“Long ago in human time,” the elf said, “when first the Seafolk came up the river in their pointed ships, they would have settled on this side. We did not permit it, for we had seen how they dealt with the trees, as if trees existed only to make more ships. They were easily frightened, and kept to the north side of the river after that.”

“How did you frighten them?” Kieri asked.

The other elf looked down his nose for a moment. “The taig, Sir King, has many powers of which you are as yet unaware, but as I am to be your tutor in such things—” Kieri stared; he had not expected that. “—I will show you when it is time. That is many lessons hence.”

“Does that mean elves will defend the land against the Pargunese, if they attack?” Kieri asked.

“We defend the Ladysforest,” Amrothlin said. “Since the Compact, that is all we are bound to do. It is up to the king to protect the people. Though, as you know, we may choose to aid the king.”

“Let us hope the Pargunese do not know that,” Kieri said.

CHAPTER NINE

In the days before the mourning ceremony, Kieri’s daily schedule acquired some stability. Waking at dawn or before, a session in the salle with his Squires and Armsmaster Carlion, breakfast, a meeting with the Council, and then a longer session with one Council member after another. In the afternoon he visited his cohort and took exercise, then met again with his advisers. His elven relatives insisted they needed at least two hours a day for his schooling in matters elven, but the first session with Orlith consisted of sitting in silence as he tried—with little success he was sure—to open himself fully to the taig.

On the day before the mourning ceremony, Sier Belvarin came to instruct him in the rites, bringing with him two other Siers and the Seneschal.

“The ceremony’s … different … than it is in Tsaia,” Belvarin said.

Kieri waited out the glances, the shifting of hands on the table.

“You see,” one of them said, with a quick glance at the others, “we bury them.”

“Yes …” That didn’t sound different.

“It’s—you do know the Lady of Peace?”

“Of course,” Kieri said. Did they think because he had been a soldier he would not know of Alyanya?

“It’s the land.” Another long pause, another set of looks exchanged. “Well, we’re old in the land here, you see. Before the magelords came, there were people here. Humans. In Tsaia, too, but the magelords conquered them. Here, we have the old ways.”

The old ways. Kieri had read, with some scorn, the Girdish beliefs about their origins before the magelords came. All peaceful farmers and herders, but they had shed blood to thank Alyanya for the gift of fertility … was that what this was about?

“You blood the blade before setting iron to the soil?”