“But he has no sponsor, no one to provide for him. He can’t—”

“Damne, Sir Roye, do not argue with me!” As he spoke, Lord Odfrey grimaced in agony and fell back against his pillows again, gasping for breath.  “Now this is enough,” Sulein said, pulling the coverlet up across the invalid and placing his hand firmly on the chevard’s sweating brow. “You will bring back your fever if you do not rest. Sir Roye, why do you argue with your master’s orders? Why do you risk his life by making him so upset?” Sir Roye looked stricken. He bowed low. “Your pardon, m’lord. I did not mean to—” “You always have the best interests of the hold at heart,” Lord Odfrey said in a thin, tired voice. He tried to smile, but that caused him more pain. “I know this. Thod brought him to me. Let him stay, if he will.” Sir Roye nodded, but he glanced at Dain without acceptance. “Boy, do you have any idea of what training means?”

“Yes,” Dain said, his eagerness spilling forth. “To learn arms and—” “Will you stay, unsponsored, and take the training freehold?”

Dain frowned slightly, unsure of what these terms meant exactly. “If it means I

can eat food and not be beaten and learn—”

“If I may speak,” Sir Bosquecel said.

Sir Roye turned on him fiercely. “You may not!”

“Sir Roye,” Lord Odfrey said in rebuke.

The protector’s mouth snapped shut. He glared at the captain, who met his gaze without flinching.

“Speak,” Lord Odfrey said wearily.

“If it please you, my lord, I will sponsor the boy.”

Sir Roye snorted. “Are you adopting him, Bosquecel?” “The men will see that he has what he needs in equipment and all else,” Sir Bosquecel said.

Dain stared, unable to believe his ears.

Sir Bosquecel smiled at Lord Odfrey. “We would have him as our mascot, my lord.” Sir Roye looked at the captain as though he were a fool, but Lord Odfrey smiled back. “These details will be worked out later,” he said, and thrust away the cup Sulein was trying to press to his lips. “No, I do not want that abomination!” he said fiercely. “I want breakfast.”

Sulein closed in on him again, and Sir Roye came around the bed to gesture at Dain, who followed him over to the captain of the guard.  “You heard the chevard,” Sir Roye said gruffly. He shoved Dain at Sir Bosquecel.

“He’s yours, man. Get him started.”

“Yes, sir.”

The captain saluted and wheeled around smartly. Dain followed at his heels, but Sir Roye gripped his arm to delay him a moment.

“Heed this,” he said in Dain’s ear. “The chevard has given you the chance of a lifetime, far more than the likes of you deserves. Don’t you let him down, or it’s me you’ll answer to.”

Dain met his fierce eyes, and knew the threat was no idle one. “I understand,” he said quietly with equal determination, and hurried out.