Count Wyeth changed the subject. "Now what is this I hear about you buying a war stallion? You have a perfectly good horse already."
Kensie told the story of buying Gamin concisely. "Lord Kadhael says he expects the horse to kill me tomorrow." Kensie grinned as he said it.
"Don't get cocky." Wyeth warned. "But ten crowns for a war stallion? The least of them would cost ten times that."
"I would say Gamin is worth three hundred crowns." Kensie said.
"Knowing the Corbies, he is going to try to renege on that." Wyeth sounded doubtful.
Kensie held up his left hand and waggled his signet finger. "He accepted my Baronial signet as pledge for payment in the presence of witnesses. Noble witnesses."
Wyeth laughed. "Lord Corbie is going to explode when he hears that! He's a choleric man to begin with, but he expects his son to be worthy of his rank. He'll box Kadhael's ears all the way around the Palace."
Wyeth clapped his son on the shoulder and sent him to change for the ride back to Poldara House. He smiled when Kensie told him he had invited Urson Felthan to join them. The Felthans were a very old family from the south of Valdemar. Despite their lesser rank and moderate income, they were noted for their faithful service to Valdemar and the Crown. Wyeth hoped Kensie had at last found a friend among the nobility.
Lord Urson arrived at Count Wyeth's suite at precisely the appointed time. Urson had changed into his modest evening suit, which was well made of quality fabric but lacking the elaborate embroidery that adorned the clothes of wealthier nobles. After Kensie introduced Urson to his father, they went to the front portico, where the doorman summoned Count Wyeth's coach. The three got in and the coach set off.
Count Wyeth talked casually with Lord Urson, learning a bit about his family. The boy was open about his situation as a third son from a modest family. Wyeth was impressed by Urson's determination to make his own way in the guard. Wyeth knew too many distant relations of noble families who existed as hangers-on at the family estate, living off the patronage of the title holder and contributing nothing. A commission in the army of Valdemar was no sinecure. Noble rank might get you a place as an ensign, but keeping it and earning promotion depended on ability. The army would break a Count as readily as a commoner.
Wyeth decided he liked the young man and hoped that Urson and Kensie would become friends. Wyeth sat back in his seat and watched the two young men together.
Once Wyeth had finished making his acquaintance, Urson turned to Kensie. "Now tell me how the Weaponsmaster's Companion spoke to you." He demanded with a smile.
While the bemused Count Wyeth listened, Kensie explained to Urson how he had observed Kantor and the other Companions since he had arrived. He explained how he had reached the conclusion that Companions were every bit as intelligent as their Heralds maintained and that the partnered Heralds and Companions did indeed speak mind to mind.
Urson, who had been at the Palace since the end of the war, had already noticed the interactions between the bonded pairs; he needed little convincing to agree with Kensie's conclusions.
"Once I realized they were intelligent, it was obvious that they were listening to all that went on around them and that their reactions were intentional. So, when I spoke to Kantor, I knew his expressions and actions were deliberate. From there it was just a matter of learning to read his posture and reactions. It is amazing how expressive Companions can be without speaking a word."
Urson could not resist a slight tease. "Well, the way you talk to your horse, I'm not surprised you talk to Companions."
Kensie smiled back. "Well, I certainly prefer Blood's company to the company of Evan Aitken and his friends. Not only is Blood more honest, he smells better after exercise."
Urson roared with laughter.
Urson enjoyed dinner with the Count and Kensie. Afterward, they retired to the sitting room. As they entered, Urson's eyes were drawn to a huge painting that covered most of one wall. "Is that the Battle of Foxton?" He asked. The battle was the climax of the Pirate Rebellion, when Lord Marshall Miron Poldara had annihilated the pirate army. The painting showed the moment when the Valdemaran force had broken through the enemy center and rolled over the pirate leaders. The painting, of course, gave a highly romantic and totally unrealistic view of the actual event.
"Yes, it is." Count Wyeth agreed. "How did you recognize it?"
"We have a much smaller version of that in our family home." Urson said.
"Then I suppose you know who the Herald at Count Miron's side is?" The Count said with a grin.
