The procession made rather poor viewing. Most of the soldiery participating was either too old, too young, or simply indifferent at the profession of arms. Poor men, or those lacking place, were not to be despised, but to Theophanna’s eyes Torm stood out amidst the pack. She wondered what it was he had done to be cast aside by his previous master. She supposed she should have looked into that before suggesting Sigfried made him a squire but truthfully she couldn’t imagine it would matter. Each man turned and bowed to her, leather creaking and chainmail clinking. She didn’t really know she was going to do it until Torm took his bow. She stood up and the troubadour froze his incessant dogerel, Mildreth gasped and both her armsmen glared around as though there might be some threat.


“Step forward squire,” she called to Torm. There was a slight murmuring from the crowd but Torm did as he was bid, his face determinedly blank despite the surprise he must have been feeling. Because of the stand he was looking up at her despite the fact he was close to a head taller than she. Theophanna drew a silken handkerchief from her sleeve and shook it out in the clear morning air. It was a silvery white, stitched with the martlets of the county of Orbai. She extended her arm then let the cloth fall, it floated lazily down and Torm reached up and grabbed it, clearly wondering if she had dropped it by accident.

“You may carry my favor today,” she declared grandly. This earned more gasps. It was far from unheard of for a knight to carry a particular ladies favor into the lists, but usually at the joust or at the arena of champions. It was even done, occasionally, by archers, though the Tirreche tended to look down on archer as a coarser and commoner pursuit than the lance or the sword. It was very unusual for the sourdough field to see such a display however and it clearly took Torm a moment to realise what was happening. Perhaps he had not seen many tournaments in which the high nobility took part?