I gathered up the reins, and he stood back from the horse’s head. When I had gone a few paces I drew rein, and, turning in my saddle, spoke to him across the dew-drenched grass. “This is a trust, Diccon,” I said.

The red came into his tanned face. He raised his hand and made our old military salute. “I understand it so, my captain,” he answered, and I rode away satisfied.