“And yet you seem to know the tale well.”
“You know me, brother.” Caenis smiled faintly. “I was always fond of stories. The more fanciful the better.”
“You believe it, don’t you?” A sudden insight came to Vaelin then, a realisation spawned by the faintness of Caenis’s smile and the immediacy with which he had told his tale. “You already knew. You knew this Seventh Order were behind this.”
“I suspected. There are tales, little more than fables, that claim the Seventh Order was never truly destroyed, that it survived, thrived in secret, awaiting its time to return and claim the ascendancy it sought so long ago.”
“We will go to Master Sollis and the Aspect, they must hear of this.”
“They already have, brother. I told them all I suspected as soon as I returned to the Order. I formed the impression I was telling them nothing they didn’t already know.”
Vaelin remembered Master Sollis’s reaction to Sister Henna’s words and Aspect Elera’s refusal to discuss it. They know, he realised. They all know. A secret kept by the Aspects for centuries. Once there were seven. And the Seventh waits, it plots. They know.
His limbs began to ache with a sudden chill although it was a bright, sunlit day. “Thank you for sharing your knowledge with me brother,” he said, crossing his arms and hugging himself for warmth.
“I always will Vaelin,” Caenis replied. “You know there are no secrets between us.”
The Test of the Horse came two months later, a mile long course through woods and rough country followed by three arrows loosed from the saddle into the centre of three targets. Surprising no-one, Nortah excelled in the Test, setting a new record in the process. The others all fared well, even Barkus whose riding was scarcely better than Vaelin. He struggled from the start, Spit was his usual fractious self and would only stir to a gallop after a tirade of heart-felt threats. They laboured over the course in the slowest time of the day and Vaelin’s archery from the saddle was barely adequate, but at least he had passed. For once no other brothers failed the Test and the evening meal became a raucous celebration complete with smuggled beer and much throwing of food. They were punished the next morning with a freezing swim in the river and five laps of the practice field at full pelt stark naked. No-one thought it hadn’t been worth it.
Over the next few weeks there were more tales of riots and discord beyond the walls. Deniers, real or suspected, were being set upon by angry mobs, hundreds had died and the Realm Guard was hard pressed to keep order. Eventually, as summer slipped into autumn, the Realm calmed. Contrary to the expectations of many there were no more assassinations, no hidden army of Cumbraelins beneath the streets, in fact the heretical fief was calmer than it had been for over a decade. The Summer of Fire, as it became known, faded into memory leaving only corpses, grief and ash in its wake.
The two prospective Aspects were led into the chamber, a woman in her early thirties and a sharp-faced man Vaelin had seen before. The woman was introduced as Mistress Liesa Ilnien of the Second Order, a plain and serene figure in a dun coloured robe who met the combined gaze of the chamber’s occupants with calm acceptance. The black-robed Tendris Al Forne of the Fourth Order was a contrast, staring back at his audience with a fierceness that could almost be defiance, the odd cheerfulness Vaelin had seen in him three years ago had disappeared but the fanaticism remained. He scanned the assembly with a narrow gaze, pausing when he saw Vaelin to offer a small nod.
Together with Caenis, he had been chosen to accompany Aspect Arlyn to the proceedings, ostensibly as guards, the Order House being short on confirmed brothers as continuing discord in the Realm had called most of them away. But Vaelin suspected the Aspect also wanted them to learn something of how the different Orders governed the Faith.
The Conclave convened in the debating hall of the House of the Third Order, a cavernous chamber of vaulted ceilings and long benches. In addition to the Aspects, many of the senior masters of each Order were also present and allowed a voice in the discussion. Caenis and Vaelin, however, had been left with no illusions as to the value of their own opinions.
“I never dreamed I would be allowed to come here, brother,” Caenis enthused in a whisper, almost shaking with excitement as they took their seats behind Aspect Arlyn. “Present at the choosing of two new Aspects. A privilege indeed.”
Vaelin noted he had brought along a good supply of parchment and a stub of charcoal. “Started the Tale of Brother Caenis, already?”
“Actually, I was going to call it The Book of Five Brothers.”
“It’s six, counting Frentis.”
“Oh, he’ll get a page or two, don’t worry.”
