SENTINEL IN NORTHERN LOIGRIS

TRAVELLERS ON THE STONEWAY

“This border is my beat, and so all that cross it concern me.”

“Knights who patrolled the provinces tended to dress much like the natives whose lands lay on their beat, rather than in full panoply with blazoned surcoat; preferring a costume less obvious, more suited to their work.”

“I'm glad to meet you, my lord .”

Darnil's mouth twisted. “Call me by my name,” he said. “Or Chief, as my men do.”

“Are you Chief of the armies?” Ben asked.

“Oron forfend!” the prince exclaimed. “No, I leave that to others more ambitious. I am merely Commander of Sentinels.”

He leaned back lazily, but without losing, to Ben's keen eye, the constant relaxed alertness of the true hunter.

“Giloran and the men spoke of you,” Ben said. The exploits of the Chief over the last ten years were in fact fast becoming legend. “I hadn't realised you were a prince.”

“I don't stand on ceremony,” Darnil said. “Some may be able to put their royalty on and off with their clothes, but not I. In my work, it's best to be plain with all men.”