Demmin diverted his eyes to the ground: "Yes, Master Rahl." He looked back up. "Please know that I only bring my concerns to you because I want success for you. You are rightfully the master of all the lands. We all need you to guide us. I wish only to be part of delivering you victory. I fear nothing but that I should fail you."

Darken Rahl put his arm around Demmin's big shoulders, looking up at the pockmarked face, the streak of black hair through the blond. "That I had more like you, my friend." He took his arm away and picked up the bowl. "Go now and tell Queen Milena of our alliance. Don't forget to summon the dragon." His hint of a smile came back. "And don't let your little diversions make you late in returning."

Demmin bowed his head. "Thank you, Master Rahl, for the honor of serving you." the big man left through a backdoor as Rahl went out the one into the garden. The guards stayed in the small, hot, forge room.

Picking up the feeding horn, Rahl went over to the boy. The feeding horn was a long brass tube, small at the mouthpiece, large at the other end. The big end was held up to shoulder height by two legs, so the gruel would slide down. Rahl set it down so the mouthpiece was in front of Carl

"What's this thing?" Carl asked, squinting up at it. "A horn?" "Yes, that's right. Very good, Carl. It's a feeding horn. It's a part of the ceremony you will be in. The other young men who have helped the people in the past have thought it a most fun way to eat. You put your mouth over the end there, and I serve you by pouring the food in the top."

Carl was skeptical. "Really?"

"Yes." Rahl smiled reassuringly. "And guess what, I got you a fresh blueberry pie, still warm out of the oven."

Carl's eyes lit up. "Great!" He eagerly put his mouth over the end of the horn.

Rahl passed his hand in a circle over the bowl three times to change the taste, then looked down at Carl. "I had to mash it up so it will go through the feeding horn, I hope that's all right."

"I always mash it up with my fork," Carl said with a grin, then put his mouth back over the horn.

Rahl poured a little gruel into the end of the horn. When it reached Carl's mouth, he ate it eagerly.

"It's great! The best I ever had!"

"I'm so pleased," Rahl said with a shy smile. "It's my own recipe. I feared it wouldn't be as good as your mother's."

"It's better. Can I have more?"

"Of course, my son. With Father Rahl, there is always more."