"Marshal, I don't question the sincerity of Girdsmen. You know that. We honor the same gods. But some fighters have abilities Gird does not use. She may be one of them." He turned back to Paks. "Paksenarrion, we agree that you have shown ability to fight evil. You have shown a desire to know more of good, and to fight for it. We both think you have been touched by the evil you've fought—not to contaminate you, but in such wise that you should not go back to ordinary soldiering. Do you agree?"

Paks was too bewildered to answer. Marshal Cedfer spoke up.

"Paksenarrion, when you came you said your Duke had recommended additional training—even toward a captaincy. We are prepared to guide you toward such training, but you must choose. I can give you a letter to the Marshal-General at Fin Panir; she will probably take my recommendation and let you study with the training order there. From that you can become a knight in either of the two Girdish orders—or even a paladin, if Gird's grace touches you."

"And I can give you introduction to the rangers of Lyonya," said the Kuakgan. "If you satisfied them, they might recommend you to the Knight-Commander of the Knights of Falk. That would be a few years away, however. But in either case, you would use your skills only in causes of good. If that way of fighting did not appeal, you could always leave."

"You could not take Suli with you, either way," said the Marshal. "That's why I asked. If you had contracted with her, the gnome merchants have told me that they can get you a contract from the gnome prince of Gnarrinfulk. Something in the way of soldiering, I don't know what. But if you aren't taking Suli, then—" He stopped and cocked his head, waiting for her answer.

"But I'm not Girdish," she managed to say. Nothing else came out.

"No. But I daresay that in Fin Panir, at the High Lord's Hall, after training with others of the faith, that Gird would make plain his interest in you." The Marshal leaned back a little in his chair. "I think he has already, Paksenarrion. When I think of the things you have come through—" Paks thought to herself that he didn't know the half of it. She had not told him all about Aarenis. She remembered what the priest of Achrya had said: "near enough a paladin. . . . Achrya will be pleased if I interfere in the growth of a paladin of Gird . . ." And the training at Fin Panir was famous throughout the north. She might become a knight—or even a paladin—she pushed the thought away. It was for the gods to think of such things, not a soldier. But the other way. Rangers—she knew nothing of them. The thought of more powers like the elfane taig daunted her, though she hated to admit it. And years of service, before she might think of the Knights of Falk.