Enchanter's End Game

approaching, they scrambled awkwardly to their feet.
    "Well, my friends," she asked, trying to put them at ease, "how do you find army life?"
    "We don't have anything to complain about, your Ladyship," Detton replied respectfully.
    "Except for all the walking," Lammer added. "I hadn't realized that the world was this big."
    "They gave us boots," Detton told her, holding up one foot so that she could see his boot. "They were a bit stiff at first, but the blisters have all healed now."
    "Are you getting enough to eat?" Ce'Nedra asked them.
    "Plenty," Lammer said. "The Sendars even cook it for us. Did you know that there aren't any serfs in the kingdom of the Sendars, my Lady? Isn't that astonishing? It gives a man something to think about."
    "It does indeed," Detton agreed. "They grow all that food, and everybody always has plenty to eat and clothes to wear and a house to sleep in, and there's not a single serf in the whole kingdom."
    "I see that they've given you equipment, too," the princess said, noting that the two now wore conical leather helmets and stiff leather vests.
    Lammer nodded and pulled off his helmet. "It's got steel plates in it to keep a man from getting his brains knocked out," he told her. "They lined us all up as soon as we got here and gave every man a helmet and these hard leather tunics."
    "They gave each of us a spear and a dagger, too," Detton said.
    "Have they showed you how to use them?" Ce'Nedra asked.
    "Not yet, your Ladyship," Detton replied. "We've been concentrating on learning how to shoot arrows."
    Ce'Nedra turned to her two companions. "Could you see that somebody takes care of that?" she said. "I want to e sure that everybody knows how to defend himself, at least."
    "We'll see to it, your Majesty," Lelldorin answered.
    Not far away, a young serf was seated cross-legged in front of another tent. He lifted a handmade flute to his lips and began to play. Ce'Nedra had heard some of the finest musicians in the world performing at the palace in Tol Honeth, but the serf boy's flute caught at her heart and brought tears to her eyes. His melody soared toward the azure sky like an unfettered lark.
    "How exquisite," she exclaimed.
    Lammer nodded. "I don't know much about music," he said, "but the boy seems to play well. It's a shame he's not right in the head."
    Ce'Nedra looked at him sharply. "What do you mean?"
    "He comes from a village in the southern part of the forest of Arendia. I'm told it's a very poor village and that the lord of the region is very harsh with his serfs. The boy's an orphan, and he was put to watching the cows when he was young. One time one of the cows strayed, and the boy was beaten half to death. He can't talk any more."
    "Do you know his name?"
    "Nobody seems to know it," Detton replied. "We take turns looking out for him - making sure he's fed and has a place to sleep. There's not much else you can do for him."
    A small sound came from Lelldorin, and Ce'Nedra was startled to see tears streaming openly down the earnest young man's face.
    The boy continued his playing, his melody heartbreakingly true, and his eyes sought out Ce'Nedra's and met them with a kind of grave recognition.
    They did not stay much longer. The princess knew that her rank and position made the two serfs uncomfortable. She had made sure that they were all right and that her promise to them was being kept, and that was all that really mattered.
    As Ce'Nedra, Lelldorin, and Torasin walked toward the camp of the Sendars, they suddenly heard the sound of squabbling on the other side of a large tent.
    "I'll pile it any place I want to," one man was saying belligerently.
    "You're blocking the street," another man replied.
    "Street?" the first snorted. "What are you talking about? This isn't a town. There aren't any streets."
    "Friend," the second man explained with exaggerated patience, "we have to bring the wagons through here to get to the main supply dump. Now please move your equipment so I can get through. I still have a lot to do today."
    "I'm not going to take orders from a Sendarian teamster who's found an easy way to avoid fighting. I'm a soldier."
    "Really?" the Sendar replied dryly. "How much fighting have you seen?"
    "I'll fight when the time comes."
    "It may come quicker than you'd expected if you don't get your gear out of my way. If I have to get down off this wagon to move it myself, it's likely to make me irritable."
    "I'm all weak with fright," the soldier retorted