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Sir Thum and the
Princess Volvn? There are no others.
Lord Omas stared at Dain in astonishment of his own.  So the wench in chain
mail claimed, but we could not believe her. Your majesty would not travel with
so small a party.
 They are all that is left, Dain said in a voice of flint.
 Forgive me, sire! I meant no offense. Lord Omas s heavy brows drew together.
 A princess, you say? That piece is I I mean a lady?
 General Ilymir Volvn s daughter, Dain said, annoyed to hear they d not been
treating her with proper respect.  She s no drab, no wench, no camp follower.
If I learn any have treated her as such, those men will answer to me!
Omas tucked in his chin, and although he could not stand at his full height in
the low tent, he gave the impression of a man coming to attention.  I ll see
to it at once, your majesty. And now, if I may have leave to order your supper
and see that Lord Romsalkin is notified that you re awake?
Dain nodded dismissal, and the count vanished through the tent flap with
another gust of icy wind.
Fuming a little, Dain tossed off his fur covers and found himself clad only in
his tunic and leggings. His boots and hauberk were nowhere to be found, but
Truthseeker was hanging by its sword belt on a tent
pole hook.
He belted on the weapon, and his dagger too, wondering what they d done with
his boots. He knew instinctively that Lord Omas was an honest man, but allies
or not, the men in this camp were strangers, and Dain had no intention of
remaining long in this tent when the situation required closer examination.
Shivering as the cold ground numbed his feet through his stockings, he stepped
onto one of the fur robes and wrapped another around his shoulders.
 Sire! called Lord Omas from without.  Permission to enter?
 Come, Dain said impatiently.
The man ducked inside, bringing with him another draft of freezing air and
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snow. Dain ignored the servant following with a tray of food, and scowled at
the count.
 Where are my boots? he demanded.  My hauberk? My cloak?
Omas blinked as though taken by surprise. He turned on the servant, and pelted
him with rapid-fire questions in a dialect that Dain did not understand.
The servant short, old, and wearing a collar of slavery replied in the same
language.
 Ah, yes, Lord Omas said, turning back to Dain.  Your cloak is being dried.
The rust on your hauberk is being polished by my youngest squire. Your boots
are being cleaned as well.
 I want them, Dain said.  And I want to speak to Lord Romsalkin as soon as
possible.
Lord Omas bowed.  At once, majesty. I shall inform his lordship of your
summons 
 Nay! Dain broke in.  I ll go to him.
 But that s not  Omas choked off his protest.  As your majesty wishes.
 Get my boots and a cloak I can use, Dain said.  Have them here by the time I
finish my supper.
Omas started out, but Dain gripped his sleeve.  And tell my companions I wish
to see them.
 Yes, your majesty.
 Have they eaten? Are they well?
 I believe so, your majesty.
Dain was aware he had this man of high rank and perhaps some authority jumping
like a squire, but he gave Omas a curt nod.  That s all for now.
 Yes, your majesty. Omas bowed, then rushed out.
The servant remained behind. He had brought not only food, which was plain
fare but steaming hot, but a pail of warm water to wash in.
Grateful for these civilized amenities, Dain cleaned up and then, with a
ravenous appetite, applied a wooden spoon to the contents of his bowl. It did
not take him long to eat, but by the time he finished, his boots hardly
recognizable for their gleam had been delivered, along with his hauberk. The
latter was freshly oiled, and mended where the sleeve had hung in tatters
before. The servant helped him put on these articles, and by then someone was
outside, handing over a cloak of magnificent lyng fur, pale cream with variant
shades of gray stripes.
Awed by its beauty, Dain could not help running his palms over the soft, silky
fur. He wondered who had surrendered such a fine, warm garment to his use.
The servant threw it around his shoulders before Dain ducked outside, into a
bitter night indeed. The storm had abated, but the breeze was still brisk
enough to feel knife-sharp. Snowflakes continued to fall, dusting his hair and
collecting on the long tips of lyng fur.
He found both Thum and Alexeika standing out there, waiting for him and
jigging up and down to keep themselves warm.
Both of them bowed to him, but Dain wasn t willing to stand on formal
ceremony. Grinning in relief to see that both of them were well, he strode
forward with his hands outstretched, but then noticed a crowd of knights
gathered in the shadowy background, staring at him in awed silence. Dain
realized he must now act like a true monarch. No longer could he rush about
informally as just another knight and comrade-at-arms.
Recalling all he d ever learned from King Verence, he beckoned Thum and
Alexeika to him.  You are well? he asked quietly.
 Yes, sire, Alexeika replied with dignity.
 I shall never feel warm again, Thum complained,  but, aye, sire, we ve been
well treated here.
Dain gave him a fleeting smile, but his gaze shot again to Alexeika. Although [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]