The man held up a palm and grinned. “No need to get touchy, boy. Right. Imharr and Dayraven, in joining the Mercenary Company of Etinstone, do you swear by whatever god or gods you follow to be faithful to Torrlond’s king and serve him in whatever cause he sees fit to employ you, and to obey his officers, who represent his person, unto death or until such time as he or his representative releases you from his service?” The bored monotone in which the lieutenant recited the oath suggested he had said it many times before.
