Kings of the North - Elizabeth Moon [113]
Stammel did indeed look worn out, Arcolin thought. “I can guide him.”
“Certainly,” Dorrin said. “Follow me, then.” She led the way through the house. “This place was full of traps when I first came; it’s safer now, but I’m still using the scullery for a bathing room. I had water put on to heat this afternoon, anticipating your arrival.” As they passed through the kitchen, she said, “Jaim, go find their packs in the stable and bring them in, then run to the grange and ask Marshal Tamis to come. Efla, we’ll need a supper for the sergeant.”
“A Marshal?” Arcolin said.
Beclan came in the back door before Dorrin could answer; he had their packs and quickly took down a bath basin from the wall rack.
“Warm water,” Dorrin said to Beclan, then turned to Arcolin. “A precaution merely,” she said. “This house was steeped in Verrakai evil for generations; the Marshals and I have cleansed it, but in Stammel’s present condition, if there is any lingering evil, it might try to invade again. I want the Marshal’s advice; it might be better for him to stay at the grange.”
“I’d rather stay here,” Stammel said. “With the captain and you.”
“I understand,” Dorrin said. “And if the Marshal thinks it’s safe, you’ll be welcome. At least, you will bathe and eat here, and I will have a room prepared.”
By the time Stammel and Arcolin had bathed and dressed in clean uniforms, Marshal Tamis had arrived. Dorrin told the story with additions from Stammel and Arcolin. Tamis nodded at the end.
“I think he will be safe here, my lord Duke, though I would not put him in a room alone. Let one of your servants or squires stay with him, if you and the captain need to be elsewhere. As for his sight, I cannot answer whether anything can be done. If the Marshal-General were in Vérella, we could ask her, but she’s gone back to Fin Panir.”
“It’s early,” Dorrin said, “but I think you should rest, Stammel, if you can.”
“I agree,” Tamis said. “He’s the only one who’s survived an invasion, isn’t he?”
“One small boy,” Dorrin said. “I was able to intervene before the transfer was complete. But holding down, controlling an invader for so long …”
Stammel yawned. “Sorry, my lord, Marshal.”
“Let’s get you to bed, then. I need to talk to Jandelir, Stammel, but I’ll have someone in the room with you, if you need anything.”
Arcolin watched as Stammel lay down, falling into what looked like normal sleep within a few breaths.
“Extraordinary,” Marshal Tamis said. He turned to Arcolin. “And congratulations to you—I understand you’re to be confirmed as lord of the north to replace Kieri Phelan.”
“Yes,” Arcolin said.
“I hope you’ll visit my grange—with your sergeant—while you’re still in the city. Both of you have stories to tell that would do my yeomen good to hear. Not before the ceremony, of course, but after.”
“We’ll come,” Arcolin said. “But I don’t know when—”
“Any time—give me a day’s warning if you can.” With a bow to Dorrin, he left.
“Come upstairs, Jandelir,” Dorrin said. “The old duke’s study’s safe enough now.” She led the way, and he followed up the broad stairs into a large room furnished with a few simple chairs and a plain table half-covered with neat stacks of scrolls and books. It didn’t look the way he’d imagined an old family’s study. “It was more impressive when I first saw it,” Dorrin said. “But everything was full of traps. Here—have a seat. These chairs may be plain, but they’re safe.”
Arcolin stared at her. A thousand questions raced through his mind, along with a rush of fear; even when she seemed the old Dorrin, she wasn’t. He cleared his throat and said the first ordinary thing that came to mind.
“I don’t know anything about court ceremony. All I had to do was take and receive messages.”
“You’re still ahead of where I was,” Dorrin said, chuckling. She had taken a