“Thank you,” he said. “That’s a weight off my shoulders. I suppose we need a ceremony.”

“Of course,” Garris said. “Pledging an oath to the king—that’s when we get the gold bands. I’ll organize that, when I find out how long it will take the tailors to make up the uniforms.”

Kieri took the list of names off to the office he’d now established, and stared at it, reminding himself which faces went with which names. He was amused to find that he remembered the women’s faces best; everyone’s hints about marriage and heirs must be affecting him. But these women were too young, like Paksenarrion, like the young women trailed past him at his coronation. As Tammarion would be, if she came to him now as he had known her first. He tried to imagine Tamar as she might be now if she had lived: there would have been silver in that golden hair, though in memory she was always young.

That thought hardened his resolve to find someone older to marry; it was not fair for someone like him—his age, his experience—to marry a woman scarcely out of girlhood. In the ceremony a hand of days later, he was pleased to find that he remembered all the names and faces, male and female, and that he could look on his Squires as he had once looked on first-year soldiers.

Shortly after that, Paks bade him farewell and rode away, this time eastward. He knew better than to ask why—she would not know, herself, until she reached whatever goal the gods had given her. His new Squires, mixed with the experienced few, began their new duties. He sent couriers to Tsaia—one to Verrakai lands to find out how Dorrin was faring, one to Vérella, with messages both for the prince and to send on south to Arcolin, and one to his former stronghold.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Aliam’s response, when it arrived some hands of days later, was the first contingent of troops, a half-cohort with Talgan, one of his junior captains, at its head. The palace steward brought Kieri Aliam’s letter and Talgan’s word that they planned to camp in the river meadow near the palace.

Kieri unfolded the stiff parchment. Aliam’s handwriting, he noted, had not improved with a year off fighting.

My Lord King:

Greetings and prayers for your good health. Your request was far too flattering to us but comes timely, as you know. Caliam is needed here, and the boys are all too young to command, but the captains I send are known to you and competent. If it pleases you to tell Talgan what you want done, he will send word for the rest. I have two hundred I would be grateful if you could find employment for, and another hundred could be spared.

Something about Aliam’s tone bothered Kieri, but he couldn’t quite understand it. Of course Aliam and Cal would stay at Halveric Steading—no need for them yet, at least. He headed for the kitchens, where he found the steward talking to the cooks.