"We have a guest here tonight," said the Marshal less formally. "Paksenarrion, come forward. I want all our yeomen to know you." Paks edged past the others to stand near the Marshal under the torches. "Though she is not a Girdsman, Paksenarrion is an experienced warrior. She has accepted my invitation to drill with us. Those of you who drill with swords will have a chance to cross blades with her if you wish. Now, bring your weapons and let me see—" The Marshal began to look over the weapons, commenting on their condition. He was as thorough as any of the Duke's armsmasters. Ambros explained that some of the weapons belonged to the men, and the rest were stored in the grange. Then the Marshal began assigning drills: some to one-on-one, others to two-on-one, and others to more basic exercises. When they were all occupied, he led Paks to a corner of the barton where Ambros waited with two short swords.

"If you don't mind," said the Marshal, "I'd like to work with these short swords. I suspect you are far more skilled with a short blade than I am. It would be best for the yeomen, I think, to learn the short. Of course, you'll want a chance to work with your own, but—"

"That's fine," said Paks. "But I haven't drilled with a short sword since leaving Aarenis. I may be clumsy with it."

"Not as clumsy as I am," said the Marshal. "I haven't been able to teach the men to fight in lines with it."

Paks unbuckled her long sword, racked it, and took one of the short ones from Ambros. "We used a small shield with these, in formation," she said. "Do you have shields?"

"Yes, but we rarely practice with them. As I said, most of our men are not at all skilled with swords. Once they learn that, then we'll try adding the shields." The Marshal, too, had taken a short blade; he gestured at another man to come over. He looked closely at Paks. "You aren't wearing your mail."

"No. I didn't think all of you would have mail." Paks wished she had a banda, but was not about to ask for one.

"Mmm. I always say, the stripes you take in training reinforce the lesson." The Marshal looked pleased, and the other two grinned. "Now—we'll warm up in pairs, then go two-against-two. Is that all right?"

"Surely." Paks moved the sword around, feeling its balance. It felt subtly different from the one in the Duke's Company. Lighter, she finally decided.

As she had expected, the Marshal was not nearly as inexperienced as he'd claimed. They tested each other's ability and strokes, without either making a touch, for a few minutes. Then the Marshal gestured a pause.

"Yes, indeed," he said. "I see you have much to teach us. Now, Ambros, you stand with her, and Mattis, you take my right."