped the play with a wince. Thum sobered abruptly. "But you have taken real injury at his hands. Is it true what little Hueh says, that both the blackguards fought you at once?" Dain hesitated, but he saw no reason to deny it. "Aye," he said grimly. "They did. Pagans deserve no honorable treatment, I suppose." "Do not say that!" Thum said angrily. He scowled. "The cowards. They are both bad to the heart. The day they leave this hold can't come too soon for me." "Leave?" Dain echoed in puzzlement. "But if Mierre is Lord Odfrey's squire-" "But he isn't!" Thum said. His hazel eyes danced with more news. "I wish you had stayed to see it. The contest ended, with me on the ground and my mouth full of dirt, and Mierre wasdeclared winner. Sir Terent looked like he'd eaten sour fruit, and Sir Nynth would not applaud."

Imagining it, Dain smiled. "What happened? Did Lord Odfrey refuse to have him?

That's wise, for he-"

"Nay!" Thum said. "Let me tell you. Lord Odfrey had his stone face on-you know how he looks at times."

"Aye," Dain said ruefully. "I know very well."

"He stood before us with Sir Polquin and Sir Roye flanking him, and he conferred the offer of squire on Mierre according to the rules of the contest." Thum paused and gripped Dain's arm hard. "Mierre turned him down." Dain gasped. "What?"

"Aye. Turned him down with cool hauteur, like Lord Odfrey was dirt to him. It's plain he's learned that manner from the prince, but it did him no credit. Sir Bosquecel was furious, and Sir Polquin more so.

Everyone witnessed the grave insult to Lord Odfrey, but we could not believe it. Had Mierre refused such an offer from a sentry-rank knight, I might understand. But no one turns down the chance to be a chevard's squire, especially a warrior of such valor and repute as our Lord Odfrey."

Dain frowned, angry on Lord Odfrey's behalf, though relieved as well. Still, it made no sense. "But why would Mierre refuse? Does he think another knight will offer him a better position? Where? Can his father provide-" "Rumor has it. . ." Thum paused dramatically, his hazel eyes dancing. "Promise you will not spread it, Dain."

"I am the last person in this hold to know about the matter," Dain said tartly.

"Where would I spread such news? Speak!"

"Well, the rumor in the guardhouse is that Mierre is hoping to be named Prince Gavril's squire."

"That surprises me not," Dain said. "No one toadies to Gavril more than he does."

"But it's an awful risk."

"Why? Gavril favors him."

"But the prince is not yet knighted. He can take no squire until he has his spurs."

"In a month he'll have them," Dain said. "I see no risk if the prince has promised him-"

"But has he?" Thum asked.

Dain frowned. "Has he not?"

"Nothing has been said officially."

"What has that to do with anything?" "Dain, don't you understand court politics at all?"

"No," Dain said defensively. "How could I?"

"Oh. When Gavril's knighted, he is going to be named Heir to the Realm. That means the n.o.bles acknowledge him as the official successor to the throne." "I thought he already was," Dain said.

"Nay."

"He gives himself enough airs."

"Wait until he's knighted," Thum said darkly. "There'll be no holding him back then. But it's certain that his squire has already been chosen and will be the son of a duc or cardinal, someone of the first rank.

Gavril is far too important to be squired by an uplander of minor lineage."

Dain thought of Mierre, a young oaf who clearly burned with ambition to better himself. "There's been a promise made between them," he guessed. "And no matter what the custom may be, Gavril does what he wants." "Not in affairs of state. He can't," Thum argued. "Just as his marriage has been planned for him from birth to his cousin Pheresa. There is no official engagement as yet, for the Heir to the Realm must do his own choosing of a bride. But by custom it must-or at least should-be this lady. Everyone at court, especially the king, expects Gavril to ask her."

"I hope she is a hag and her face sours his breakfast every morning," Dain said. Thum laughed. "Mierre is gambling heavily, but I think he will be the loser by aiming too high."

"So who is going to be Lord Odfrey's squire?" Dain asked. The merriment dimmed from Thum's eyes and he shook his head. "I know not. It's something no one dares ask him, for the chevard's mood has been dark indeed this week. Why did you leave the contest grounds, Dain? You were right to be angry. I would have been too, but you should have stayed out of courtesy." Dain stared at his friend, and saw disappointment lurking in Thum's bruised face. He understood then that Thum had wanted him to stay and cheer for him. Contrition filled Dain. He put out his hand. "I am sorry," he said quietly. "You think me a poor friend."

Thum gripped his hand. "Nay," he said loyally. "Not poor, but sometimes hard to understand."

Dain sighed. "You must teach me how to do better. My ways are not yours. I do not mean to offend you."

"It's Lord Odfrey you must not offend," Thum said.

Dain's eyes flew wide open. "Oh, G.o.ds! The chevard! I should have reported to him long ago. If he was angry with me before, I have little chance of appeasing him now."

