Jack stood outside the Lord's Manor, with more than a dozen veterans gathered behind him.
Most bore the scars of battle-some were missing half an ear, while others walked with a limp.
"Jack, don't let us down!"
One man clapped him on the shoulder.
"We old comrades stuck with His Lordship through the Weeping Moon. We can't let those young pups push us aside."
Another nodded. "Exactly. We need to say everything that needs saying. We're not here to cause trouble. We just want fair treatment."
Jack looked at his right hand, which was missing a finger, then at his old comrades behind him.
"Don't worry. I'll say what needs to be said. His Lordship is a reasonable man. He won't turn his back on us old comrades."
An older archer coughed a few times.
"Remember, we're not asking for much. We just want His Lordship to remember who first followed him into battle to build this fief."
"Right. The newcomers can take their own path, but we veterans deserve to be treated as veterans."
"We can't let those lads who know how to write look down on us."
Everyone chimed in, growing more worked up as they spoke.
Jack took a deep breath. "All right, enough talk. Let's go in."
He pushed open the door and led the dozen or so veterans into the Lord's Manor.
They had come armed with plenty to say, ready to demand why Veylin had introduced these exams and why he refused to recognize their contributions.
But the moment they stepped into the study, all their anger, resentment, and courage vanished.
There were only two people in the study. Tristan had just brewed some tea and was handing the teapot to the lord.
Veylin stood beside a bookshelf and smiled when he saw them