Company—”
“Of course,” Duke Marrakai said. “Well, Gwenno?”
“Yes!” the girl said. “Yes, thank you, lord Duke.”
“Then we can sign the papers tonight, if you will, Dorrin, and get this pesky wench out of our house—” But his look at Gwenno was tender, not dismissive.
“She cannot go tonight,” Lady Marrakai said firmly. “She mustpack, and I must make her shoulder knots in the Verrakai colors immediately. Two days for Verrakai-blue tunics.”
“And I must find another couple of squires,” Dorrin said. “There will be work enough for more, as you said.”
In Marrakai’s office, the Duke wrote out the legal contract specifying the duties of lord and squire, much the same as Dorrin had seen for Kieri’s squires. Gwennothlin signed in a very clear hand, her expression solemn, and then Dorrin; both the Duke and his lady signed below. Dorrin wrote the copy, and all signed again.
“I thank you for trusting me with your daughter,” Dorrin said. “And you, Gwenno, for trusting me with your life. I hope you will be happy—though that is not in the list of a squire’s duties.”
“There’s no doubt in my mind about this one,” Marrakai said. He gave Gwenno a hug and a kiss on each cheek. “Spread your wings, daughter.”
Invitations from Dukes Mahieran and Serrostin came the next day; Dorrin met the boys and agreed. Tall Beclan had the polish of a youth who had been always at court; Daryan, two years younger, had not yet come to his growth and was a slight boy with light reddish hair. When Count Kostvan also invited her to take his second son as squire, she explained that she did not feel able to take four squires yet. He nodded, seeming resigned.
Lady Marrakai’s contacts sent recommendations for a children’s tutor, an estate steward, brewmasters, dyers, weavers, and housewardens to care for the Vérella house while she was away. Dorrin interviewed them all and made her choices. The housewardens—an older couple looking for a less strenuous job—moved in immediately, freeing her servants from some of the household chores. Dorrin had a final interview with the king and then her banker—a frightening glimpse of how much it cost to be a duke.
At last she could think of leaving the city; she sent word to her squires’ families. They arrived at the house the following morning with horses, gear, and brand-new Verrakai livery, with the colors of their own houses at their shoulders.
“Stables down that alley,” she said. “We’re short-handed right now; you’ll care for your own mounts. We’re leaving tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, my lord,” came in a ragged chorus, and they disappeared into the alley. When they came back inside, she took them on a quick tour of the house.
“As I’m sure you heard, this house was seized under the Order of Attainder, so I did not bring sufficient staff with me—” That was as good an explanation as any. “The Crown has returned it, but too late to hire locals. So it’s more like camping in a house than living here. Here’s where you’ll sleep—” Two small rooms, one with two simple beds, one with only one. “Don’t settle in—as we’re leaving tomorrow, you’ll be helping pack up for the trip home for the rest of the day. There’s a meeting at Marshal Veksin’s grange tonight; you have my permission to attend.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“My father’s sending along two pack mules,” Beclan said, “with the rest of my clothes, weapons, and so on.”
“And mine,” Gwennothlin said. “But only
one
mule.” She shot a quick glance at Dorrin, as if for approval.
“I thought girls had more baggage,” Beclan said.
“I thought boys had less,” Gwennothlin said.
“Are your fathers sending someone to tend the mules, or will you be doing that?” Dorrin asked, interrupting what promised to become a quarrel.
“I’ll ask,” Beclan said. He took a step toward the door, then paused. “That is, my lord, if I have your
“Of course,” Duke Marrakai said. “Well, Gwenno?”
“Yes!” the girl said. “Yes, thank you, lord Duke.”
“Then we can sign the papers tonight, if you will, Dorrin, and get this pesky wench out of our house—” But his look at Gwenno was tender, not dismissive.
“She cannot go tonight,” Lady Marrakai said firmly. “She mustpack, and I must make her shoulder knots in the Verrakai colors immediately. Two days for Verrakai-blue tunics.”
“And I must find another couple of squires,” Dorrin said. “There will be work enough for more, as you said.”
In Marrakai’s office, the Duke wrote out the legal contract specifying the duties of lord and squire, much the same as Dorrin had seen for Kieri’s squires. Gwennothlin signed in a very clear hand, her expression solemn, and then Dorrin; both the Duke and his lady signed below. Dorrin wrote the copy, and all signed again.
“I thank you for trusting me with your daughter,” Dorrin said. “And you, Gwenno, for trusting me with your life. I hope you will be happy—though that is not in the list of a squire’s duties.”
“There’s no doubt in my mind about this one,” Marrakai said. He gave Gwenno a hug and a kiss on each cheek. “Spread your wings, daughter.”
Invitations from Dukes Mahieran and Serrostin came the next day; Dorrin met the boys and agreed. Tall Beclan had the polish of a youth who had been always at court; Daryan, two years younger, had not yet come to his growth and was a slight boy with light reddish hair. When Count Kostvan also invited her to take his second son as squire, she explained that she did not feel able to take four squires yet. He nodded, seeming resigned.
Lady Marrakai’s contacts sent recommendations for a children’s tutor, an estate steward, brewmasters, dyers, weavers, and housewardens to care for the Vérella house while she was away. Dorrin interviewed them all and made her choices. The housewardens—an older couple looking for a less strenuous job—moved in immediately, freeing her servants from some of the household chores. Dorrin had a final interview with the king and then her banker—a frightening glimpse of how much it cost to be a duke.
At last she could think of leaving the city; she sent word to her squires’ families. They arrived at the house the following morning with horses, gear, and brand-new Verrakai livery, with the colors of their own houses at their shoulders.
“Stables down that alley,” she said. “We’re short-handed right now; you’ll care for your own mounts. We’re leaving tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, my lord,” came in a ragged chorus, and they disappeared into the alley. When they came back inside, she took them on a quick tour of the house.
“As I’m sure you heard, this house was seized under the Order of Attainder, so I did not bring sufficient staff with me—” That was as good an explanation as any. “The Crown has returned it, but too late to hire locals. So it’s more like camping in a house than living here. Here’s where you’ll sleep—” Two small rooms, one with two simple beds, one with only one. “Don’t settle in—as we’re leaving tomorrow, you’ll be helping pack up for the trip home for the rest of the day. There’s a meeting at Marshal Veksin’s grange tonight; you have my permission to attend.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“My father’s sending along two pack mules,” Beclan said, “with the rest of my clothes, weapons, and so on.”
“And mine,” Gwennothlin said. “But only
one
mule.” She shot a quick glance at Dorrin, as if for approval.
“I thought girls had more baggage,” Beclan said.
“I thought boys had less,” Gwennothlin said.
“Are your fathers sending someone to tend the mules, or will you be doing that?” Dorrin asked, interrupting what promised to become a quarrel.
“I’ll ask,” Beclan said. He took a step toward the door, then paused. “That is, my lord, if I have your
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