“Captain,” Dorrin said to Selfer. “Collect the weapons, stow them. Sir Valthan, attend me.” She rode forward a few steps; Selfer and ten of the Phelani approached the little troop cautiously, but the Verrakai militia offered no resistance as their bows and sword belts were collected. “Dismount,” Dorrin said to the Verrakai militia, “and stand before me.”

They did so, clearly afraid; two of the Phelani took the horses’ reins and tied them together. Dorrin and Sir Valthan dismounted then.

“Sir Valthan will witness your oath of fealty,” she said. “He is a Knight of Gird, a Knight of the Bells, a noble of Tsaia and known to the prince himself. I am a Knight of Falk as well as your Duke.” She touched the ruby of her order. “Understand that these oaths are binding, and that the gods themselves will know and punish disloyalty.”

The leader nodded; the others, whey-faced, stared like cattle.

“Here is the oath you will pledge,” Dorrin said. “I—and then your name, all of it—do pledge fealty to Sir Dorrin, Duke of Verrakai, to protect, preserve, and obey, by day and night, in fear, famine, fire, and frost, to the end of my blood and life. To this I pledge my honor.”

“That’s not the same—” Sim began, from the back row; one of his comrades shoved him.

“Haron was a traitor, and he’s dead,” Dorrin said. “His oaths were false. Swear or not; it is your choice.”

“I will,” said the leader. He knelt in the mud before her and said the words in a steady voice, looking her in the eye.

“Rise, then, Mikel Vadrison. I accept your oath.”

One after another they knelt and pledged, even Sim, who stammered his way through with prompting from Mikel and others.

“Now, Sir Valthan, as you have witnessed their oaths to me, I ask you to witness mine to them.” He looked surprised, but nodded. “I pledge to you the protection of my name and my honor, so long as you are loyal—” She named them all, one by one. “You will not hunger, while I have food. You will not freeze, while I have fire. No evil will haunt your homes, while this blade has an edge and I have strength to wield it.” She drew the blade, and it flashed in sudden sunlight. Their eyes widened; surprise, fear, and hope mingled in their expressions.

Dorrin grinned at them. “Now, because you did not know I was your Duke, your earlier rudeness is forgiven you—but so you do not forget, you will march today without your arms. Captain, take charge of these men, and ensure that, as they are unable to defend themselves, they are not put at risk.”

The troop moved on, the Verrakai in the midst of the Phelani. That night they camped in the cold damp, but the Royal Guard had tents for their own comfort. “You can have mine,” Sir Valthan said, “if you have none of your own.”

“No,” Dorrin said. “I made a pledge to those fellows in blue; they need to know I keep promises. I will share their conditions, though not their food.” She sat at the same fire with them and her cohort of Phelani, sword across her knees, and slept well enough. It was no different from campaigning with Kieri.