A page indicated a place for our provisions, and handing Thavis a hide covered bundle, announced that Wayland would expect us to show ourselves within an hour. Already men were erecting a large blue pavilion in the pass, and small cook fires were making themselves apparent here and there along the column. An army on the march survives mostly on hard bread, cheese and such, but hot water, for a variety of reasons, was always attempted.

Thavis unwrapped his bundle with unconcealed delight, exposing a Lyre of curved horn. He immediately began to strum and adjust the instrument, a process that mainly seemed concerned with knocking in or loosening a series of slotted wedges that tensioned the gut strings of the thing. Chord floated over to us, dusting off his robe as he came.

"Most all of the holes are closed, I believe. Orton and his crew are still at it further up, but Veddek seems to have been satisfied to pepper only the Dervin end of the pass. All of your nasty caltrops have been recovered. I was made to understand, that I am to be charged for their manufacture by the Nublin?"

Evidently, Brock had not been shy about explaining the arrangement to Chord, but I noted that the mage did not seem to be out of temper over using his credit for my purchases. As I did not know the scope of his arrangements with Brock, this had worried me a little. I just nodded.

"See he gets me the written bill quickly. I intend to submit it, at a modest profit, to Wayland. The ballista too. Send Brock to see to it they are delivered here. I'll not pay to see them carted off to the Nublin armory. I expect a discount, as they were used, or a rebate for their rent."

I didn't know when time to accomplish that might come, but I allowed myself a moment of admiration, being a businessman myself. If ever there was a man whose talents in life were misapplied, it seemed to be Chord. I didn't doubt his scholarship or professional skill, but in my world, he would have been an eminent entrepreneur and one who enjoyed the role.

Thavis had finished tuning the harp, and was picking out notes and harmonies with it, humming to himself."Well," Chord continued, "if you are all ready, perhaps we might present ourselves to Wayland?"

The Duke's tent was surrounded by his personal guards, and the shelters of his staff. Even though we were expected, all eyes turned on us as soon as we approached within a hundred feet of the pavilion. The two soldiers posted at the tent entrance seemed more a matter of protocol, than protection. Inside, the duke sat behind a well constructed table, big enough to spread maps out on.

Flanking the table were his military staff, now seated. Oddly, about a dozen civil, or at least, non-military types, sat about, mostly on cushions of some sort. Everyone seemed supplied with beverages, and the mood struck me as more festive than grim.

Chord bowed as he entered, and turned to stand somewhat off the left. Thavis made the same obeisance, and took station to the right. Following suit, I bowed and went to stand next to the mage. No one said anything, and we stood waiting for a few seconds. Orton strode through the opening, bowed and moved to the table, where I noticed an empty stool waited. As soon as he sat, Wayland motioned to Chord, and spoke. "We are gathered here to know of honor. To hear of events of worth and accomplishment, that have brought glory to our house and name. Mage Chord, who stands to tell of these events?"

Chord strode forward a step, bowed again and said, "A scion of your house, my Duke, Thavis of Wayland would beg to dare the tell. Will you hear him?"

"We will," Wayland agreed.

Thavis, harp in hand, strode to center, and began to play.

He was quite good, and I admit to being interested in actually hearing a bard's epic sung. There were even moments when I could faintly glimpse the traces of real events in it from time to time, though even these were exaggerated almost beyond my ability to appreciate. I likely would have blushed on several occasions, as my name, as well as those of my companions, were frequently mentioned, but it was hard to relate personally to the story as it was presented. Several Deities were mentioned. There were long passages about philosophical issues I had never participated in (poetic license--common, I was later told, to set mood and give direction to the story.)

The ballad was long, and I was beginning to become footsore by the time a few ending chords were struck, but it seemed to please the assembled audience. After, Thavis was generally congratulated and a court scribe took him aside to clarify a few verses. As this went on, further refreshments were circulated. After a while, the Duke called for quiet.

"William of Drake, Squire of our Baron Chord Chesht of Easthold, Mage of the Realm. Bear you witness to these events?"

