She bundled the rest of her clothes, all the familiar maroon of Phelan’s Company, into a pack, snatched up the Marshal’s long blue cloak, and was downstairs before the first light grayed the sky. The innkeeper’s watch lamp gave only dim light in the common room, but a streak of light from the half-open kitchen door lay across the floor. She heard the rasping scrape of a broom there, the crack of sticks broken for kindling, and low voices.

When she pushed the door wider, a sleepy cook setting out bowls on a work table glared at her, and a boy paused in his sweeping.

“No breakfast yet! The fire’s not even up.”

Dorrin smiled. “I woke early and did not want to go out the main door, lest someone think I was off without paying.”

The cook’s face relaxed. “Ah … you think Bal’s even awake at this hour? Nay—’tis the smell of breakfast cooking that wakes him. If you’re going to the jacks, best take a lantern—it’s blacker than pit out there, and wet; the cobbles might’ve been greased.”

Dorrin walked outside, into a chill drizzle; the drops sparkled in the light of her lantern. Across the yard, she could see a gleam of light; it vanished and returned, vanished and returned. Her sentries, she hoped. At the jacks, she met Selfer coming out.

“My lord Duke,” he said, formally, with a bow. “A wet day for travel, but at least not snowing.”

“Good morning, Captain,” Dorrin said. “I think the weather will shift by midmorning if not before—the wind’s already changed.”

“The kitchen’s awake?”

“Yes, but a half-glass or more from breakfast; they had just woken the main fire when I came through.”

“I’ll tell the sergeants.” He moved off, into the dark yard that now felt, to Dorrin, a little warmer than even a few minutes before.

By the time the cooks had a hot breakfast ready, Selfer had roused the cohort. “And we woke the Royal Guard’s night watch, who were wrathy with us, until we pointed out this gave them an equal chance at breakfast.”

Dorrin laughed. “It’s just as it was in Vérella, leaving with Phelan … remember how we were packed and ready hours before they were?”

“But they’re brave,” Selfer said, more to himself than her.

“Oh, yes, they’re brave, and skilled at their style of warfare,” Dorrin said. “What they’re not, is used to constant travel. Not their fault; they’re not often used for this duty.” She could hear her soldiers in the kitchen now, and yet Selfer was with her. She cocked her head. “So you’re letting Kefer and Vossik run the cohort?”

“Only to check on you, my lord Duke, and to see if you have additional orders.”

“No, Captain; no new orders. We march when ready; you’ve seen what charts I have, and you know as much of the potential defenses as I do.”

“Very well, then.” He bowed and left her in the common room, now lit with several lamps.