“But—”
“Is there a problem, m’lord?” Sir Polquin asked, hurrying up behind Dain. “No,” Lord Odfrey replied, absently pulling a hank of his horse’s mane over to the other side of its neck. “This is a contest to determine my new squire. Dain needs at least another year of training before he can expect such an appointment. He has no place in this contest.”
“I’ve worked hard,” Dain said, choked with disappointment. His head was spinning. He couldn’t believe that Lord Odfrey was making him withdraw. “I can do it—” “Sir Polquin,” Lord Odfrey said.
The edge in his voice was plain to hear. Sir Polquin put his hand on Dain’s shoulder. “You heard his lordship, Dain boy. Off you go.”