Urson blushed slightly. "Our family history says it is Lord Marshall's Herald Baron Rogan Felthan."
"And your ancestor." The Count added with a nod. Normally, noble children who were Chosen as Heralds had to renounce their titles. Herald Baron Rogan Felthan was an exception due to the fact that there were no others in his family line to take the title if he renounced it after he and his sister were Chosen. To preserve the lineage, Rogan retained the title.
Urson blushed again. "That is what I have always been told. My father's chain of office has a lock Ardod's mane encased in quartz in the badge. Ardod was Rogan's Companion."
"So, there is a bond between our families that goes back centuries." Wyeth said. "Baron Rogan is also one of Kensie's ancestors. One of your many-times-great aunts married a Duke of Marduk. Kensie's mother, Lady Lora, is a sister of the present Duke."
The boys settled into an easy conversation with Count Wyeth, mostly about the salle and the training under Alberich, but also about some of the classes they took in the Collegium as 'Blues'. Neither of them shared classes, so their comments were general. Kensie questioned Urson about the Strategy and Tactics class taught by the Lord Marshall's Herald; Kensie desperately wished to get into the class but feared rejection and scorn if he tried.
Each of them offered circumspect opinions of their fellow trainees in the salle, each tentatively checking the feelings of the other and looking for shared views. Both were too well trained in Courtly Graces to say anything that might give offense, but by the end of the evening, the boys were well on their way to becoming friends.
At the end of the evening, Count Wyeth offered his coach to take Lord Urson back to the Palace. As the rain was still pelting down, Urson gratefully accepted.
The next morning, Kadhael's father was waiting for Kensie when the latter arrived at the Palace with Count Wyeth. Kadhael stood at Viscount Corbie's side, trying to look determined.
Lord Corbie held out Kensie's signet ring. "I am returning this to you and advise you that the so-called agreement to buy my son's horse is cancelled."
Kensie made the bow-to-one-of-higher-rank to Lord Corbie; Viscount Corbie had precedence over Kensie as Baron of Bransat. He held out a purse containing ten crowns. "The agreement stands My Lord. Here are the ten crowns as price for the animal for which I pledged my Baronial signet."
Lord Corbie's face purpled. "You ignorant, cowardly fool. There was no deal. My son spoke in anger and haste, you cannot hold him to that."
"Lord Kadhael agreed in the presence of witnesses. He wished to be rid of the horse and I wished to purchase it. He accepted my ring as pledge for the agreed upon price. That bound both him and me." Kensie's tone was carefully polite, avoiding either an angry retort to Lord Corbie's insult or any hint of condescension.
"He had no intention of selling the horse." Lord Corbie blustered.
"In the presence of witnesses, Lord Kadhael instructed his groom to take the horse to the knackers to be killed. He ordered his groom to bring him the stallion's brand as proof that his order had been carried out. It appeared your son had no wish to keep the horse.
"Rather than see a fine animal wasted, I offered to pay double what the knackers would pay. Lord Kadhael asked for ten crowns and I agreed to the price. I offered my ring as pledge and your son accepted." Kensie kept his voice level and an expression of polite interest on his face.
"You filthy, cheating liar." Lord Corbie roared.
By this time, the argument had attracted the attention of numerous others, who watched to see what would happen. Urson Felthan was among them.
Kensie's expression did not change, though he felt gleeful that he was clearly winning. Pointing to several of the nobles gathered about, he said. "If you choose not to believe me, My Lord, I refer you to Lord Islay, Lord Malvorin, Lord Chesney and Lord Urson, all of whom were present and can bear witness." Kensie carefully selected those around whom he knew disliked Viscount Corbie.
"You insolent puppy, you ought to be whipped!" Lord Corbie raised his hand to strike Kensie's face.
Kensie reacted quickly, catching Lord Corbie as he swung and holding his hand. Kensie placed the purse containing the ten crowns in Lord Corbie's palm and took back his ring. He closed Lord Corbie's fingers over the purse. "There, My Lord, we are done. I am glad we could agree." Kensie grinned broadly while the others gathered around laughed.
