“That’s part of the problem, Sir King. Most of this realm is Girdish, so adults are already enrolled in granges and bartons, where they train as foot soldiers using basic weapons. Your lords are supposed to train them as well, in units related to the size of their domains, but that means more time taken from whatever work their people do. It’s very easy to think—especially for those who have never seen war—that their people get enough training through the Fellowship. But Girdsmen in the grange system are under command of Marshals, not their feudal lords, and they have little time to train in groups—five or six granges together—with the weapons they’d be using against well-armed foreign troops.”

“What do you recommend?”

“A major change in how your defenses are organized, based on Girdish-trained troops—it will require integrating grange and feudal training, with the possibility that yeomen would be commanded in the field by their lords, not by Marshals. I’m not sure how it would work, but an agreement with the granges would give you access to many more troops—and better-trained troops—than you presently have.”

“Would you have to convince every Marshal?”

“Not if I can convince the Marshal-General. She’s not Tsaian, of course, and she’s not sworn fealty to you, but she might work with you on this. You’re Girdish, after all. Your family has long supported the Fellowship here.”

Duke Marrakai stopped Dorrin on her way out of the palace that same day. He looked perfectly healthy now, as if he’d never had an injury. “I’m wondering whether you’ve considered taking squires,” he said. “I know other peers are planning to propose their sons to you, but I exercised a little persuasion so I could be the first to ask. I have a situation, you see.”

“A situation?”

“Well, perhaps you noticed that although there are girls in training to become Knights of the Bells, you never see them as anyone’s squire. There’s a feeling that girls of that age should be home with their families. They can train with the local grange, or even here for knighthood, but they’re just not chosen as squires. They need a woman’s guidance, is one thing people say. The girls don’t much like it, but there you are. Now, you’ve commanded women in battle; you know all the things that young women get into, I daresay. And I have a daughter—”

“You’d trust your daughter to me?” Dorrin said, shocked into saying exactly what she thought.

His brows went up. “Is there any reason I shouldn’t? You saved my life and the king’s. My daughter is precious to me, of course.”

“I—I’m honored,” Dorrin said. “But you know a squire’s tasks are both onerous and sometimes dangerous—”

“She’s gone up the ranks in our local grange,” Marrakai said. “She’d be yeoman-marshal if I’d agreed to it, but she has family responsibilities. She’s too young to enter the Bells, and she’s too old to stay home without a lot of … um … drama. A dose of reality from someone else is what she needs right now. She’s not as volatile as Aris was when we sent him to Fin Panir—she’s between him and Juris in age. But I will not press, if you object—”