Not ever to return. Arcolin forced himself to take a deep breath and consider what records he might need, for either a contract or … that which he did not want to consider.

Tired as he was, he sat up late, making notes, packing away those records he would not take in the chest where they belonged, packing the ones he would need into waterproof bags. The room seemed emptier than it should, emptier than it ever had.

“I’m trying,” he muttered to himself, then shook his head and went to bed.

Arcolin woke to the memory of yesterday’s surprises, and the realization that he needed to parade the whole Company. They had given their oaths to Kieri, who had now left them. They must now give their oaths to him. That ceremony could not be omitted.

Outside, the previous evening’s storm continued, alternating brief snow flurries with rattling sleet and icy rain. Perhaps it would stop by noon; Arcolin went down to breakfast and found Valichi staring thoughtfully at the weapons on the dining room wall.

A kitchen servant arrived with steaming bowls of porridge and loaves of hot bread. Valichi sat down and started eating. Arcolin poured a little honey, thick with cold, into his porridge and tried a spoonful as Cracolnya came in from outside.

“Nasty,” Cracolnya said.

“Think it will clear away at all today?” Arcolin asked. “I need to parade the Company and take their oaths.”

The two captains stared at him, then at each other. “I had forgotten,” Cracolnya said. “If he’s not coming back—if he’s the one to break it—then we all—” His voice trailed away.

“We all swore to him, personally,” Arcolin said. “He’s not our duke anymore, so whether the Crown confirms me or not, for the time being we need a single oath to bind us. And—” He shrugged. “That’s to me.” As he said it, he realized he would also have to travel to the villages again, taking their charters, getting the oaths of mayors and councils, making a copy for the Crown. That would take an entire day.

“I understand.” Cracolnya dug into his porridge, eating fast for five or six mouthfuls. “I’ll do it, of course. It’s what he’d want.” He paused for a moment, then shook his head. “No, my pardon. It’s what I want.”

“Val?” Arcolin asked.

“Yess …” Valichi’s answer came slower; he was frowning. He was older than Arcolin, and had spent more time in the North, as Kieri’s recruit captain. Perhaps he had hoped to be chosen, if Kieri ever left. “But I can’t say as I’m willing to stay on as the only captain of a cohort, not longer than it takes to find another.”

“We all need co-captains,” Arcolin said. “I’ll be hiring captains, either in Vérella or Valdaire; I’ll send them north.” He leaned on his elbows. “You two take your cohorts away tomorrow, if the weather mends at all. Cracolnya, you take the other surgeon and smith; Val will be near enough Burningmeed for a Marshal to help with healing and they have a smith. I can’t leave for another day at least: I need to find the village charters and take them to Duke’s East and West, for all to take oaths on and sign. Val, let the merchants travel with you, if they want an escort, or they can go ahead.”