Of Father's many sayings, I hated that one most, but it worked surprisingly often. Gregory frowned, and then grudgingly climbed down, singing nonsense in his snarky off-key falsetto.
            "A little power
            By the hour
            Makes a tyrant
            Sure as dogs pant ..."
            I waited, shaking my head, as Gregory climbed down off the stacked kegs. I liked Gregory; he was my best friend. We even looked alike, although he was two fingers taller and a lot stronger. But Gregory wasn't raised by a wise, aged seneschal; Gregory's father had his sixteenth birthday only a week before Gregory was born, and his mother had still been fourteen. All they did was fight, and the older that Gregory got, the worse they fought. Gregory once got stabbed by a knife intended for his father. Several times he'd been picked up and thrown at his mother. When Gregory was only ten, his father had finally killed his mother during a violent argument, and quickly suffered a hangman's noose. I'll never forget that horrible day; Gregory's father's neck didn't snap; he took nearly half an hour to die, while his only son knelt beneath him and alternated between crying unabashedly and throwing rocks at him.
            "Lost forever
            Come back never
            No prize won
            Having no fun ..."
            "That's enough, Gregory," I said, taking him by the arm. "Come."
            Under the furious glare of Fruston, Gregory offered no resistance, but he stumbled from side to side as I steered him toward the doorway. I struggled to keep him from slamming face-first into the hard doorframe, failed with a loud thump!, and then I pushed him out of the kitchen.

            The only thing that Gregory's father ever taught him to do was drink, and Gregory indulged with legendary expertise. But you can't survive a hellish life without building strong reflexes. Once calmed, Gregory wasn't stupid. He liked me to read to him, as he'd never learned his letters, but Gregory couldn't sit still or pay attention to anything for long. He had a ready mind, but wild, and he jumped topics like a waterbug scampering across a stony creek. I tried to make him share my chamomile tea as often as possible, but only weak tea in small doses; strong chamomile tea quickly put him to sleep.
            I opened a door and pushed Gregory into a nearby storeroom full of buckets and rags, and pulled the door mostly closed behind me.
            "Gregory, what're you trying to do to me?"
            "Just having a little fun ...!"
            "On my first day as seneschal, I don't need you having fun!"
            "Oooohhh, little boy can't handle his big job ...?"
            "Are you purposely embarrassing me?"
            Gregory slurped from his stein, then looked about the storeroom, staring as if curious about mops.
            "Don't you think my job's hard enough?" I asked.
            "Who cares what I think?" Gregory demanded. "Your father says I've never had a real thought ..."
            "I'd never say that," I interrupted him. "Look, we're in trouble ..."
            "Trouble ...?"
            "Brioenth."
            "Bah!" Gregory scoffed. "Queen Nettiel wouldn't dare ...!"
            "Her emissaries just left."
            "What'd they want?"
            "They want Baron Theodolf to support their invasion."
            "He'll never ...!"
            "No, but there's no need to tell them that. He sent them back with no reply."
            "What're we going to do?"
            "Prepare for war."
            "Wow!" Gregory said. "Tough first day!"
            "I need some tea," I said. "You could use some, too."
            "Hemlock's the last thing I need," Gregory said.
            "It's chamomile, not hemlock."
            "Same thing."
            "You'd better go sleep this off ... and not let anyone see you."
            "Why not?"
            "Because you don't want to get left behind."
            "They can't leave me behind! I'm a soldier!"
            "If not for me, you'd still be a shepherd," I reminded him. "If you don't want Baron Theodolf sending you back to the flocks, don't let him see you like this."
            "What about you?" Gregory asked.
            "I'll probably stay here," I said. "Run the castle, send supplies, ..."
            "Left behind?"
            "You won't hear me complain."
            "You're crazy!"
            "Managing this castle's a lot of work."
            "Feeling overwhelmed?"
            "A little."
            "I'll help."
            "By getting drunk?"
            "No, I'll sober up."
            "Good. Look, I've gotta get going; work to do, you know."
            "Good luck."
            "I'll need it."
            I aimed Gregory at his bunk, applied an admonishing push, then headed back to the rich furnishings of Baron Theodolf's study.

            "Where've you been?" Baron Theodolf bellowed as I entered.
            "Um ... sorry, sir. There was a ... problem in the kitchen."
            "Let your father handle it," the baron said. "We're facing a crisis."
            "We need to start fortifying the castle!" Uncle Osric said forcefully.
            "We can't let their army make it here," Baron Theodolf argued. "If King Hallek meets them in the pass, any preparations that we begin here will be a waste."
