It was protocol for the Squire to introduce himself to the Duke, and Duval was taken completely off guard. He stood there, unsure of whether to take the Duke’s proffered hand or bow, so he gave a rapid and awkward bow, and reached out to take the Duke’s hand just as it was being withdrawn. Jimmy almost hurt himself trying not to laugh.
“Ah . . . Your Grace,” said the flustered squire from Bas-Tyra. “I’ve come to place my sword at your disposal.” He saw Jimmy standing off to one side, and said, “James?”
“Marcel,” Jimmy said with a slight bow.
“I didn’t know you were here, Squire.”
“It’s Earl, now, actually,” said Duko.
Marcel’s eyes widened, which heightened his comic appearance. For while he was dressed exactly like his men, he had elected to wear a larger helm, with stylized wings on each side. He had a round face, with a large waxed mustache that stuck out on either side.
“Congratulations,” said Marcel.
Jimmy couldn’t resist. “I received the office upon my father’s death,” he said seriously.
Marcel Duval had the decency to blush a furious red color, stammer and appear close to tears over the gaffe. “I’m so sorry . . . m’lord,” he said with a tone so apologetic it bordered on the comical.
Jimmy swallowed a laugh and said, “Glad to see you, Marcel.”
Duval ignored the remark, totally defeated socially. He turned to Duko and, mustering as military a manner as he could, said, “I have fifty lancers at your disposal, m’lord!”
Duko said, “I’ll have my sergeant get your men billeted, Squire. As long as you’re in my command, you’ll carry the rank of lieutenant. Join us for supper.” Duko shouted, “Matak!”
The old soldier who opened the door, said, “Yes?”
“Show this officer and his men a place they can pitch their tents.”
“Yes, m’lord,” said the old soldier, holding open the door to allow Duval to flee.
When he was gone, Jimmy laughed, and Duko said, “I take it you didn’t get along with him before?”
“Oh, Marcel is harmless, if a bore,” said Jimmy. “When we were boys in Rillanon, he was always trying to intrude into social situations to which he had not been invited. I think he was trying to get on Patrick’s good side.” Jimmy sighed. “It was Patrick who couldn’t stand him, actually. Francie, Dash, and I got along well enough with him.”
“Francie?” asked Duko.
Jimmy’s expression clouded over, as memory of her suddenly inserted itself in his consciousness. “The Duke of Silden’s daughter,” Jimmy supplied.
“Well, he has fifty men. We’ll get them into shape, and if nothing else, they’ll be very obvious on patrol, so the Keshians will know they’re around.”
“They’ll be hard to miss in those scarlet tunics,” said Jimmy.
A knock came at the door and it opened, and a messenger hurried in. Handing a packet to Jimmy, he said, “Messages from Land’s End, m’lords.”
Jimmy took them, opened the packet, and Duko waved the messenger outside. Jimmy quickly sorted out those messages that were urgent and other communiques that could wait, then opened the first. “Damn,” he said as he skimmed the letter. The Duke was learning to read the King’s tongue, but it was more efficient to let Jimmy read and sum up for him. “Another raid and this time two villages south of Land’s End were sacked. Captain Kuvak is withdrawing from patrolling there, as the villagers have fled and they no longer require the Earl’s protection.”
Duko shook his head. “Some protection. Had he been protecting those villages, they wouldn’t be sacked!”
Jimmy knew the static front was wearing on everyone’s nerves, especially the Duke’s. Kuvak had been one of Duko’s most trusted officers, which is why he had been selected to oversee the defense of the castle at Land’s End. Jimmy jumped to the end of the report. “They still give the castle wide berth, and he’s routed two other raids in the area.”
Duko walked back to the window and looked out at his rapidly growing town. “I know Kuvak’s doing the best he can down there. It’s not his fault.” He looked at the map. “When will they come?”
“The Keshians?”
“They’re not going to do this forever. There’s a reason behind the raids and the probes. They will eventually show us what their intent is, but it may be too late.”
Jimmy was silent. While ambassadors were negotiating at Stardock, men from both nations were dying. Jimmy knew that the strike would come if and when the Keshians decided they could strengthen their negotiating position by doing so.
A strike at the Vale of Dreams, an attempt to seize the western coast from Land’s End to Port Vykor, or a strike directly at Krondor, all were possible. And they were only able to defend two of those three locations, so they had a one in three chance of being wrong, tragically wrong. And lingering in the back of his mind was that escaped Keshian officer, and what he knew.
“Up here,” said Dash.
Turning and looking up, Trina smiled, and Dash was again struck with how attractive she could be should she ever decide to play up her looks. “You’re getting better, Sheriff Puppy.”