Embarrassment flooded Dain. “I had—”

A knock on the door interrupted him. Lord Renald came tramping in without ceremony. He still wore his mail and stained surcoat, but had left his helmet and gauntlets elsewhere. With his brown hair curling almost to his shoulders, the chevard of Lunt looked young, hardly more than twenty. He wore no marriage ring on his hand, but a very fine sapphire ring glittered on his thumb. Dain caught himself mentally appraising its value, then looked away quickly.  Lord Renald stared at Dain with a lift of his brows, but it was to Lord Odfrey that he spoke: “So here he is.”

“Yes, finally,” Lord Odfrey snapped.

There was no gladness in his voice, no relief, no relenting. Dain frowned, and his own anger and resentment came surging back.

Neither man, however, was paying Dain any heed.

“Forgive me, Odfrey,” Lord Renald said, frowning. “My man had orders to see him safely into your hands, but he failed.”

“Aye, that he did,” Lord Odfrey said grimly.

“I have questioned Sir Metain. It seems he thought delivering the boy within your walls good enough. I’ve dealt with that misconception.” Lord Odfrey nodded while Dain looked from one to the other, still wondering what they were talking about. “It is no fault of yours, Renald,” Lord Odfrey said bleakly. “At least you found him and brought him back.” Frowning, Dain tried to protest. “But I was on my way home—” “Aye, I found the young devil. Jaunting along in a mule cart with a Netheran.” Lord Renald shot Dain a look of distrust and suspicion. “What enchantment did he bear, to be able to pass through the river lands without even a scratch, while the befouled ran there, killing as they pleased? Had I known, had I suspected him of being an assassin, I would have—” “Enough,” Lord Odfrey said, lifting his hand. “Assassin?” Dain said, unable to keep quiet. “Me? But I am not!”

“They’ve called for him,” Lord Renald said, ignoring Dain’s outburst. “They want an accounting.”

Lord Odfrey scowled in visible exasperation. “Nonsense. It’s a ridiculous accusation, and a waste of time. He—” “It must be done, Odfrey. The vote was just cast for trial.” A bleak, defeated expression entered Lord Odfrey’s face. He rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose a moment as though fatigued. “The fools play into the prince’s hands,” he murmured. “Morde! I hoped it would not come to this. A quiet talk here would do as well. Why must he make a huge drama of the matter?” Lord Renald’s face held no expression, but his eyes were not unkind. They flicked to Dain’s face, then returned to Lord Odfrey. “Let me take the eld to them. You need not come.”

“Take me where?” Dain asked suspiciously, feeling the urge to escape.  Lord Odfrey rose to his feet. “Thank you, but no. Dain is my responsibility. I brought him into the hold last winter. I brought this risk to his highness. I will see the matter through to its end.”

“As you wish,” Lord Renald said with a slight bow. “Will it damage your standing with the king?”

Lord Odfrey gestured impatiently. “I cannot be worried with that now.”

“Best you do think of it. It’s unwise to lose the king’s friendship.”

“We are a long way from court.”

“A private messenger from the prince has already been turned back at your gates and prevented from leaving,” Lord Renald said. “And how will that be interpreted?”

“Damne!” Lord Odfrey said. “Prince Gavril schemes like a churchman. He has forced this trial on us and now he tries to bring a higher authority into it.  Morde a day, if his highness wants a trial he’ll have it, but we’ll hold to the law on every point. The truth of this will be decided by my knights and yours.  No one else, for that is the law.”

“Mandrian law for an eld?” Lord Renald asked softly. Lord Odfrey’s face was stone. “There will be no church inquisitor in my Hall.” Dain stared at them both, his mouth open with alarm. He did not yet understand what was wrong or how he could be accused of a crime worth trial and possible inquisitors, but he knew himself to be in dire trouble.

“What has the prince said against me?” he demanded. He thought of this afternoon’s attack, while Gavril sat and watched, smiling. A cold chill ran through Dain, and with it came anger, deep and strong. Sir Roye had tried, in his gruff, hostile way, to warn him that more trouble lay ahead. But Dain hadn’t expected it to come this fast. “Lord,” he said to Odfrey, “please tell me what I stand accused of. A drawn weapon in his presence? But I was already fighting when the prince entered—” “Say nothing of this to me!” Lord Odfrey snapped. “You will speak to the assembly.”

“But I tell you the truth!” Dain said desperately. “It’s too late to appeal to me now,” Lord Odfrey said harshly. “You defied me by running away. And now you have attacked Prince Gavril.”

“No!” Dain said, horrified. In a flash, he finally understood. Gavril’s evil, lying tongue had twisted everything. “Lord, you must listen to me. It was—” “The assembly will listen to you,” Lord Odfrey said, cutting him off. “Master your fear.”

“I did no wrong,” Dain insisted. “Hueh was a witness to what occurred. Sir Roye as well—” “Dain, be silent!” Lord Odfrey said. “We cannot settle this now. If you are innocent, then you must prove that to the knights.”

Dain stopped his explanations, feeling desperation clawing inside his chest. How could he explain? Who would believe his word above the prince’s? Bitterness twisted inside him, and in his mind he could hear Thia saying, “Trust not men, Dain. They will always turn and betray you.”

Lord Renald set his hand gently on Dain’s shoulder. “Better I take him now.” “No,” Lord Odfrey said in a voice like iron. There was fear in him, and Dain’s sense of alarm grew. If Lord Odfrey was worried about him, then truly he stood little chance.

Lord Odfrey shook his head. “Thank you, Renald, but please go and tell them that I’ll bring him in a few minutes.” The chevard’s gaze swung back to Dain and narrowed. “He must account to me first.”

“Be not long,” Lord Renald advised him. “The more wine they drink and the longer they talk, the more trouble can brew.”

“Dain’s delay has already done the most harm,” Lord Odfrey said bleakly. “More will matter little.”

This remark did not seem to impress Lord Renald. “It will be better if he appears of his own accord. If they must come for him, it will look black against him indeed.”

He left with that ominous remark.

Dain frowned at Lord Odfrey. “Who will take my word instead of his?” he asked without hope. “Even you do not believe in my innocence.” “How can I when you have defied me so boldly?” Lord Odfrey retorted.

“I was angry.”

“Anger maketh a fool,” Lord Odfrey said as though quoting someone.  Dain flushed hot. For a moment he wanted to shout curses at the chevard. But when he saw the anguish in Lord Odfrey’s dark eyes, Dain’s throat choked up and he could not stay angry. He had tried so hard in recent months to gain this man’s respect. Now he saw how deeply he had disappointed Lord Odfrey. But Lord Odfrey needed to understand how much he had hurt Dain as well.  Swallowing hard, Dain said, “I wanted to prove myself to you. I wanted to make you proud of me. When you withdrew me from the contest, I was angry, for I wanted to try, even if I entered at a disadvantage.”

“But why run away over something so trivial?” Lord Odfrey asked.

“It was not trivial to me.”

Lord Odfrey frowned, and for a long moment there was silence between them.

Dain broke it with a sigh. “I will never be a knight, will I?”