Matters move quickly for Cherny, once Sir Elliot visited the mill with a letter from his Lady; for his last day's work his master hardly let the boy out of his sight, as if intent on wringing out every last drop of sweat before passing him into the knight's care. Get your things, he'd said, and that was all; his fellows had watched him depart in silence, Kotek with a sullen stare, little Padalec on the verge of tears, for who'd spare him from the older boy's cruel attention now?
The squire meets his new master at the end of the mill road, his few possessions wrapped up in in a bundle of burlap and coarse rope. He speaks little on the way to the Broken Dagger, listening as the young knight enthuses about the path the boy now follows, the path he'd trod in the arcane wastes of distant Lothaine; a life of service - to his knight, to his Lady, and to the ideals of chilvalry and virtue.
His first evening is spent learning to tend to the knight's steed; matters of food and water and bedding, the proper storage of tack and the correct way to groom his coat. The boy is cautious, wary of so large a beast, but listens carefully to the knight's instructions and does the best he can.
That night he sleeps in the hayloft above the tavern stables, his bed a worn blanket and a sack stuffed with straw. His friends are nearby - Son in his own corner of the loft, Many-Fights and his pups in a stall below.
He wakes as the sun rises, and begins his new life.
The days that follow are a blur of new things. In town, at the salon of Mme. Atrahasis he is measured and fitted for livery, quiet and compliant as his knight and the couturier discuss cuts and colours; he pleads a few shillings for clothes in which he might work and train without fear of ruining finery, and procures a smart doublet and britches in hard-wearing black, and a brace of loose shirts so that he might always have something clean; stout leather shoes are a novelty, for all that they raise blisters on his heels until the leather has softened and his skin has toughened.
The mornings are filled with training as Sir Elliot teaches him how to ride, how to grip a wooden blade and how to stand when wielding it; in the afternoons he accompanies his master in performing good works, labouring for the public good - homes for the poor, food for the starving, coin for the destitute, and the squire strives diligently at each task he is set. He knows the value of hard work and honest toil, and is rewarded with hearty meals and the esteem of his knight and his knight's Lady.
He does not shirk. He does not complain. He questions only so that he might understand. He is an attentive shadow at Sir Elliot's side, silent until spoken to, deferential in his speech and quick to bow or beg pardon. He watches his knight closely, learning to anticipate his needs.
He smiles little.