Aspect Silla Colvis of the First Order was present along with twenty or so of his white-robed masters. They were all men in their sixties or older, their deeply lined faces apparently lost in contemplation, either that or they were asleep. Aspect Elera was accompanied by only three brothers and two sisters, Vaelin’s heart sinking when he saw that Sherin was not amongst them.
Aspect Dendrish Hendrahl’s brush with death had clearly left its mark, his skin now a pallid grey contrasting with its previous porcine pinkness, his eyes sunken into the fleshy mass of his face like two stones pushed into soft dough. He had brought more masters than the other Aspects, over thirty, mostly men sharing a singular characteristic in that they seemed to be smelling the same foul odour. There was only the barest flicker of recognition when he caught sight of Caenis and no offer of a greeting to the young man who had saved his life. If anything Vaelin sensed a resentment in the Aspect’s demeanour. It must have hurt almost as much as the poison, he surmised, to be saved by one of us.
“These two come before us for recognition,” Aspect Silla told the assembled representatives of the Orders. “The Faith requires we meet to consider the merits of their appointment. We will hear questions now.”
Aspect Dendrish was first to raise his hand, addressing his question to Liesa Ilnien. “The lamented Aspect you wish to replace,” he began before pausing to cough loudly into a lace handkerchief, “…served as Aspect of the Second Order for over twenty years. Do you think you can offer the same level of experience?”
The woman responded without pause, the words flowing easily from her lips in precise, even tones. “An Aspect does not require experience. An Aspect is a brother or sister who best embodies the values of their Order.”
“And you presume to judge yourself the embodiment of your Order’s values?” the Aspect demanded, reddening a little, although Vaelin sensed his anger was somewhat forced.
“I presume to judge myself in all things,” Mistress Liesa Ilnien replied. “The Faith teaches us to be our own judge, for who knows one’s heart better than oneself?”
“Mistress Liesa,” Aspect Elera said before Hendrahl could respond. “Have you journeyed far in this Realm?”
“I have visited all four Fiefs and I spent a year on mission to the Northern Reaches, trying to bring the Faith to the horse tribes of the great plains.”
“A noble endeavour. Did you have any success?”
“Sadly the horse folk tend to shun outsiders and cling to their delusions. If I am blessed by ascension to Aspect it is my hope to send more missions north. The Faith is a blessing that must be shared beyond our borders.”
“Such concern for the outside world,” Aspect Silla said, “would seem to contradict the values of your Order. Ever has it been the bastion of contemplation and meditation, sheltered from the many storms of our land. Would such work not suffer if you were to concern yourselves more with the harshness of the physical world?”
“In order to contemplate one must have something to contemplate. A life without experience provides no chance of contemplation. Those who have not lived cannot meditate on the mysteries of life.”
Vaelin was impressed by the woman’s logic but could sense the agitation of the assembled masters, a subdued rumble of conversation filling the benches. Next to him Caenis was busy scribbling.
Aspect Arlyn raised a hand and the murmuring of the crowd stopped immediately. “Mistress Liesa, why do you think your Aspect was murdered?”
The Mistress bowed her head for a moment, a momentary sadness passing over her face. “There are those who wish to harm our Faith,” she said, raising her head to meet Aspect Arlyn’s eye, her measured tone faltering slightly. “Who they are or why they would do this is something I cannot imagine.”
Next to her Brother Tendris Al Forne spoke for the first time. “If our sister cannot imagine who would strike against us, perhaps I can.”
“You have not yet been questioned,” Aspect Silla pointed out.
“Show some respect for this occasion, young man,” Aspect Dendrish said, wheezing a little. Vaelin noted there were spots of blood on his handkerchief.
“I offer no disrespect,” Al Forne replied. “Only truth, a truth some of us seem afraid to speak.”
“And what truth is this?” Aspect Elera asked.
Al Forne paused to take a deep breath as if gathering strength. Next to Vaelin Caenis’s charcoal stub was poised over his parchment in anticipation. “We have been complacent,” Al Forne said eventually. “We have allowed ourselves to become weak. The Sixth Order once fought only against the enemies of the Faith, now they police the frontiers of this Realm at the beck and call of the Crown and Denier sects gather in force without challenge.
