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. "There are twelve copies of
that book, one for each trainer of squires plus the
original."
He had unintentionally dropped the Voice and
Mask, and immediately brought them back.
"Swordplay is nothing. If you want to be a knight, there
is the Oath and there is the Measure, and they are all.
The Oath is four words, the Measure thirty-seven three-
hundred-page volumes. Which is more important?"
"The Measure," Tarli said firmly, then added, just
as firmly, "unless it's the Oath."
Moran pointed a single finger at the boy. "EST
SULARUS OTH MITHAS. My honor is my life."
Tarli looked at him blankly. "Isn't everybody's?"
Moran stared at him a long time to be sure he
wasn't joking. Rakiel regarded them both with
amusement, which he didn't bother to hide.
"Put your gear in the barracks downstairs, Tarli,"
Moran said. "Classes begin tomorrow."
"Yes." Tarli added quickly, "Sire." He bowed,
bumping the writing desk and bouncing the Draconniel
pieces. As he headed toward the door, he gave Rakiel a
nasty whack with the duffel.
Tarli," Moran began.
The boy whirled, knocking over a candlestick. In
picking up the candlestick, he shattered the water jug
on the dresser.
Moran regarded him gravely
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