“I haven’t a horse that will make Harway tonight,” Dorrin said. “And you must not camp alone on the way. I cannot guarantee your safety.”

He looked at the house, where a servant was just visible coming out with a tray and the ritual bowl of water. “I’m supposed to hurry—”

“From the look of you and your horse, you did. But you could not clear Verrakai lands by dark, and surely you know I am still hunting down errant kinsmen. You are a royal servant; you are owed my protection. Go in, rest, be welcome to what I can offer until I return. I must go now. Two legal matters await me, urgent ones that I promised to deal with today. My people will see you fed and rested; I will be back by dark.”

Dorrin rode off, along with a tensquad of Phelani. The cases were complex, a tangle of Tsaian law and traditional practice, some of it Verrakaien and some apparently local, from ancient times. She had discussed them with the village leaders but the people were adamant that only the Duke could settle matters and only in there, in the village.

It might even be an ambush attempt set up by her missing relatives, designed to lure her away from the house. She could not be sure. Nothing had been seen of the missing young men, nothing heard, according to what she’d been told. But she had promised to come and give judgment in the place the dispute had arisen, and her people needed her.

As she approached the village, a clump of villagers awaited her—more than she thought lived there. Dorrin reined in.

“Good afternoon, Lord Duke,” the eldest said.

“Good afternoon, Elder Sennet,” Dorrin said. “You have a case; I have come to hear it. May the High Lord grant me wisdom to see the truth and judge rightly. Falk’s grace on you and all here.”

“The case is …” The elder looked meaningfully at the oldest woman.

“Our lord Duke’s birthday,” the old woman said, grinning broadly and showing how few teeth she had left.

“What?” Dorrin looked from her to Sennet.

“We wanted to thank you, my lord,” Sennet said. “You sent us back our dead, back then, and you taken no more for the dark tower, not from any village we asked, and so we wanted to thank you.”

“And I knew it was your birthday,” the old woman said. “On account I was there when you was born, a-helping in the house, I was, and it was seven tendays and a hand after the Lady’s Evener, which it is this day, my lord. So I told Sennet, that’s the best day to thank the Duke, it’s the Duke’s Lady’s Day, it is.”

“Maerin!”

“Well, it is. ‘Tis no shame to say it.”

They looked frightened now. Dorrin understood: mention of the Lady of Peace, Alyanya, had been forbidden in her childhood and she supposed that had continued. She herself had left the villagers to what beliefs they chose, except that she had sent word to make no more sacrifices to Liart of the Horned Chain.