"d.a.m.ne, you will have no appeal," Thum agreed worriedly. "I beg your pardon for chattering so long."

Dain headed for the door, and Thum went with him.

"Dain, you look mortal pale in the face. Are you feeling faint?" "Nay," Dain answered, his courage sinking like a lead weight. "Though I wish I could faint and put off this meeting." "You dare not."

"Better to get it over with." Swallowing hard, Dain wished he'd never left the hold now. Even the two gold pieces in his pocket were not worth all this. His own angry defiance had faded. He understood plainly why Lord Odfrey must be infuriated with him. And the chevard's temper was never easy to face.

Dain sent Thum a look of appeal. "Stay with me?"

"Aye," Thum said like the stalwart friend he was. Of course, since he was not in disgrace he had little to fear, Dain reminded himself.

Together they headed for Lord Odfrey's wardroom.

Sentry knights stood on duty outside Lord Odfrey's door. Servants were walking down the length of the pa.s.sageway, lighting torches that drove back the shadows. The servants cast Dain sharp, speculative looks and whispered among themselves.

His face felt hot. Stiffly, he walked past them, pretending he did not notice. One of the knights, Sir Blait, held up his hand to stop Dain's approach. "I'll relieve you of your dagger, Dain," he said gruffly.

Dain's throat closed up with embarra.s.sment and anger. Beside him, Thum began to murmur about offense and insult, but Dain elbowed him to be quiet. In silence, his face stiff and hot, he drew his dagger and handed it over hilt-first.

"Will you take mine as well, Sir Blait?" Thum asked hotly. Sir Blait was gray-haired and stooped. Since his knees had begun to stiffen and ache he'd been demoted to sentry duty. Sour-tempered and gruff, he looked annoyed by Thum's remark. He said, "Nay, I have my orders. You know better than to spout your mouth where it's not wanted."

Thum's face turned red, but Dain did not want his friend to join him in disgrace.

"Thum," he said, his voice low and firm, "thank you, but perhaps you'd better go to your supper."

"I said I'd stay with you and I will."

Dain shook his head. "This trouble is mine now. Go and eat supper for us both." Thum scowled and opened his mouth to protest, then understanding dawned in his eyes. It was likely that Dain would get no supper tonight, and Thum could gather enough food to slip to him later. "I will," Thum said. He touched Dain's shoulder briefly as though to give him encouragement, then left. Sir Blait scowled at Dain and tapped on the door. "He's here, m'lord," he called out.

Lord Odfrey's voice responded, and Sir Blait pushed open the door. Without going in, Dain could see the chevard at his desk, which was piled high with dispatch scrolls, sc.r.a.ps of vellum and parchment, and a heavy book secured with a lock. One of Lord Odfrey's dogs lay snoring softly against the base of the ma.s.sive wooden desk. The chevard's boots stood by the empty hearth. The chevard himself sat in a pool of golden candlelight that cast shadows across the angle of his cheekbones and the firm jut of his chin. He wore an old-fashioned tunic of dark gray cloth, and from his shoulders down he blended into the shadows. When he lifted his gaze to meet Dain's, his dark eyes looked fathomless. "Enter," he said harshly. "I've waited long enough."

Dain gave Lord Odfrey a quick, nervous glance. Squaring his shoulders, he winced slightly and stepped over the threshold. Sir Blait shut the door behind him, and Dain felt suddenly short of breath and hemmedin by this small, cluttered room. It was very warm. No evening breeze blew through the small window, although Dain smelled rain on the air. He also caught the faintest whiff of Nonkind on the chevard's boots. It unsettled him.

Lord Odfrey went back to his writing. In the silence Dain could hear the faint scratching of the chevard's pen across the parchment. Knowing he was being tested, knowing he must not interrupt, Dain swallowed a sigh of impatience and wished he dared sit, for his knees were feeling weak and his arm throbbed. His famished stomach growled while he listened to faraway sounds of lute music and the clatter in the Hall that accompanied supper.

A tall-backed chair, handsomely carved, faced Lord Odfrey's desk. It looked ornate enough for a lord to sit on. Dain dared not touch it. A map lay thrown across its back. A beautiful thing, the map was colorfully ill.u.s.trated with vivid inks of scarlet and indigo and green. Tilting his head, Dain studied the geography of Mandria, ill.u.s.trated with splendid meadows, streams where rainbow-hued fish leaped, and an ornate palace topped by a crown that must represent Savroix, seat of Mandrian kings. Nold was drawn much smaller, and bordered by drawings of crossed axes. Many trees were sketched close together to represent the Dark Forest. Nold's ore-rich mountains were not drawn on the map at all, and the four largest dwarf settlements were marked in the wrong places. Klad was placed north of Nold and was a land Dain knew little about. He recognized it by the drawings of tents and herds of horned cattle.

