Dorrin laughed. “I cannot see her as a wife, no.”

“Nor I. She asked that a sword be sent to her family if she died in Vérella. One will be, for her family deserves to know what she did, but we’re trying to gather the stories of her, as we do for all paladins.”

“Will you tell the bad things?”

“We must.” The Marshal-General looked away. “That is why the stories of paladins are not quickly told, or lightly. I want her to come back to Fin Panir with me and share the tale of her deeds, all of them.”

“The Lady of the Ladysforest, who brought her people to us in our greatest need,” Dorrin said, “offered to rid her of her memories of the worst. She refused. But she does not talk about it.”

“There is a thief in Vérella. Well, he says he’s not a thief—”

“Paks mentioned a thief helping her after—”

“When I sent word that I wanted more of her story, he came to one of the granges and asked to speak to the Marshal. His version has been written down, but it did not prepare me for that circle on her brow.”

“I will miss her when you take her away,” Dorrin said, “but I know she must follow the gods’ call. I do wish I had her touch with children. I have no idea how to be a proper aunt, let alone parent. I brought that tutor from Vérella, as you know, but—what now?”

“You were a child; you must remember—”

“Nothing good,” Dorrin said. “I told you. I do not know how it is possible to have a childhood free of fear and evil. That’s what I want for them, but if there is more …” She shook her head.

“I find it amusing—no, ridiculous—that I, leading a Fellowship which did its best to rid the world of nobles like you and households like this—should be asked for advice by one. And yet, before I was the Marshal-General, I managed a grange, and then a group of granges, as High Marshal. Though I never wanted children of my own, I loved the children of my grange.”

Dorrin glanced at her and saw an expression she associated more with mothers than warriors. “So—do you have advice?”

“Think far ahead, Dorrin. What do you want for them when they’re grown? Surround them with people who are that—the kind of adults you want them to be. Children are such mimics … if they see honesty and fair dealing and kindness, they will copy that.”

“Paks has been here four or five tendays—”

“And you saw how they were when you arrived. Was that a big change?”

“Yes,” Dorrin said, thinking back. “They were improving, I think, before that, but not this exuberant.”

“Do they have chores, or do the servants do all for them? Peasants, you know, teach their children to work.”

“I don’t think they do,” Dorrin said. “I would have to ask the nursemaids.”