Arcolin went back downstairs, watching Paks chatting with the boy—listening, rather, as he shed his shyness and began telling her everything about his life as fast as he could. Her horse stood quietly in the courtyard, bare now of saddle or bridle, with a worried groom standing nearby.

“He won’t move, milady,” the groom said.

“He’s waiting to give this lad a ride,” Paks said. Jamis, looking up at the tall horse, clutched her hand harder.

“No saddle?” he said. He sounded worried. Though he rode his pony more confidently now, he had never ridden bareback.

“You don’t need one,” Paks said. She scooped him up and deposited him on the horse’s back. “Sit up straight now, like your father. And you don’t need reins, because the horse knows where you need to go.” She nodded to the horse. It took one careful step and paused. Jamis looked scared, but stayed upright. Another. Another. Jamis’s mouth relaxed, Arcolin saw, and the horse gradually lengthened its stride, circling the forecourt.

“It’s—it’s fun!” Jamis said, turning to look at Arcolin. “Even on a big horse.”

“A very special horse,” Arcolin said.

“And now my horse wants his dinner,” Paks said, as the horse came to her and stopped. “Sorry, Jamis, but you must come down. Another ride later, maybe.”

Arcolin took the boy into his arms and set him on his feet. “Back to your books, lad; your mother’s waiting.”

The rest of that day, Arcolin was aware of Paks moving about the stronghold. Most of her comrades were in the South; few up here had been Stammel’s recruits, and most had not known him, or only briefly. He wondered if that was worse for her. He wished he had old comrades with whom to reminisce about Stammel.

She came in to supper with Captain Arneson; the two of them seemed already friends, chatting easily about the recruits’ progress. During supper, Arcolin asked her when she had last been in Fin Panir.

“I came from there, on my way to Lyonya; the Marshal-General gave me messages for both the kings. I had just delivered the first to King Mikeli when I felt a call to come here. I cannot stay long; I must get to Chaya soon after King Kieri’s children are born, and quickly.”

“Is there trouble?”

“Not to concern you or this domain, my lord,” Paks said. She shook her head then. “But who knows what may flow from any occasion? You know about the reappearance of magery in both Tsaia and Fintha?”

“I heard, on my way through Vérella. Is it all the same, or is some blood magery?” Arcolin asked. “Or a gift of some god, as you paladins have?”