“But—”

“Keep your tongue!” Sir Roye said gruffly. “Now jump to, and do as you’ve been told! I’ve wasted enough time with you.”

Dain sat there on the stool, seething from all the criticism. It was not fair that he should be blamed for first the battle and now this fight with the fosters. Why had Sir Roye bothered to save him if he thought Dain this worthless?

“Boy!” Sir Roye barked. “On your feet like I said. If you feel faint, I’ll pour one of the physician’s potions down your gullet, but get to moving now. Any more dallying will be an open insult to his lordship, and then I’m within my duty to take you to the flogging block for that if naught else.” Dain gritted his teeth and rose to his feet. His eyes, hot with anger, met Sir Roye’s. The protector gave him a stiff nod and walked out.  Walking stiffly out of the bathing chamber with his wounded arm cradled against his side, Dain nearly collided with Thum, who was hurrying along the passageway.  Thum jumped back from him, holding up his hands to ask pardon. “Dain!” he said anxiously. “Are you much hurt? Hueh said you were bleeding—” “Some cuts,” Dain said grimly. “I will live.”

Thum’s freckled face lit up with relief. His red hair lay plastered dark and wet against his head; rain had spotted his doublet. He sported a black eye that was healing in several vivid hues, giving his thin, rather serious face a rakish look. In one hand, he carried Dain’s new wine-colored doublet.  “I’m glad you’re not bad hurt,” he said. “From the way Hueh’s been telling it, I thought you were carried away swooning and bloody in Sir Roye’s arms.” Little Hueh, Dain thought darkly, had been helpful, but the page had better not go embellishing the tale of what had transpired. Dain shook his head at Thum.  “Do you really think Sir Roye would be that tender?” he asked with scorn.  Thum grinned. “Had you waited another few minutes, I would have been there to help you fight the oafs.”

“Be glad you weren’t,” Dain said, reaching for his doublet. “You’re the only one of us not in trouble. Well, you and Prince Gavril.”

“I know.” Thum gripped Dain’s uninjured arm to usher him back inside the bathing chamber. “Here, I will help you get dressed.”

He took the doublet from Dain’s hands and threw it over Dain’s head. With quick but gentle tugs, he pulled it down over Dain’s shoulders. “Tell me if I hurt you.”

Dain was gritting his teeth with pain as he twisted his arm to fit it into a sleeve, but he said nothing. The new doublet was roomy and comfortable, large enough to allow for more growth. Pleased with it, Dain smoothed his hand down the front while Thum belted on his dagger for him.

“You’re in greater trouble than just the fight, you know,” Thum murmured quietly, keeping an eye on the servants, who were still cleaning the chamber and clearly trying to eavesdrop. “Thod’s mercy, Dain, what made you run away like that?”

“Not you as well!” Dain cried in dismay. “How can everyone think so ill of me? I went with the smith, that’s all. If I’d known the Nonkind were going to attack Thirst, I would have been here to help fight.”

“They didn’t attack Thirst. Who is spreading that tale?” Thum replied. “But it was bad enough, by what I’ve heard. None of us fosters were allowed in the battle, thanks to you and Mierre.”

Dain frowned. “What do you mean? Am I to be blamed next for lightning striking the tower? For the sky turning dark? For the rain that’s falling? What else?” “Do not turn your bad temper on me. You asked what’s amiss, and I am only telling you.”

“I am not angry at you,” Dain said by way of apology.  Thum nodded, then sighed gloomily. “What’s all the practice and training for, if we’re to be kept in the hold with the women and children?” “Saw you none of the battle?” Dain asked in sympathy.

“Nay, not one blow.”

“Who gave such an order, keeping you home?”

“Sir Bosquecel. He said we were lazy, unprepared louts who couldn’t bear arms any better than the serfs.”

Dain blinked in astonishment. “But that’s not true. Nor is it fair.” “None of this is fair,” Thum said. “You have no idea of how angry he is. Well, they all are. Squabbles and quarreling in all directions, for days now. And once the Lunt knights came, there’s been trouble with them as well. They eat like horses and drink like fish. And gamble? Morde! But it’s worst between Sir Polquin and Sir Bosquecel. They blame each other for what happened. It looked like they might come to blows on the practice field the day of the contest, and they are not speaking to each other still.”