            "Which pass?" Uncle Osric asked.
            "Murdlong Pass," Baron Theodolf said.
            "What about Sligh Pass?"
            "Sligh Pass is too high and a hundred miles out of their way. Why would they go there?"
            "Because we have a wall at Murdlong Pass," Uncle Osric said. "If they send half their forces through Sligh Pass, then they can attack us from both sides. To hold one pass, we have to hold both."
            "Splitting our forces sounds foolish," Baron Theodolf said. "What do you think, Galloway?"
            Although I knew the borders of our lands by heart, I glanced at the map of Aveleck and Brioenth covering the table.
            "We could post scouts in Sligh Pass," I said. "Defend Murdlong Pass until our scouts spy Brioenthian troops, then draw back to Horcrust. We'd arrive two days before them."
            "Not a bad idea," Uncle Osric said.
            "If Castle Horcrust's besieged, even if we win, we're devastated," Baron Theodolf said. "To keep Queen Nettiel's troops from resupplying, we'll have to torch our crops and slaughter our flocks. We'll have no harvest this year and no flocks next year. King Hallek must defeat Queen Nettiel in Murdlong Pass!"
            "We don't know how big their army is ... or where it is," Uncle Osric said.
            "Then we should find out," I said.
            Both Theodolf and Uncle Osric stared at me.
            "How do you suggest we do that?" Uncle Osric asked.
            "Send spies," I said.
            "Armies watch for spies ...," Baron Theodolf said. "and kill any they find."
            "Send a lot," I said. "Some should get back with enough information to justify any losses."
            "You're sentencing men to die," Uncle Osric said.
            "I know these men," I said. "They'd be willing to go; they want to be heroes."
            "Who ...?" asked Baron Theodolf. "You ... you're not talking about ... the village boys?"
            "They have good eyes, ride fast, and they're brave," I said. "They won't let you down."
            "Like your friend Gregory?" Uncle Osric asked.
            "Gregory just needs a chance."
            "To puke on my feet again?"
            I shot an evil glare at Uncle Osric, but he only chuckled at my expression; Uncle Osric and I had been close since I was a child.
            "Gregory will gladly lead them," I said. "What've you got to lose?"
            "They'll have to leave at once," Baron Theodolf said. "How many boys can you get tonight?"
            "At least nine, maybe a dozen," I said, trying to count in my head.
            "Order them to meet me in the great hall for breakfast tomorrow at dawn," Baron Theodolf said. "We'll give them instructions then."
            "Yes, sir."
            "They'll need horses and rations," Uncle Osric said.
            "I'll see to it."
            "How will they get across the Vainob River?" Baron Theodolf asked.
            "They'll have to swim," I replied, "they and their horses."
            "Well, at least we'll get some information," Uncle Osric said. "Meanwhile, what about fortifications?"
            "We can't plan anything until we know which defense King Hallek prefers," Baron Theodolf said. "Without his troops, we can't withstand Brioenth. What do you think we should do, Galloway?"
            I paused, straining for an answer, the kind that Father would give. Uncle Osric and Baron Theodolf were both war veterans; what could I say that wouldn't sound idiotic?
            "We could ... start ... making supplies, like arrows and spears ... right away," I said hesitantly, "We'll need them ... whether we fight here or in the passes.
            Baron Theodolf nodded, but Uncle Osric bristled.
            "Even with supplies, it'll take us weeks to fortify Horcrust," Uncle Osric argued.
            "True," Baron Theodolf said, "but Paultine is four hundred miles away, across desert and mountains. Armies move slowly; the bulk of their forces'll take two weeks to arrive, while we can march to Murdlong Pass in four days. My sons should be back with King Hallek's response in a fortnight."
            "This is insane," Uncle Osric said. "The Vainob River cease to flow? It's madness!"
            "True," Baron Theodolf said, "but Queen Nettiel's army's real."
            "I'd best get going," I said, "... to alert the scouts."
            "Do that, then hurry back," Baron Theodolf said, "Osric, get the fletchers and smiths started. Double our arsenal. Fell lumber, and tell the smith we need nails."
            Grumbling, Uncle Osric hurried out the door, and I turned to follow him.
            "Galloway," Baron Theodolf called me back.
            "Yes, sir?"
            "Your father will be proud of you," Baron Theodolf said.
            "Thank you, sir."
            I walked out conflicted; compliments are nice, but also a reminder that Baron Theodolf still thought of me as a child. I'd yet to prove myself.