Except he had done more than that and he hadn’t actually taken anything for himself yet.
Fen lowered his head to conceal his study of the camp and also to consider his empty bowl and if anyone would object if he were to lick the sides clean. His stomach rumbled. He left it to rumble, although the sound stirred the giant dog now flopped over Fen’s boots.
He didn’t think he would be executed for asking for more food, but also didn’t want to be more of a burden. If the Wild Dog and his close friends could trust noble soldiers enough to eat and sleep alongside them, then they should be able to trust Fen. Someday. At least enough to not kill him.
Or the Wild Dog had no interest in trusting Fen and would keep him alive only to trade him back to The Acana or The Geon for something he wanted.
Fen gave in and lifted the bowl to his face.
The Wild Dog sat on the end of the log across from Fen with no warning and met Fen’s eyes over the rim of the bowl. Fen very slowly lowered it, wiping stew from his cheeks quickly although it was too late for discretion.
The Wild Dog—Lan—had removed his outer cloak and whatever armor he’d worn beneath that. His tunic and the long-sleeved shirt underneath were different shades of brown and of fabric only slightly better spun than the cloak had been.
He reached down to pet the head of the dog and regarded Fen with the same expression he’d had when Fen had first seen him. “You won’t even ask for more food, Earl’s cub?”
“I’ve done nothing to earn more,” Fen explained, stumbling at theneedto explain.
Lan looked at the dog, then back up. “You fill your bowl as needed here, understand? If The Acana didn’t teach you that, we will.”
Fen nodded but didn’t get up. Lan continued to regard him in his perplexing, mysterious fashion for another moment, then made a rough noise and got up, taking Fen’s bowl from his hands. He left Fen to clutch his spoon as he refilled the bowl himself then handed it over before sitting again.
“I didn’t see you eat,” Fen observed cautiously as he set the warm bowl in his lap so he could use the spoon with his bound hands.
“I’ll eat when everyone else has—another lesson The Acana should have taught you.” Lan crossed his arms. “The Earls do not know what they should, or choose to ignore it.Eat.” This was nearly a growl.
Fen ate, eyes down once again.
“So,” Lan began after Fen had consumed half of his second bowl, “I’ve never had a hostage and you’re the first to offer an alliance. Tell me more of what that means to nobles like you. Whatever you offered me, it was not what The Acana offered The Geon with you.”
Fen raised his head.
Lan waited, scratching behind the dog’s ears.
Fen swallowed. “It is as I told you,” he began haltingly. “A family member is sent to live with another family in hopes of building friendly relations, in favor of their house, of course, but both are supposed to benefit. Even noble families have different ways among them and it’s smart to learn as many as you can for the future. Friendship is encouraged as well, and eventually, advice on important matters might be offered. With The Geon, as one example, I would be expected to speak on behalf of The Acana but also to please The Geon. And I would send news back to The Acana—not covertly. That I would be doing so would be known and also expected.”
“None of it is covert yet I doubt either of you would speak of it directly. As is the way of noble houses.” Lan crossed his arms again. The dog got up, circled around, then laid its head back over Fen’s boots.
“No, the pretense is that we are friends before we are ever really close.” Fen cautiously had another bite of stew.
Lan cocked his head to the side, as seemed to be his habit.Much like a dog, Fen thought but wisely didn’t say. Lan regarded him with interest. “So where is your loyalty supposed to lie, with your new friend or with the family that gave you your name?”
“Ultimately with the new friend,” Fen answered when he could. “But that is also unspoken when the alliance is new, since it would be a lie then. And, as it often does, if the friendship grows to more, to bed-sharing or love or even a marriage, then it would become true. To enter into something like that and then betray them would be serious, worth fighting over. No one would ally with a house that went that far.”
“But your mother is still of the Bal, not the Acana?” Lan prompted.
Fen snuck another mouthful, wishing that Lan wasn’t watching so closely. He couldn’t help being hungry. “Yes. Their alliance was never a marriage, although even then, she is proud of her family and wouldn’t want to lose the connection to them. In fact, I….” Fen stared at his food. “If not for me, and her friendships with some in The Acana’s holding, I think she would have returned to her family long ago. She might do so now, with me gone.”
Lan expelled a heavy sigh.
“There are some who have taken to combining their family names after a marriage,” Fen went on quickly before any comments could be made. “I assume only among the families of Earls. Anyone else would be happy to take the better family name.”
“Better,” Lan echoed with quiet scorn.
“What do others do?” Fen wondered, momentarily distracted by the thought.
“Unless you plan on marrying someone outside your circles, I wouldn’t worry about it, son of The Acana.” Lan did not use Fen’s name. He might not know it, although Heni or Race might have told him. He could have known it all along if he’d heard that song with Race. Fen’s name did not seem to be a concern of his. But strange things were. “The Geon is a fool, certainly. But why would he trust you even a fraction if he knows all this as well as you?”
Fen looked over, then slowly raised his head.