Dain frowned, trying to make sense of all this. “Because I left the contest?” “Nay, because of Mierre. Oh, I tell you, Dain, you and he both have caused more upset this week than I could think of to do in a year.”

“I wish you would tell your story straight and not jump from one thing to another,” Dain complained. “I do not understand what happened.” “Well, and while there was all the trouble over the contest and Mierre, you were discovered missing.”

“I left in plain sight with Lander,” Dain said defensively.  “Aye, so the guards said. But Lander told no one where he was going, nor did you. Lord Odfrey believed you would not stay with the smith but instead strike out on your own. And then Lord Renald rode in with news of Nonkind raiders. Lord Odfrey sent men out searching near and far for you. He was certain you’d be killed.”

“I’ve been dodging Nonkind all my life,” Dain said with a shrug. “He had no need to worry.”

“Well, he did, just the same. And so did Sir Terent and Sir Polquin—and all of us.”

Dain frowned, feeling bad. “I did not mean for anyone to worry. I was fine.” “Lord Renald was angered that men were spared to search. He said everyone was needed for fighting, even fosters. That’s when Lord Odfrey forbade any of us, from the prince down to yours truly, to leave the hold.” Uncomfortable, knowing he’d done wrong to cause them such concern, Dain changed the subject. “Who won the contest?”

“Mierre, of course.”

Dain hissed through his teeth. He was not surprised, but the idea of that hulking bully serving Lord Odfrey infuriated him. From now on it would be Mierre who burnished the chevard’s armor, Mierre who honed and polished his weapons, Mierre who fed his dogs, Mierre who rode at the chevard’s flank along with Sir Roye. Dain had wanted that position with all his heart, for he craved Lord Odfrey’s attention. He wanted to repay the man for his kindness this year by serving him better than any squire had done before. But instead it would be Mierre, churlish and lazy, at Lord Odfrey’s side. Before today’s attack, Dain had always disliked Mierre, but now he hated him as much as he hated the prince.  They were two of a kind, cruel and self-centered. How could Lord Odfrey stand to have Mierre in his service?

“And you, Thum?” Dain asked irritably. “Couldn’t you find a way to defeat him that day? I would have had the honor go to you.”

“Thank you, but once I was unhorsed by Mierre’s lance, that finished me.” Thum touched his face proudly. “That’s how I came by this.” Dain admired his puffy and discolored eye. “I have never seen a better one. Did it hurt much?”

“No,” Thum boasted. “Well, not much. But you should have seen it the first night, swelled out to here. I couldn’t open my eye, and Sulein thought I might lose it.”

“Like Sir Roye,” Dain said, both revolted and fascinated by the idea.

“I’m glad to have my sight as good as ever,” Thum said, betraying his relief.  “It would be hard to earn my knight’s spurs with only one eye. I had no balance while it was swelled so, and I kept bumping into things.” “If you’re going to lose an eye, it should be after you’re knighted and happen while you’re in a great battle,” Dain told him. “Not in a small contest with padded weapons.”

“Aye,” Thum agreed fervently. He placed his hand over his heart. Making a fancy bow, he said in falsetto voice, “And now, dear maiden fair, let me tell you how I came by my scar. Neither in battle nor in king’s joust, but only by riding full tilt into my practice opponent’s lance like a dolt and unhorsing myself.” Dain laughed. “Unhorsed by the quintain.”

Thum laughed with him. “Aye! Mierre is stupid enough to be a practice dummy.” Dain puffed out his chest and spun about stiffly in an effort to imitate Mierre, but it made his arm hurt and he stopped the play with a wince.  Thum sobered abruptly. “But you have taken real injury at his hands. Is it true what little Hueh says, that both the blackguards fought you at once?” Dain hesitated, but he saw no reason to deny it. “Aye,” he said grimly. “They did. Pagans deserve no honorable treatment, I suppose.” “Do not say that!” Thum said angrily. He scowled. “The cowards. They are both bad to the heart. The day they leave this hold can’t come too soon for me.” “Leave?” Dain echoed in puzzlement. “But if Mierre is Lord Odfrey’s squire—” “But he isn’t!” Thum said. His hazel eyes danced with more news. “I wish you had stayed to see it. The contest ended, with me on the ground and my mouth full of dirt, and Mierre was declared winner. Sir Terent looked like he’d eaten sour fruit, and Sir Nynth would not applaud.”

Imagining it, Dain smiled. “What happened? Did Lord Odfrey refuse to have him?