An organization so powerful and secretive naturally accumulated detractors. Those claimed that the true nature and goals of the brotherhood were known only to the old generals in the Citadel.

There was truth in the allegation, but not enough to make the order an object of terror or reprisal.

Bragi, Haaken and Reskird did not care how others saw the Guild. They had bought the message of pride sold them from the moment they had entered High Crags gate.

In six days they would belong.

Where do you think well be posted? Reskird asked.

They had been sent to barracks immediately following supper. Their companions were abuzz, speculating about the unprecedented event. They used the time to catch up on their brass and boot polishing. Sergeant Sanguinet was obsessed with shininess.

All I want is out of this dump, Haaken grumbled. Penny to a pound, this is what Hell is like.

Think well get lucky? Reskird persisted. He smoothed straight, fine ginger hair that refused to stay in place. One of the famous outfits? Were doing good.

Kildragon did not look Trolledyngjan. He was tall but on the lean side, with delicate features and feminine hands. He seemed more typically Itaskian.

Hawkwind? Lauder? The White Company? he babbled.

Bragi shrugged. Wickhards got a chance at the White. If we can get him through. Its spooky, the way he can use a bow.

Its the regiments for us, Haaken grumbled. Lauder and Hawkwind dont take Greens.

Id guess the regiment in Simballawein, Bragi said. Thats where the war scare is.

Farther south, Haaken complained. And its still summer.

Me, said Reskird, I think we ought to kiss Sanguinets ass so hell recommend us for Octylya. Sardygo, the Prince of Octylya, maintained a Guild bodyguard consisting entirely of Trolledyngjans.

A demonic creature looking nine feet tall and seven wide lumbered into the barracks room. Kiss it all you want, boy. Im still getting rid of you before you get your shield.

Ragnarson squawked a startled, Ten-shut!

Failing that, Kildragon, Ill get you the honeybucket concession for the whole damned castle.

Reskird did not cringe. This was what passed for light banter with the sergeant.

Sanguinet stalked round the cramped little room occupied by Bragis squad. He poked fingers into cracks. He thumped hammocks. He hunted mercilessly, and could find nothing to bitch about.

Ragnarson!

Sir?

You making fun of me, boy?

Sir? I dont understand, sir.

Youre playing some kind of game. Its too perfect. Your squad is always too perfect. He grinned wickedly. So maybe Ill change the rules.

Corporal Trubacik stuck his head in the doorway. Sarge? The Old Man wants you. Said make it yesterday.

What is it now?

Another messenger came in. Looks set. Hes expecting word from the Citadel.

Damn it all to Hell! The rumor was right. And us stuck with Greens. The demon stalked out in the wake of his apprentice.

What was that all about? Bragi wondered. Haaken and Reskird shrugged.