“Sire,” he said, “would you—”
Dain shot him a look that silenced him, then glared at Alexeika until the red in her face intensified.
She pulled off her cloak and jerked at the lacings of her gorget and hauberk. Thum started to help her, but Dain gave him a quick head shake and he backed off.
Alexeika flung the red mail on the ground and stood there in her tunic, her eyes flashing defiance.
Involuntary admiration touched Dain, and he could not help but smile at her temper. “Better,” he said. “Now kneel before me.”
Her eyes flared wide, and in an instant all the color drained from her face.
“No,” she whispered.
“My lady, you seem determined to defy your king today at every opportunity,” Dain said harshly.
Tears swam in her eyes. She dropped to her knees and bowed her head. “A warrior you are already,” Dain said, drawing Truthseeker once more while Sir Thum and the dwarf boys looked on in awe. Dain noticed that a few other dwarves had come up to stand in a curious cluster. “Your valor is proven in combat.” She shook her head. “I am unworthy of honor, sire,” she whispered. He frowned, unsure why she’d become so feminine and moody of late. But he wasn’t going to be thwarted. “Let your king determine that,” he said in rebuke, wishing she would learn to be silent. “Now, I do grant and bestow knighthood on this lady, Princess Alexeika Volvn, a true and worthy servant of her king.” He touched her shoulders with the flat of Truthseeker’s blade, then extended the hilt to her as he had done with Thum.
She knelt there a moment as though she would refuse. Exasperation filled Dain. He did not understand her at all. “Alexeika,” he said sharply.
When she tipped back her head to look at him, tear tracks shone on her cheeks.
“A maiden cannot be a knight,” she whispered.
“She can if I make her so.”
More tears spilled from her eyes. He frowned, wondering what was wrong. He’d believed this would please her.
Struggling to explain, he said, “I—I thought this would honor you. ‘Tis a fitting tribute to your father as well. You are indeed a worthy and courageous heir to his name and sword.”
Many emotions filled her eyes. In silence she kissed the hilt of Truthseeker, then drew Severgard. Its huge sapphire gleamed in the sunlight as she held it aloft by sword tip and hilt, balanced thus on her fingertips. “This great sword was pledged to the faithful service of King Tobeszijian and to his father before him,” she said gruffly. “Now do I pledge it anew to the service of Faldain, son of Tobeszijian.”
She proffered it to Dain, and he touched it lightly. The black blade flashed with dazzling brilliance, radiating a white light.
Dain felt the tingle of its energy pass through his fingers, and in that moment he absorbed a hint of the weapon’s incredible magic, a magic vastly different from Truthseeker’s power. Then Severgard’s radiance vanished, and it looked like an ordinary sword once more.
He stepped back, clenching his tingling hand. “Rise, Sir—” He halted and laughed a bit self-consciously. “Forgive me. This is a time when a herald would be invaluable. By what title shall I call you?”
She said nothing, busying herself instead with sheathing Severgard as she rose to her feet.
He glanced at Sir Thum, whose eyebrows were still high. “Um, er, well,” Sir Thum said, blinking rapidly. “To my knowledge there has never been a lady knighted before. At least not in Mandria—I know not the history of Nether. But would she not use her higher title? After all, sire, you are a knight, but it is your highest rank that—” “Ah,” Dain said, feeling foolish for not having worked this out for himself. “Of course. Thank you. Come, princess, and accept this gift.” She looked startled and tense, like a doe ready to leap out of sight into a forest thicket. “But I—” He’d already pulled the second set of spurs from his pocket and was holding them out. “Fellow comrades were we in the desert,” he said with a smile. “Accept these with my wishes of friendship.”
She went to him and took them shyly, but her eyes would not meet his. “I thank your majesty,” she said.