“Do you wish to take employment in a poor town?” asked Mister Fitz. One of his responsibilities was to advise and positively influence Hereward, but he did not make decisions for him.

“No, I don’t think so,” replied the knight slowly. “Though it does make me recall my thought . . . the one that was with me before we were interrupted by that dismal apple seller.”

“You asked if I ever wondered at the nature of the world,” prompted Fitz.

“I think what I actually intended to say,” said Hereward. “Is ‘do you ever wonder why we become involved in events that are rather more than less of importance to rather more than less people?’ as in the various significant battles, sieges, and so forth in which we have played no small part. I fully comprehend that in some cases the events have stemmed from the peculiar responsibilities we shoulder, but not in all cases. And that being so, and given my desire for a period of quiet, perhaps I should consider taking service with some poor town.”

“Do you really desire a period of quiet?” asked Mister Fitz.

“Sometimes I think so. I should certainly like a time where I might reflect upon what it is I do want. It would also be rather pleasant to meet women who are not witch-agents, fellow officers or enemies—or who have been pressed into service as powder monkeys or are soaked in blood from tending the wounded.”

“Perhaps Shûme will offer some relative calm,” said Mister Fitz. “By all accounts it is a fine city, and even if war is in the offing, it could be soon finished if Shûme’s opponents are of a standard that I can see in Lettique.”

“You observe troops?” asked Hereward. He drew his telescope, and carefully leaning on his mount’s neck to avoid discomfort from the bony ridges (which even though regularly filed-down and fitted with leather stocks were not to be ignored), looked through it at the town.