Dorrin chuckled. “You’re learning, Selfer, indeed you are. Take care of it, then. Don’t forget to eat your own meals.”

She went on into the inn, where the smell of frying ham permeated the common room. A few locals huddled at one table over mugs of steaming sib. By their clothes, they were workmen of some sort, young and probably still unmarried. Through the door to the kitchen, she saw a file of her cohort, moving slowly past two serving women who piled ham on half loaves of bread and handed each a bowl of porridge, and then out the kitchen door toward the barn.

Dorrin caught the landlord’s eye and he jerked his head at a table to one side, closer to the fireplace than the windows. She took the small table, and in a few moments he appeared with a wooden platter of ham and eggs and a pottery bowl of hot porridge. He went back and fetched a pitcher of cream and small pot of honey as well as a small loaf of hot bread.

She was halfway through breakfast when Sir Valthan came down the stairs, yawning. He blinked when he saw her. “You’re up early.”

“Not really,” Dorrin said. “Just habit.”

“I hate mornings,” he said. “May I?” She nodded, and he pulled out a chair and sat down. “My da believed in early rising and used to yank the covers off and slap my feet with a wet towel.” He rubbed his eyes. “I can stay up all night easier than I can get up before daylight—broad daylight.”

“Breakfast will help,” Dorrin said. She pushed the remainder of her bread across the table, and stood. “I’m full—get started. I’ll tell them to bring you the rest.”

“Thank you,” he said.

Dorrin went into the kitchen; the last of her cohort had a tray of mugs and a big pot of sib. She told the kitchen staff about Valthan and followed her cohort out. They had the barn’s big doors open and enough light came in to let them eat, sprawled on the earthen floor. They started to rise, but she waved them back down.

“I’ll let you know what I find out later today,” she said. “Selfer’s looking for a good drill field; the grange here—which isn’t Harway Grange, but Thornhedge—may let us use their drill field, or a Field of Falk may have some space. Some of you will be given errands in town; the rest stay close, don’t wander about.”

“Think there’d be trouble, Captain?” one of the younger soldiers asked.

“No more than we ever have in towns, but some of you have just made it into the Company. Listen to your sergeants: If you get drunk, gamble, or swive, you can be punished by locals and I can’t interfere.”

“I thought—”

Kefer shook his head. “Don’t argue, Selis.” He grinned at Dorrin. “He’ll learn soon enough, Captain. Selfer said you had assignments.”

“I won’t know until after I talk to the Marshal whether we’re marching tomorrow. Selfer’s probably already set it up, but be sure the farrier checks all the shoes, not just the ones we know are loose.”