Lord Corbie opened his mouth, then closed it, realizing he had been outfoxed and publicly humiliated. He glowered at Count Wyeth. "You have raised a cowardly little cheat." He said. "I will take him to the Court of Noble Pleas over this."
Count Wyeth had been enjoying the spectacle of his son outwitting Lord Corbie; his grin had grown broader as Kensie out-maneuvered the Viscount at every point. He had laughed with the others as Kensie had finessed Lord Corbie's attempt to strike him. He laughed again at the Viscount. "Do so if you will, but remember that the Court of Noble Pleas has the power to penalize you for bringing an unfounded claim. My own destrier is getting old and I admire the young one you recently bought for yourself. It would please me to get two horses for ten crowns."
The surrounding nobles laughed once more.
Lord Corbie looked daggers at the Count. There was no way for him to salvage the situation. "If my health permitted, I would demand satisfaction on the field of honor." He said as he turned and stormed away.
"We are of an age. Perhaps if you had spent the last four years fighting the Tedrels instead of sitting about the Court, your health might permit you to face me." Count Wyeth called after the departing Lord Corbie. More laughter chased Lord Corbie down the Palace hallway.
As the crowd dispersed, Wyeth clapped Kensie on the shoulder. "Well done, son! You let that windbag hang himself on his own tongue."
Kensie grinned a moment, then frowned. "I don't think this is the end of it. I am sure that there will be more. Kadhael may try to force me to a duel."
Wyeth lost his grin. "Do you think you could take him?" He asked.
Kensie bit his lip pensively. "Barring a serious mistake on my part, I am sure I could."
Lord Urson, who had remained behind, nodded vigorously.
"I just do not think Weaponsmaster Alberich would approve." Kensie continued.
"Why should that matter?" Urson asked.
"He is the one man who believed me." Kensie said. "I swore I would not disappoint him."
Urson, who knew the common tale of Kensie's disgrace, said nothing. Newly acquainted with Kensie, he had not asked him about the story: It would have been impolite. But the humiliation of Evan Aitken and seeing Kensie at close quarters yesterday and this morning had left Urson confused as to how someone who was supposedly a coward could be the same person he saw outfight Evan Aitken.
He would ask Kensie later, he decided. In the meantime, he would take action on his own. Summoning a page, he sent a note to the Lord Marshall's Herald begging his pardon and saying that he would be late for his class due to a small errand.
Urson left the Palace and went to the salle, where Alberich was teaching a mixed class of second year trainees from all of the Collegia. He begged the Weaponsmaster's attention and quickly explained Kensie's dilemma, begging Alberich to give Kensie permission to fight a duel with Kadhael if challenged.
"Dueling forbidden is." Alberich shook his head, though he well knew that the nobles frequently ignored the prohibition. "Condone it I cannot."
Disappointed, Urson returned to the Lord Marshall's class.
That afternoon, Kensie sparred with Lovat Astey in weapons class. As usual, Lovat outpointed Kensie in every round. Kensie could not figure out how Alberich saw every error each of them made even when he was apparently occupied with other students. The weaponsmaster seemed to have eyes in the back of his head. Catch them he did, however, and every error was corrected with each move done over until it was right. By the end of their session, both were sweating heavily. Alberich told Lovat and Kensie to walk themselves cool and do stretches.
"You're very good." Lovat said as they walked along. "I don't think you have anything to worry about if Kadhael challenges you."
Kensie felt apprehensive. "Is he going to challenge me?"
"I haven't heard that he has said so," Lovat admitted, "but everyone is assuming he will."
Kensie sighed. "I can't fight him."
"Why not?" Lovat asked, stopping and facing Kensie.
Kensie offered Lord Lovat the same explanation he had given Urson Felthan.
Lord Lovat stared Kensie in the face for several moments, biting his lip as he tried to find words without giving offense. Kensie looked back at Lovat, though his stomach churned from fear that this young lord he had come to admire would call him a coward.
"That will make things difficult for you." Lovat said at last.
The two resumed their circuit of the salle.