“So it is, for the young,” Aliam said. “Or maybe I am just lazy. This morning, I will say, it does not hurt as much. King’s grace, perhaps?”

“You were never lazy,” Kieri said. “And the grace your king wants is a good bout—” He opened the storage bin and tossed Aliam a banda and practice sword, and took one for himself.

Aliam’s swordwork was as good as ever, though perhaps a touch slower, and he was quickly tired, but recovered between rounds. He and Kieri traded touch after touch.

“All you need is more practice,” Kieri said, as he finished. “If I were your physician, and not your friend, I would bid you work daily with your armsmaster.”

Aliam shook out his arms. “And as my friend?”

“The same, but with concern for your health. If you stayed here longer—”

Aliam shook his head. “I cannot. Cal is competent, but I need to be home—there is much work to be done. You know how land is, especially with so many feeding from it.”

“That, we hope to change—but I understand.” Kieri looked around the salle. The second four, now fencing in the middle of the salle, were three men and one woman; Carlion paced about them, watchful.

“You will have King’s Squires enough,” Astil said, on the way back to the palace.

“Do you regret deciding to retire?” Kieri asked.

“No. I was glad to come and serve again—and so I always will be at need—but my life now is at the farm with my family.”

“I would like you—all of you current Squires—to help evaluate these applicants,” Kieri said.

“You have said you plan to use Squires more, and differently,” Astil said. “Can you explain, Sir King?”

“I will write it out for you,” Kieri said. “But it includes acting as couriers to carry messages and envoys to foreign courts when haste is needed. Think of the tasks those who came to seek me found necessary—weapons skills, woodscraft, palace manners, diplomacy. I need Squires who are flexible, able to act independently, as well as intelligent and hardy. And I want to include part-elves; we need to bring the peoples closer together.”

After breakfast, Kieri bade farewell to Aliam and Estil, then convened the first Council meeting since the coronation. The Siers looked wary and he wondered if Aliam’s brother had told them his plans. But their concern, it seemed, was different.

“Sir King, with all respect—how far into summer will we need to stay in Chaya?” That was Sier Davonin. “Growth time is here; I have duties at my steading I would carry out, if I am no longer needed. And truly, I believe you need our advice less than when you came.”

“What is your custom?” Kieri asked.

“A few of us stay in Chaya,” Sier Belvarin said. “When the former king was well, three or four, who met perhaps once a tenday. The rest lived on their estates—”

Kieri hoped his expression didn’t change. No wonder the realm had been sliding into disarray if that was all the attention its rulers paid it.