years of service. I couldn’t simply put him out before he could make his arrangements.”
Adro cringed inside. A man that old would be unable to defend his lord against a younger battler with ill intentions. There should be an age limit on guardian positions, making room for men like Adro who were more capable and more ambitious.
“Give him leave to retire and promote your strongest fighter,” Gavin said. “Honor his loyal service with a pension o’half his wage. I’ll cover the cost.”
Adro’s admiration for his friend and king soared. A pension. What a fine and honorable thing to do.
The old lordover’s eyes widened, and a smile appeared in the beard. “Thank you, my liege. He will be overjoyed. Thank you.”
“If you’ve no other plans,” he said, “join my wife and me for supper tonight.”
“Oh. Uh, the Lordover Tern has graciously invited me to dine with his family. I’ll cancel of course, my liege.”
“No, don’t cancel if you’ve other plans. Another time.”
“Please make yourself comfortable in His Majesty’s receiving room,” Edan said, “and enjoy some refreshment before you go back out into the rain.”
Risley bowed deeply and shuffled away.
Edan shot Gavin a disapproving glance. “A pension, Gavin?”
Gavin grinned like a boy getting away with mischief. “If I hadn’t claimed the throne, I might’ve found myself in the old soldier’s position one day, outliving my usefulness and begging one o’my nephews for a pallet and piece o’bread. We got to honor our most loyal soldiers, not kick them in the arse as we shove them out the door.”
Adro’s heart swelled with pride in the king as he turned to the waiting crowd, but Gavin called him back.
“I nearly forgot. Tell my wife there’s a couple orphan boys in the dining hall waiting to talk to her.”
Adro nodded. “Right away.”
Chapter 9
When the clock in the temple tower struck twelve o’clock, the guards ushered the remaining petitioners out of the grand hall. As usual, many of them grumbled and complained about how long they’d been waiting, especially those standing near the front of the line. Gavin felt bad, but he would be back here again tomorrow. In the meantime, he had plans to make and problems to ponder, not the least of which was how to deal with the rain, but knowing why Crigoth Sevae had summoned Ritol to kill King Arek was the question that kept him awake well into the mirknight. Maybe one of the books they’d salvaged in the wrecked palace would give him a clue.
The last petitioner had come to complain that the Lordover Tern’s waste collection wagon only visited some areas every other day, and when the wagon was fully loaded, the driver accepted no more. People were throwing the contents of their chamber pots into the street. Even though the rain cleaned it away, the excrement was being washed into the River Athra. People living upstream were soiling the water for those downstream. “That’s people’s drinkin’ water,” he said, stabbing the table with his gnarled forefinger. “It ain’t right.”
“I’ll look into it,” Gavin said. “Thanks for bringing it to me.”
Edan and Daia began to gather up the papers and books and writing supplies. “It’s been a productive day,” Daia said. “You heard eighty-seven people today. That’s three more than yesterday.”
A blonde-haired woman, comely with large blue eyes, walked slowly towards the table, her hands on the shoulders of a dark-haired girl she steered in front of her. The woman held Gavin’s eyes with a curious expression of recognition mixed with doubt and confusion. One of the guards tried to get the woman’s attention and direct her outside with the others, but she seemed not to notice. “You’re King Gavin? Gavin Kinshield?”
“I am,” he answered. Looking at the child, he was struck by her eyes – dark-brown and deeply set, hooded beneath a prominent brow. If he didn’t know better, he’d have taken her for a Kinshield.
“The king sees no more petitioners after noon,” the guard said as she approached. She started to take the woman by the arm, but Gavin stopped her with a raised hand.
“It’s awright. I’ll see one more.” To the woman, he said, “How can I help you?”
“I— I’m confused. My daughter’s father told me his name is Gavin Kinshield. You look like him, but you aren’t him. He has no scars on his face, he has all his teeth in front, and I’m fairly certain he’s older than you. Not by much, I’d imagine, but a few years. ”
He looked the child over again