“So—shall we go a round?” Kieri asked Garris.

“Lieth will stand guard,” Garris said. “One of us always does, when the king practices.” She took up a position in the doorway, sword drawn, while Garris took one of the wooden swords and faced Kieri.

They had scarcely exchanged five blows of a standard training sequence when a clatter of boots and an angry voice brought them to a hold.

“Who do you think you are, coming to the salle without an armsmaster present! It’s not your time to spar, Squires! You’ll wake the king with this racket!”

“No,” Kieri said, coming to the door. “They will not wake the king, for the king was already awake.” He smiled down at the wiry little man who now gaped up at him.

“Sir … King.”

“Yes,” Kieri said. “And you must be an armsmaster.”

“Carlion, my lord king. Senior armsmaster of the Royal Salle. I wasn’t—I didn’t expect—it’s just, Sir King, the young ones come sometimes when they shouldn’t, and there’s been accidents—”

“I’m not angry,” Kieri said. “And I should, in courtesy, have spoken to you first. But I am used to training early in the morning—before affairs of the day take over. I would like to continue that training, under your guidance.”

“My guidance—” Carlion looked sharply at Kieri. “Sir King, you have been a soldier; you are not ignorant of arms, but I do not know what guidance you think I can give.”

“Let us see,” Kieri said. “How would you test anyone who first came into your salle?”

Carlion cocked his head. “Is that waster near the weight you’re used to?”

“Close enough,” Kieri said.

“Then you and Garris spar. Garris’s skills I know. Garris, do you attack, and let the king respond.”

Garris attacked; Kieri fended him off easily, making only parries to see what Carlion would say.

“Sir King, you are slacking and that is a bad habit. Make your attacks as you would—”

Kieri did, and quickly penetrated Garris’s guard, once, twice, three times.

“Hold,” Carlion said. “I see I must test you myself; you are beyond Garris.”

“He always was,” Garris said. “We were squires together at Aliam Halveric’s.”

“Ah,” Carlion said. “And he has fought often, and you have not.”

Carlion, Kieri found, was no easy opponent. Wiry and fast, his shorter stature made low attacks easy for him, but he had the ability to strike high as well. Kieri was soon drenched in sweat, despite the morning chill, as was Carlion. They paused for breath again, and Carlion nodded. “You, Sir King, are ready—and more, I would think—to practice in the middle range. I warn you, some stones there will tip. At the far end, in the roughs—well, come see, while you catch your breath.”

Great blocks of stone, loose rocks here and there—Kieri wanted to try it then and there, but enough light showed in the windows to make it clear he must get to breakfast and the meeting he had called.