Kings of the North - Elizabeth Moon [186]
“Be welcome in our camp, then,” the young woman said. “We return to Verrakai House tomorrow; we can guide you.”
“That suits me well,” Arian said. “I have been in Tsaia before, but only in the south, as far as Brewersbridge twice and once to Thorngrove.”
At the camp, Arian found men and women in Verrakai blue, most older than the squire. The veteran she’d first seen was their sergeant, and five of the troops were veterans of Phelan’s Company. The others were native Verrakaien.
“Fifteen of us stayed behind when the rest of the duke’s cohort went back to the north,” the sergeant said. “We’d all been helping her get the locals trained and organized, so now she’s split us up.” He leaned closer. “It’s partly to give these youngsters command experience, you know. This ’un is a Marrakai daughter; she’ll make a decent captain someday. Still young, o’course. Younger than you.”
Arian forebore to tell him how old she really was. The squire came back from checking on the sentries and sat down near Arian. “My name’s Gwenno Marrakai,” she said. “I expect he’s been telling you what a novice I am.” She said that without any rancor. “I’m lucky to have an experienced sergeant—my lord Duke made sure we each did.”
“I don’t know the correct courtesies,” Arian said. “Your duke’s a woman, but you say ‘my lord’?”
“For her, definitely,” Gwenno said. “She’s been a soldier all her life, and in Phelan’s Company they don’t use different terms.”
“It’s much the same with our forest rangers,” Arian said. “What else should I know?”
“She’s not as formal as some,” Gwenno said. “I think it’s mostly military courtesy with her.” She flushed again. “I like her. I know that’s not supposed to be important, but I do.”
“Forgive my asking, if it’s discourteous, but I always wondered—I know Tsaians are mostly Girdish, and the Girdish train men and women together in their granges. But I never saw a woman squire … of course I saw only one noble household, and that briefly.”
“It’s unusual,” Gwenno said. “Many households don’t want the responsibility. My father’s a duke, too, and he was glad when Duke Verrakai was named, because she’s a woman. I had been begging him to find me a place, and he’d kept saying there wasn’t much hope.”
“So … do noble-born girls not learn fighting skills?”
“We do, in the grange, just like our brothers. But beyond the grange we have to beg lessons from our family armsmasters or relatives. Father sent my younger brother Aris off to Fintha to train with the Girdish knights, but he wouldn’t send me there.” She paused. “Is that a Falkian ruby? Are you a Knight, then?”
“Yes, I’m a Knight of Falk,” Arian said.
“And you’re not that much older than me,” Gwenno said. “But at least I’m a squire now … and my lord Duke has said she’ll sponsor me to the Knights of the Bells if I’m satisfactory. They don’t take girls—women—that often, but I’m sure she can convince them.”
Arian looked at the unlined young face and kept her own counsel. Through the evening, she saw evidence that the young woman, despite her age and inexperience, had the respect of her small troop.
The next day they rode off again. Arian was glad to ride in company that could distract her from her own thoughts. She sensed that the taig here was recovering slowly from grievous wounds—evident when they passed small areas of blight that made Arian shudder. What had the old Verrakai done to cause trees to look like that?
When they came out of the woods and Arian saw across a river and its meadows the big stone house and its outbuildings, she felt a difference again—here was health only. One of the soldiers unfurled a pennant of Verrakai blue with a device like a many-pointed star; by the time they rode up to the house, a hand of riders had come to meet them.
In the center, a tall figure wore a chain of office—was that the duke herself? Arian reined back a little so that Gwenno Marrakai reached the other group first. Yes. That had to be the duke, from the courtesies