Tiffany paused in the archway and jerked her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the house. Brilliana shrugged her shoulders, impatient of Master Paul’s denseness.
“If you find gold in your search for steel, so much the better. Come, come, this is your happy time, for I am told Master Rainham is abroad.”
She gave a glance for confirmation at Halfman, who lounged forward.
“That he is,” he asserted, briskly. “He has gone a-marketing.”
“Then to it at once!” Brilliana cried, eying the waverer encouragingly. “Take such of my people as you will. You will find some at the stables yonder,” and as she spoke she pointed in the direction opposite to the house. “Master Rainham’s miserliness keeps but a small retinue. You will meet with no resistance. Go forth, my knight.”
Master Paul almost skipped with delight and he cracked his fingers vigorously. He seemed even less pleasing merry than terrified.
“You call me your knight.” He turned and took Halfman to witness. “She calls me her knight. I’ll do it. I’ll do it,” he voiced, exultingly.
Brilliana, with strenuous self-restraint, seemed to applaud his antics.