Chapter 18: Harvest Muster

Six hundred recruits and officers stood in the yard of Greywater Keep at noon, in ranks, in grey.

The king sat on a dais at the east wall with his clerk behind him.

Theron stood at the foot of the dais in his black coat.

Linnea stood in the third rank with Edda at her shoulder.

The three witnesses from the road stood to one side under a sergeant's guard, the innkeeper, the seamstress and the stable hand.

The seamstress was shaking.

"Say it with me," Edda whispered. "One for the river."

"I don't need it for this," Linnea said.

"Then what are you doing?"

"I'm going to listen."

The clerk read the king's order in a dry, clear voice.

When he reached the last paragraph, he looked up.

"The king is pleased to announce," he said, "that the inquiry into Major Severin Valerius has found him free of fault."

He turned a page.

"He is restored to his rank, with the king's regret for the insult."

A murmur ran through the ranks.

A man in a major's grey coat walked out from behind the dais.

Severin Valerius was smiling.

He had shaved, and he wore a clean sword on his hip.

He walked the length of the yard to the king's step and knelt.

Linnea's stomach turned over.

She heard him from forty paces, because he was thinking so loudly.

They can't touch me. The clerk's word is the king's word. The girl will say nothing. Let her try.

She stepped out of the rank.

"Recruit," said the sergeant at her shoulder.

"I ask leave to speak to his majesty," she said, loudly.

The yard went silent.

The king looked at her across it.

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