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Authors: Phil Tucker
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flourish.
Asho took a deep breath and held his Lady’s eye. “I swear it, my Lady. He knighted me before quitting the field. He asked that I enter his service, but I told him my loyalty lay with you.”
“Oh, come on,” said Bertchold. “You expect us to believe this nonsense? Next you’ll be telling us that the First Ascendant himself descended through the White Gate to gild you with lightning. If you can’t keep your fantasies in your head and your tongue in your mouth—”
Asho opened the satchel that hung by his side with stiff fingers, never looking away from Lady Kyferin. His fingers fumbled with the clasp, and then he drew forth a folded square of white cloth. Bertchold fell silent as Asho unfolded the war banner.
“The Everflame,” whispered Menczel, stepping in closer.
The Grace’s banner was torn and muddied, but there was no mistaking it. Asho held it out to Lady Kyferin, who reached down as if in a dream and took it.
“His Grace gave me his banner to honor my service to him.” Asho’s voice felt hoarse. “I fought beside his Virtues and saved his life. He knighted me in gratitude.”
Kethe was staring wide-eyed at him, and even Brocuff looked taken aback. Nobody moved. The Everflame lay in Lady Kyferin’s hands like a tongue of silver fire.
“My Lady,” said Asho, stepping forward to kneel once more. “I ask that you let me serve you as your knight. I know your Lord regretted bringing my sister and me out of Bythos, and had no intention of letting me ever have the honor. But I’m a knight now, regardless, and I swear to dedicate my every breath and thought to guarding your family and your honor. I may be a Bythian, but I swear that I shall do my utmost to protect you. If you will have me, I will be your knight.”
“Sweetly said,” murmured Menczel, and the notes he strummed on his lute were soft and reverential.
Lady Kyferin glanced down at the Everflame, and then extended it back to Asho. A spike of panic arose within him. Was she turning him down?
“I accept your most gracious offer, Ser Knight. The Everflame is a testament to your valor. Keep it, and know that I am honored to have your service.”
Asho’s panic evaporated along with his exhaustion. In that moment he felt as if he could leap walls, fight down a hundred men, and march for a month if it would earn Lady Kyferin’s favor. He rose and took the Everflame, and then bowed low. “Thank you, my Lady.”
“Fine,” said Bertchold. “We have one knight. But as soon as word gets out as to how weak we are, we can expect to be tested. We can’t release the men.”
Silence. Everyone watched Lady Kyferin, who was studying Brocuff. “How long could we withstand a determined siege with sixty men, Constable?”
“Well, that’s a hard question to answer. With so small a force, I’d advise pulling back to the barbican and the keep. We’ve enough food and water stocked to last a good six months. Though if the enemy were large enough, we’d be hard-pressed to withstand simultaneous assaults. With a force that small, I honestly can’t say.”
“We’d sacrifice the bailey and the curtain wall,” murmured Lady Kyferin.
Brocuff nodded, looking uncomfortable. “Yes, my Lady.”
“Bertchold, send out messengers to the homes of the former Black Wolves. Extend our condolences, and thank them for their service. Tell them that our need is now greater than ever. If they can send us a fully armored relative to serve as a new Black Wolf, along with as many men as they can spare, we shall abey taxes for the entirety of the next year.”
Bertchold spluttered, “A whole year?”
Lady Kyferin continued firmly, “Any soldiers who receive requests to return home after these messages are delivered are to be granted permission to do so.”
Brocuff nodded, and Asho saw approval in his features. “As you command, my Lady.”
Bertchold coughed and then puffed out his chest. “My Lady, I served your Lord husband for over twenty
Asho took a deep breath and held his Lady’s eye. “I swear it, my Lady. He knighted me before quitting the field. He asked that I enter his service, but I told him my loyalty lay with you.”
“Oh, come on,” said Bertchold. “You expect us to believe this nonsense? Next you’ll be telling us that the First Ascendant himself descended through the White Gate to gild you with lightning. If you can’t keep your fantasies in your head and your tongue in your mouth—”
Asho opened the satchel that hung by his side with stiff fingers, never looking away from Lady Kyferin. His fingers fumbled with the clasp, and then he drew forth a folded square of white cloth. Bertchold fell silent as Asho unfolded the war banner.
“The Everflame,” whispered Menczel, stepping in closer.
The Grace’s banner was torn and muddied, but there was no mistaking it. Asho held it out to Lady Kyferin, who reached down as if in a dream and took it.
“His Grace gave me his banner to honor my service to him.” Asho’s voice felt hoarse. “I fought beside his Virtues and saved his life. He knighted me in gratitude.”
Kethe was staring wide-eyed at him, and even Brocuff looked taken aback. Nobody moved. The Everflame lay in Lady Kyferin’s hands like a tongue of silver fire.
“My Lady,” said Asho, stepping forward to kneel once more. “I ask that you let me serve you as your knight. I know your Lord regretted bringing my sister and me out of Bythos, and had no intention of letting me ever have the honor. But I’m a knight now, regardless, and I swear to dedicate my every breath and thought to guarding your family and your honor. I may be a Bythian, but I swear that I shall do my utmost to protect you. If you will have me, I will be your knight.”
“Sweetly said,” murmured Menczel, and the notes he strummed on his lute were soft and reverential.
Lady Kyferin glanced down at the Everflame, and then extended it back to Asho. A spike of panic arose within him. Was she turning him down?
“I accept your most gracious offer, Ser Knight. The Everflame is a testament to your valor. Keep it, and know that I am honored to have your service.”
Asho’s panic evaporated along with his exhaustion. In that moment he felt as if he could leap walls, fight down a hundred men, and march for a month if it would earn Lady Kyferin’s favor. He rose and took the Everflame, and then bowed low. “Thank you, my Lady.”
“Fine,” said Bertchold. “We have one knight. But as soon as word gets out as to how weak we are, we can expect to be tested. We can’t release the men.”
Silence. Everyone watched Lady Kyferin, who was studying Brocuff. “How long could we withstand a determined siege with sixty men, Constable?”
“Well, that’s a hard question to answer. With so small a force, I’d advise pulling back to the barbican and the keep. We’ve enough food and water stocked to last a good six months. Though if the enemy were large enough, we’d be hard-pressed to withstand simultaneous assaults. With a force that small, I honestly can’t say.”
“We’d sacrifice the bailey and the curtain wall,” murmured Lady Kyferin.
Brocuff nodded, looking uncomfortable. “Yes, my Lady.”
“Bertchold, send out messengers to the homes of the former Black Wolves. Extend our condolences, and thank them for their service. Tell them that our need is now greater than ever. If they can send us a fully armored relative to serve as a new Black Wolf, along with as many men as they can spare, we shall abey taxes for the entirety of the next year.”
Bertchold spluttered, “A whole year?”
Lady Kyferin continued firmly, “Any soldiers who receive requests to return home after these messages are delivered are to be granted permission to do so.”
Brocuff nodded, and Asho saw approval in his features. “As you command, my Lady.”
Bertchold coughed and then puffed out his chest. “My Lady, I served your Lord husband for over twenty
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