“Not a great deal, except where it borders Verrakai’s land,” Galvary said. “The Duke has not attempted invasion, but people come from there and poach in the forest or raid farms for food. Konhalt, too—”

“Konhalt’s under Verrakai control,” Kieri said. “Not fond of me, either of them, though I think Verrakai will be busy enough explaining to the Council in Vérella why he ordered his people to attack the Tsaian Royal Guard to keep him from causing trouble here.”

“We shall hope so,” Galvary said, in a tone that suggested disbelief. “In Tsaia all you dukes had your own armies, didn’t you?”

“Not exactly,” Kieri said. “We all owed troops to the Crown, in case of need; some maintained them at home, and some contributed money to maintain an equivalent number under Crown control.”

“But you had—”

“I had troops, yes. A condition of my grant of land: as a marcher lord, I had a duty to protect the northern and eastern borders from all enemies—mostly Pargun, but also any invasion of horse nomads from the north. They never bothered us; we had far more trouble with orcs under Achrya’s guidance …”

“And you brought troops with you …” Egil spoke for the first time, sounding nervous.

“Only as an escort,” Kieri said. “If I had not, I’d have died on the way.”

“Ah. Then … they will go back to Tsaia? Or … were you going to keep them here, as your personal troops?” Galvary asked.

“I had not considered that; they will go back, I assume, to join the others, though … it has all been so fast … I do not know what will happen to that land, or those people …”

“Surely Tsaia will let you keep it—”

“I doubt that. And even if they do, how could I govern both there and here? And yet—”

“They are your people,” Galvary said, nodding.

“Yes. As you are my people now, though I do not yet know you.” Kieri smiled at Galvary. “I must make you first in my heart, I know that. But it is—it will be—difficult for a while. For me as well as for them. Some of them I have known for thirty years.”

“Are you sorry?” said Egil.

“Sorry? To find out at last who I am, that I had a loving family, that I belong somewhere? Not at all. I pray that I become such a king as you will not be sorry to have.”

A moment’s silence; Kieri sensed that something had changed between them, but he was not sure what.

“I—I meant having to give up your friends, having to come to a strange place—and not having known all along.” Egil darted a glance at Galvary, who was glaring at him.

Kieri looked at Egil, thinking how young he seemed. “I regret my own mistakes, but to regret the things that made me what I am … that would be ungrateful to those who did so much for me—and to those powers that perhaps knew when it was best for me to come back. Would you quarrel with the gods’ will? I wouldn’t.” He turned back to the map. “Now—what are these lines here?”