He was just pleased that his six women were quick studies, a little quicker than he'd hoped, actually. The three from the City Guard were especially adept in defensive strategies, perhaps because of their riot training. Students, crowds of layabouts and troublemakers, and drunks in fair season sometimes turned into mobs, and the City Guards and constables were trained to deal with a mob in every manifestation, whether cheerful and manic or surly and destructive.
The two Heralds had their own set of valuable skills, especially suited to their day watch, in no small part because they were used to letting their eyes skim over a crowd, looking for someone or something that was subtly wrong. The two Heralds would have their Companions to help, of course—and the Companions made another good reason to have them on day watch. No one assassin, not even a group of three to six, could get past two Heralds and three Companions. And the possibility of getting a group of strangers past sentries and guards and other sharp-eyed sorts by day was vanishingly small.
By night—well, it was possible, but it would have to be very well coordinated, and the number of approaches to get at Selenay would be limited. So once Selenay joined them, Alberich concentrated on escapes—how to get her to where her Companion could reach her, for once she was mounted, she was probably safe. Safer, anyway. Her Companion could get her out of reach of anything that anyone could use at night, for distance weapons would be severely limited by limited visibility. Night watch did have a different problem, for Selenay would be asleep part of the time. The three City Guards solved that problem for him, though, because they were perfectly used to manhandling semiconscious bodies. Even if Selenay was somehow drugged and couldn't be awakened, with a little luck, they'd be able to get her out of harm's way.
"We won't eat or drink anything we haven't brought with us," they told him, before he even asked. "And we won't eat or drink at the same time. That way even if someone's somehow managed to get to our grub, one of us will be able to see that something's wrong."
He was quite satisfied with their progress when he dismissed them at the end of the first day. The bones were there of a good set of three pairs of bodyguards and a first-class set of battle guards. Even Selenay was impressed, and had worked as hard as they did, in a role that did not come naturally to her—that of hiding behind others and allowing someone else to take care of her.
Lotte was the last to leave, and she helped him to clean up the salle before she did. As the door closed behind her, he sat down on a bench in the salle, suddenly feeling exhausted. It had been a long, long day.
The salle was silent, except for the sounds he made himself. The last blue light of dusk came in through the clerestory windows up above and reflected off the mirrors behind him. He unbuckled the straps of his armor with fingers that ached from holding tightly to sword and dagger, and winced at the occasional bruise.
Training the battlefield guards—ah, that would be another question. He'd thought long and hard about it, and had decided to go with a mix of half Heralds, and half Guardsmen, and had given the list to Talamir last night.
He would head up the group around Selenay, and Talamir would be the commander of Sendar's group. The most experienced fighters he chose for Sendar's guards, because on the battlefield, the Tedrels that came after Sendar would be going in for the kill. The ones after Selenay would be handicapped as they would be trying to capture, not kill, so they would hold back somewhat. His people would have no such compunction against them.
And he rather expected that Selenay, once she saw fighting, would be eager to stay out of it. Not that he doubted her courage....
But she was a young and sensitive person, and battlefields were horrors. He was sickened by them, and he was hardened to the death and carnage. Once she got her first taste of real fighting, she should be perfectly willing to stay at the rear of the battle lines with the commanders.
Alberich was not as sanguine about keeping Sendar out of the thick of the fighting.
But then, again, that was not his job. It was Talamir's, and if the King's Own couldn't manage it, no one could. Certainly not Alberich, the foreigner, for to some, perhaps unconsciously even to the King, that was an issue. No matter how people felt about him consciously, somewhere down deep inside, the moment he opened his mouth—
:Perhaps if you worked on your grammar,: Kantor suggested.
:Indeed. In my infinite leisure time,: he retorted as he pulled off the armor he'd worn to protect himself. He had been the "assassin" for all of this practice, and as such, had worked harder than all of them combined. He was in good condition, as good as he'd ever been, but—ah, it had been a hard day, as well as a long one.
At least he'd been too busy to think, too busy to worry.
Today he had neglected all of the Trainees, leaving poor Dethor and a couple of the older Trainees to conduct lessons themselves. Tomorrow he would have to do the same.
And the day after, and the day after that—
He sagged down on the bench, suddenly, with an overpowering sense of guilt. He was supposed to be Dethor's Second, to take the burden of all of this off of the old man. :Ah, Kantor, what am I going to do?: he asked plaintively. :I can't be in two places at once—:
:And if you were not here, who would be teaching the Trainees? And who would have seen to it that Selenay had bodyguards? And who would be drilling the King and Heir's battlefield escorts?: Kantor replied. Someone else, of course. Dethor, and someone else. Someone who wouldn't have Alberich's experience.
Someone else—if he could figure out who that someone else might have been, maybe he could recruit him (her?) to train the Trainees.
:This last lot of Trainees won't see fighting,: he said, after a moment. :We've put everyone who is even remotely ready into Whites by now, but there're still the ones that are a year away from becoming full Heralds. There must be a dozen of them, and I've personally taught all of them from the time they came in as Trainees; I can put them to teaching the younglings, while Dethor supervises.:
:Good answer,: Kantor approved.
:And I can see to it that Dethor stays here, no matter how much he wants to go South with the full army,: he decided, clenching his jaw.: He'll fight me on it, but if the King orders him to stay, then no matter what happens to me, there will still be a Weaponsmaster at the Collegium.:
:He won't like that, but it's a sensible course of action:. Kantor sighed. Mind, all he has to do is try one night in a tent to know that he'd only be a handicap and a liability. One night spent in something other than a warm bed would leave him a cripple.:
By that, Alberich knew that Kantor and the other Companions were already plotting ways to get Dethor to make the experiment. Quietly, of course. Without anyone else knowing, of course. There was no point in embarrassing the old man.