Chord gave me a nudge, whispering in my ear, "Yes and 'tis a true accounting-then shut up."

I stepped forward and nodded, repeating Chord's words. A document was passed to the Duke, who signed it with a quill pen. Hot wax was dropped on it and after a few seconds, the Duke pressed his ring into it. The scribe recovered the parchment and brought it to me.

"This is your patent, under the mark of Duke Wayland, in the household of Baron Chord. Before the witness of the court, do you profess it?"

The scribes eyes speared directly into mine. I figured out I was not going to be given a chance to have some legal beagle look it over first, and just said, "I do."

This seemed the proper response. Duke Wayland nodded slightly, and continued, "For service to the Dukedom, and on the recommendation of Sir Connor, who stands in witness to your deeds, I would deem you elevated to full knight and at large to the Fief, to be called upon in service to me and to the land. Will you swear fealty?"

A murmur arose at this. I glanced at a deeply frowning, but mute, Chord. I tried to recall what little I knew about the earliest history of the title from my own world, drawing blanks. I knew what the vows of fealty were about, however. It tied me to Wayland's authority. As a patent holder of Chord's house, it seemed a formality, but I suddenly realized this likely meant my services could be called for directly by Wayland, trumping Chord's squireship, regardless of Chord's consent. Effectively, it placed me both under Chord's authority, as member of his house, but under the Duke's directly, should he call.

Of course, this was all moot if I could get back to my own place and time. I remembered something about squires being a step down the ladder, knights-in-training, so to speak. The dual status must have something to do with the way rights and privileges were organized here.

I felt I was not being given status, so much as being bound to Wayland's will, and remembered the cold stone prison walls of Wayland's prior interest in me. I swallowed, and agreed anyway. The ceremony that followed was brief, and pretty much confirmed my guesses. To my surprise, a small grant of land went with the commission, though it was just a few acres of woods adjoining Chord's keep, formerly a part of Wayland's hunt preserve there.

Thavis seemed excited, and slapped me on the shoulder, admiration shining in his eyes.

"A good day for you, William, and well earned!"

"I hope so. I'm not sure I understand exactly what all this means yet."

Thavis looked seriously at me. "I shall instruct you, then, Sir William. The light of your success illuminates me as well. Perhaps you would consider me, were I to offer my service, and be your Squire? A full knight may elevate a member of noble birth to squire, if he chooses, and my patents are good. I tire of being a messenger."

I held up a hand and sighed. "Thavis, I don't even know yet what you are proposing here. Your help is, as always, appreciated; but give me some time to absorb all this."

Chord was next. "I don't suppose you had any real choice. It is not as I would have had it. I suppose I will need to find another smith now."

"Not," I replied, "if I have anything to say about it."

"Well, that's good to hear. We must go over all further military efforts with Wayland. As you are Knight-at-large, he will have far more to say about your doings than before, Sir William. My guess is you will be spending a fair amount of time in Corbell, when this bicker finishes. Your salary from me is now officially a stipend, as squire. Good to hear you intend to earn it. You can pay some of it back to me for taxes, as you are a landholder in my district now."

Evidently rank hath more than just privileges, I thought.

Orton excused himself from the table, and came to shake my hand, with a smile frozen in place, gritting out between his teeth, "Well, now you have done it. This will make our work all the more difficult, and the Duke involved at every turn. I thought you were going to avoid Wayland till Felway's estate was breached."

"Best laid plans," I said. "There was too much to carry, in the end, to avoid Felway's men, and sneak into a beleaguered town. So this was the only way. Wayland agreed to let me try the estate, and hasn't asked any questions, so far."

Still smiling, Orton leaned forward and said, "that just means he already knows more than we think he does. Be careful. We will talk later."

Things wound to a conclusion, and we left to take our places in the columns. The pass end was only four miles or so from our present position, so barricades were already set up to the front of the march. We ate, and as evening was closing in, set out our bedrolls to catch what sleep we could.