Almost at once, one of the serving wenches brought in her breakfast platter. She was spooning honey onto the hot bread when Sir Valthan came in, yawning.

“Do you ever sleep?”

“I confess to waking unusually early—it should prove an interesting day.”

“I hope not too interesting,” he said. “My men tell me the town’s not unhappy to see a new duke in Verrakai.”

“Undoubtedly,” Dorrin said, through a mouthful of honey and bread. “Haron was as bad a lord as a land could have. I’ve no doubt he threatened merchants and traders here and on the roads near and through his territory. We know that granges on the south road were attacked—people missing or found dead after torture.”

Dorrin returned to her breakfast; his arrived and he set to. When she finished, she pushed back her chair. “I’m going for a last word with Marshal Berris; if I’m not back when you’re ready to leave, it’s on the way out of town.”

“You’re sounding like a duke already,” he said.

“I should,” Dorrin said, grinning. “Since I am one now.” She left through the side door; Selfer was talking to Vossik as the last supplies were loaded on the wagons. She caught his eye and he came over.

“Yes, my lord?”

“My pack upstairs, and armor?”

“Already loaded, my lord. The rest of your armor is slung on your saddle.” He nodded to her mount, now wearing its newly decorated tack.

“I’m going to the grange, to speak to the Marshal. I’d as soon walk, and stretch my legs; we’ve a long ride. When Sir Valthan’s got his troop ready to go, swing by there and pick me up.”

“Yes, my lord.” Selfer cocked his head. “Pardon, my lord, but perhaps an escort?”

“You think I need one here?” Dorrin asked. She laid a hand on the hilt of her sword.

“I think it is due a duke’s dignity,” Selfer said. “Two or three—”

“Two.” She waited to see which ones he’d select. He beckoned and two—the two she would have chosen—came up. “You’re the Duke’s escort through town,” he said. Then Selfer sketched a salute; Dorrin nodded and walked out the inn gate followed by her escort. Her first real appearance as Duke Verrakai … the first time she had considered herself a Verrakai since she left home. How would the townspeople react?

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Halfway to the grange, she was chuckling at herself. Early morning, still nearly dark, cold, dank—hardly anyone was out and those who were hurried along, heads bowed, paying no attention to her. So much for the blue cloak, the fancy ducal chain. She strode on, noticing as she passed that the Royal Guard sergeant was only now chivvying his men to tack up the horses.

But at that end of town, things were busier. A woman carrying a washing basket stopped, gaped, and dropped a curtsy. A man leading seven cows along a side lane stopped and tried to hold back the lead cow. A group of Girdish youths, straggling along the way to the grange, all turned to look; two of them pointed.