“…and when they brought the Renfaelin Lord Theros before the King, wounded and chained, he spat defiance and demanded death rather than kneel before an upstart whelp. King Janus surprised all by laughing. ‘I do not require you to kneel, brother,’ he said. ‘Nor do I require you to die. Scant use you would be to this Realm dead.’ At this Lord Theros replied...”

“‘Your Realm is a madman’s dream,’” Vaelin cut in. “And the King laughed again and they spent a day and a night arguing until argument became discussion and finally Lord Theros saw the wisdom of the King’s course. Ever since he has been the King’s most loyal vassal.”

Caenis’s face fell. “I’ve told you this before.”

“Once or twice.” They were near the river, watching Frentis and his group of youngsters play with Scratch’s puppies. The hound bitch had produced six in all, four males and two females, seemingly harmless bundles of wet fur when she had licked at them on the kennel floor. They had grown quickly and were already half the size of a normal dog, though they gambolled around and tripped over their own paws like all pups. Frentis had been allowed to name them all but his choices proved somewhat unimaginative.

“Slasher!” he called to his favourite pup, the largest of the lot, waving a stick. “Here boy!”

“What is it, brother?” Caenis asked him. “Where does this silence come from?”

Vaelin watched Frentis being bowled over by Slasher, giggling as the pup slobbered over his face. “He loves it here,” he observed.

“The Order has certainly been good for him,” Caenis agreed. “Seems he’s grown a foot or more since he came here, and he learns quickly. The masters think well of him since he never needs to be told anything twice. I don’t think he’s even had a caning yet.”

“What was his life like, I wonder, that this place is somewhere he could love?” He turned back to Caenis. “He chose to be here. Unlike the rest of us. He chose this. He wasn’t forced through the gate by an unloving parent.”

Caenis moved closer and lowered his voice. “Your father wanted you back, Vaelin. You should always remember that. Like Frentis, you chose to be here.”

Ten years, eight months…Mumma said you would come and live in our house and be my brother… but you never did…“Why? Why did he want me back?”

“Regret? Guilt? Why does a man do anything?”

“The Aspect told me once that my presence here was a symbol of my father’s devotion to the Faith and the Realm. If he had come into conflict with the King perhaps withdrawing me would symbolise the opposite.”

Caenis’s expression grew sombre. “You think so little of him, brother. Although we are taught to leave our families behind it bodes ill for a son to hate his father.”

Ten years, eight months … “You have to know a man to hate him.”

Chapter 4

The coming of summer brought the traditional week long exchange with brothers and sisters from different Orders. They were allowed to choose the Order in which they would be placed. It was usual for boys of the Sixth Order to trade places with brothers from the Fourth, the Order with which they would work most closely following confirmation. Instead Vaelin opted for the Fifth.

“The Fifth?” Master Sollis frowned at him. “The Order of the Body. The Order of Healing. You want to go there?”

“Yes master.”

“What on earth do you think you can learn there? More importantly what do you think you can offer?” His cane tapped the back of Vaelin’s hand, marked with the scars of practice and the splash of molten metal from Master Jestin’s forge. “These aren’t made for healing.”

“My reasons are my own, master.” He knew he was risking the cane but it had lost its sting long ago.

Master Sollis grunted and moved down the line. “What about you, Nysa? Want to join your brother in mopping the brow of the sick and feeble?”

“I would prefer the Third Order, Master.”

Sollis gave him a long look. “Scribblers and book hoarders.” He shook his head sadly.

Barkus and Dentos chose the safe option of the Fourth Order whilst Nortah took evident delight in electing for the Second. “The Order of Contemplation and Enlightenment,” Sollis said tonelessly. “You want to spend a week in the Order of Contemplation and Enlightenment?”

“I feel my soul would benefit from a period of meditation on the great mysteries, master,” Nortah replied, showing his perfect teeth in an earnest smile. For the first time in months Vaelin felt like laughing.

“You mean you want a week of sitting on your arse,” Sollis said.

“Meditation is normally conducted in a sitting position, master.”

Vaelin laughed, he couldn’t help it. Three hours later, as he completed his fortieth lap of the practice ground, he was still chuckling.

“Brother Vaelin?” The grey cloaked man at the gate was old, thin and bald, but Vaelin found himself disconcerted by the man’s teeth, pearly white and perfect, like Nortah’s only the smile was genuine. The old brother was alone, wiping a mop across a dark brown stain on the cobbled courtyard.

“I am to report to the Aspect,” Vaelin replied.

“Yes, we were told you were coming.” The old brother lifted the catch on the gate and pulled it open. “Rare for a brother from the Sixth to come to learn from us.”

“Are you alone, brother?” Vaelin said, stepping through the gate. “I assume in a place such as this there is sore need for a guard,”

Unlike the Sixth, the house of the Fifth Order was situated within the walls of the capital, a large, cruciform building rising from the slums of the southern quarter, its whitewashed walls a bright beacon amidst the drab mass of closely packed, poorly built houses hugging the fringes of the docks. Vaelin had never been to the southern quarter before but quickly came to understand why it was rarely frequented by people with something worth stealing. The intricate network of shadowed alley ways and refuse clogged streets provided ample opportunities for ambush. He had picked his way through the mess, not wishing to report to the Fifth Order with dirty boots, stepping over huddled forms sleeping off the previous night’s grog and ignoring the unintelligible calls of those who had either had too much or not enough. Here and there a few listless whores gave him a disinterested glance but made no effort to entice his custom, Order boys had no money after all.

“Oh we never get bothered,” the old man told him. As he closed the gate Vaelin noted there was no lock. “Been guarding this house for ten years or more, never a problem here.”

“Then why do you have to guard the gate?”

The old brother gave him a puzzled look. “This is the Order of Healing, brother. People come here for help. Someone has to meet them.”

“Oh,” Vaelin said. “Of course.”

“Still I do have my old Bess.” The old brother went into the small brick building that served as a guard house and returned with a large oak-wood club. “Just in case.” He handed it to Vaelin, seemingly expecting an expert opinion.

“It’s…” Vaelin hefted the club, swinging it briefly before handing it back, “a fine weapon brother.”

The old man seemed delighted. “Made it meself when the Aspect gave me the gate to guard. My hands had gotten too stiff to mend bones or sew cuts, y’see?” He turned and walked quickly towards the House. “Come, come, I’ll take you to the Aspect.”

“You’ve been here a long time?” Vaelin asked, following.