The Lions of Al-Rassan. Guy Gavriel Kay

      Fezana.

      At the mention of the name a few men began to nod their heads, looking at their tall, proud king. A glimmering of what this seemed to be about began to come to them, like shafts of the god’s sunlight falling into the clearing. Ramiro wasn’t a jurist or a cleric, after all, and there might be more than hunting in the days to come.

      “I accept your oath,” said the king of Valledo calmly. “We have never found you lacking in honor, Ser Rodrigo. We see no reason to doubt it now.”

      “Well, I am grateful for that,” said the Captain. It was impossible to tell if there was mockery in his voice. He took a step forward, fully into the light. “I do have a request of my own.”

      “Which is?”

      “I will ask Count Gonzalez to swear before the god to guard my family and possessions as if they were his own while I am away. That is enough for me. I need no binding of his death. The world is a dangerous place, and the days to come may make it more so. Should accident befall a Belmonte, Valledo could ill afford to lose its constable as well. I am content with his sworn word, if it pleases the king.”