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Chapter 3:- Fosterling
The practice of fostering was common throughout the kingdoms of Valenna and in recent years had become so in Elbany. Sending boys away from their parents and childhood home to be raised and educated in the household of an ally both eased the transition to manhood and strengthened ties among the kingdoms. The High King of Bruster had introduced fostering to his realm, hoping to create closer relations between his island kingdom and the rest of the Three Lands.
The practice of fostering was common throughout the kingdoms of Valenna and in recent years had become so in Elbany. Sending boys away from their parents and childhood home to be raised and educated in the household of an ally both eased the transition to manhood and strengthened ties among the kingdoms. The High King of Bruster had introduced fostering to his realm, hoping to create closer relations between his island kingdom and the rest of the Three Lands.
Elsbeth’s younger brother Lionel had already left for his fostering. Now, at court, the boys coming to Garland would be formally presented to their new lord.
Two men advanced towards the dais. A boy of about 8 or 9 years old walked between them, his face set in a look of grave concentration. As he came closer Elsbeth could see that his lips were pressed tightly together, as if to help him keep his composure.
“Lord Rhys, son of the lord Owin of Gwynt.” The taller of the two retainers bowed low. “My lord Garland, will you accept the charge of fostering the boy, to teach him the ways of both lord and warrior, to care for him as your own son, for your own honor and that of your fellow lord?”
Lord Garland inclined his head. The boy bowed to him. “I thank my lord Garland, on my own behalf and that of my father.”
Lord Rhys and his men moved to the side as another boy approached the dais. He was a well-looking child, a little older, perhaps, than the Gwyntish lad. Brusterian, clearly. Many within the Three Lands had hair that bark-brown shade but only Brusterians, men and women alike, wore it long. Among the nobles, it was braided into styles particular to their family, identifiable as the designs some Valenian warriors had began painting on their shields signifying their lord and family.
He was accompanied by only one retainer, who, as before, addressed Lord Garland first, speaking the formal words of introduction of a fosterling.
Elsbeth had watched the approach of the fosterlings with polite interest, but not complete attention. The presence of her new-betrothed lord at her side, still holding her hand but ever more loosely, as if he would have preferred to let it go, was necessarily a distraction. From time to time his gaze would make its way to her, but when she would turn her head, trying to meet it, flit away again like a pursued animal.
But when the Brusterian boy’s retainer spoke, Elsbeth turned slowly towards the sound. She knew that voice, knew it instantly, though she had not seen him since the end of his own fostering eight years earlier, knew it despite its difference, deepening further into the tones of a warrior, not the boy that had been.
Murrow of Bruster had returned.