A small portrait of a bearded barbarian with small squinty eyes and long braids of blond hair showed Dain the type of folk who must live there. Jorb had told Dain about selling a sword to a Kladite many years ago, but the Kladites seldom ventured beyond their own borders. They were said to eat hardened milk flavored with blood and to count their wealth by how many cows and wives they owned. Curious to see Nether, Dain leaned forward to look at the rest of the map. "Where have you been?" Lord Odfrey demanded. His voice was stern and harsh, his tone unforgiving.

Startled, Dain jumped and met Lord Odfrey's dark eyes. They looked almost black with anger. Dain's answer tangled in his throat. It all seemed suddenly too long and difficult to explain. He could not decide where to start or how to say it. "Dain, I'll not ask you again."

Thus warned, Dain took refuge in defiance. He shrugged. "I was seeing the world."

Lord Odfrey's fist slammed atop his desk, making a candle jump. "d.a.m.ne, boy! I'll brook none of your flippancy. You've been in this hold since chapel let out, perhaps longer. Why didn't you report to me at once?" "Did you think me unaware of your arrival? Sir Terent sent word from the gates immediately. He should have escorted you straight here himself. No doubt he thought he could trust you to follow orders.

Clearly he was wrong."

Embarra.s.sment flooded Dain. "I had-"

A knock on the door interrupted him. Lord Renald came tramping in without ceremony. He still wore his mail and stained surcoat, but had left his helmet and gauntlets elsewhere. With his brown hair curling almost to his shoulders, the chevard of Lunt looked young, hardly more than twenty. He wore no marriage ring on his hand, but a very fine sapphire ring glittered on his thumb. Dain caught himself mentally appraising its value, then looked away quickly. Lord Renald stared at Dain with a lift of his brows, but it was to Lord Odfrey that he spoke: "So here he is."

"Yes, finally," Lord Odfrey snapped.

There was no gladness in his voice, no relief, no relenting. Dain frowned, and his own anger and resentment came surging back. Neither man, however, was paying Dain any heed.

"Forgive me, Odfrey," Lord Renald said, frowning. "My man had orders to see him safely into your hands, but he failed."

"Aye, that he did," Lord Odfrey said grimly.

"I have questioned Sir Metain. It seems he thought delivering the boy within your walls good enough.

I've dealt with that misconception." Lord Odfrey nodded while Dain looked from one to the other, still wondering what they were talking about. "It is no fault of yours, Renald," Lord Odfrey said bleakly. "At least you found him and brought him back." Frowning, Dain tried to protest. "But I was on my way home-" "Aye, I found the young devil. Jaunting along in a mule cart with a Netheran." Lord Renald shot Dain a look of distrust and suspicion. "What enchantment did he bear, to be able to pa.s.s through the river lands without even a scratch, while the befouled ran there, killing as they pleased? Had I known, had I suspected him of being an a.s.sa.s.sin, I would have-" "Enough," Lord Odfrey said, lifting his hand.

"a.s.sa.s.sin?" Dain said, unable to keep quiet. "Me? But I am not!"

"They've called for him," Lord Renald said, ignoring Dain's outburst. "They want an accounting."

Lord Odfrey scowled in visible exasperation. "Nonsense. It's a ridiculous accusation, and a waste of time. He-" "It must be done, Odfrey. The vote was just cast for trial." A bleak, defeated expression entered Lord Odfrey's face. He rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose a moment as though fatigued. "The fools play into the prince's hands," he murmured. "Morde! I hoped it would not come to this. A quiet talk here would do as well. Why must he make a huge drama of the matter?" Lord Renald's face held no expression, but his eyes were not unkind. They flicked to Dain's face, then returned to Lord Odfrey. "Let me take the eld to them. You need not come."

"Take me where?" Dain asked suspiciously, feeling the urge to escape. Lord Odfrey rose to his feet.

"Thank you, but no. Dain is my responsibility. I brought him into the hold last winter. I brought this risk to his highness. I will see the matter through to its end."

"As you wish," Lord Renald said with a slight bow. "Will it damage your standing with the king?"

Lord Odfrey gestured impatiently. "I cannot be worried with that now."

"Best you do think of it. It's unwise to lose the king's friendship."

"We are a long way from court."

"A private messenger from the prince has already been turned back at your gates and prevented from leaving," Lord Renald said. "And how will that be interpreted?"

"d.a.m.ne!" Lord Odfrey said. "Prince Gavril schemes like a churchman. He has forced this trial on us and now he tries to bring a higher authority into it. Morde a day, if his highness wants a trial he'll have it, but we'll hold to the law on every point. The truth of this will be decided by my knights and yours. No one else, for that is the law."

"Mandrian law for an eld?" Lord Renald asked softly. Lord Odfrey's face was stone. "There will be no church inquisitor in my Hall." Dain stared at them both, his mouth open with alarm. He did not yet understand what was wrong or how he could be accused of a crime worth trial and possible inquisitors,but he knew himself to be in dire trouble.