This time she used the kerchief as target, surrounding it on all sides. Hal asked him if she had learned the skill from Morency himself and Gryff answered that he did not know, nor did he care to ask. The lord of Morency was a favorite of the king, and the lady of Morency was Will’s sister. It was easy to say too much to Nan, to reveal enough of himself to her that she might learn who he was, and one day speak of him to those she served. They were members of a world that might yet seek to imprison or kill him, so he did not speak to her of them.

When she emerged from the darkness again to pull her knives from the ground, Hal called out softly to her. She stiffened, but did not startle. She must have known they watched.

“You need not throw only into the dirt. That wooden post there, and the lintel. You may throw where you like.” She looked doubtful, timid, her eyes roaming around the yard. “In faith, there is naught you can damage. Come, I will be glad of the diversion.”

She seemed to take it to heart, and spent the next hour in a display of such skill that it amazed him anew. She threw the knives into the post, a straight line from top to bottom, then a double line along the side, then whatever pattern Hal suggested. She threw the nails, too, from the bag she carried, filling in the spaces between the blades and never striking metal upon metal.

When they asked if she could hit a target unseen she brought the lamp to her corner of the yard, leaving the post in darkness, and threw. It was a sight to behold. The dog at her feet, she looked ahead into the blackness and drew her knives, one after the other, methodical and sure. Some she threw with her left hand and some with her right, some by the handle and others by the tip of the blade. Every one of them landed with a thump, so it was not a surprise when she went forward with the lamp to reveal the post full of knives – but it was a surprise to see the short blades in a circle, the longer blades arranged in a square within it, and one nail at the center.

“She must have learned from Morency,” he said to Hal, observing the tiny prideful smile she was trying to suppress. “If not the skill, then the taste for spectacle.”

Hal smiled. “Is a vanity well earned.” He hefted the child up on his chest and said, “My arms will take no more, and the morning will come soon enough. I’ll bid you good night.”