Back inside with Valthan, Dorrin told him what she expected. “They would have had word their attack on Phelan failed—quicker here than in Vérella. I am sure the Duke and his brother had plans for that contingency, known to those at Verrakai House. They would have followed those plans and awaited word from the Duke.”

“And no word would have come—”

“We cannot know that,” Dorrin said. “Haron could have assigned messengers not known to be his agents—ordinary merchants, they might seem, innocent travelers—who’d carry word from Vérella of his success or failure there.”

“And you’re sure failure would not lead them to capitulate?”

“Cooperate with an Order of Attainder? No. For one thing, at least some of them must be guilty, and thus would face certain execution. They’ve all practiced magery and as you reminded me, the practice of magery was outlawed. They will not want to give that up any more than a man with two legs will volunteer to hobble on one.”

“So we may expect violent resistance?”

Dorrin frowned. “I do not know how violent … but some combination of magery—which may be quiet and cunning rather than open violence—and force. Some of the servants, at least, will be Liartians by belief, not out of fear alone. We should be provisioned so that we need eat no food prepared there until I’m sure of the kitchen staff for instance.”

“I still wonder—how can we know you will be able to hold off their magery? What if Liart strengthens theirs against you? Or—or invades you?”

“Do you, as a Girdsman, think Liart is stronger than Gird and the High Lord?”

“No, but …” His voice trailed away; he looked around the common room. “With all due respect … who in this kingdom knows what your powers really are, or whence they come?”

Dorrin wished Paks would walk in the door—the sudden appearance of a paladin of Gird being likelier than that of the Knight-Commander, and undoubtedly more to Valthan’s taste—but when the door opened, it was for someone who looked like a mason, down to the mortar splashes on his clogs. “What proof would convince you?” she asked.

“I—I don’t suppose you could show—something—somehow?”

“Violate the Code to satisfy you?”

He flushed. “I didn’t mean—”

“I know,” Dorrin said. “But it’s what you’re asking. The only reason the prince granted me permission to use magery is to ward off that of my relatives.” Then she had a thought. “What if we talk to Marshal Berris, and if he agrees, I will show you a little in the grange, where you can witness whether or not Gird approves? Will that do?”

He nodded. “Yes, indeed.”

“Then, we’ll do that. My plan is this: Since you will have to transport those under attainder to Vérella, I will bind their magery for your protection. Unless a priest of Liart intervenes, they should be unable to break those bindings themselves. Therefore I recommend you lodge them in a Girdish grange each night, and have the Marshal help watch over them.”