The boys from Frentis’s group came asking questions but Vaelin followed Master Sollis’s instructions and told them he had been attacked by a mountain lion during his Test of the Wild. He was recovering in the House of the Fifth Order and would return within a few days. Sollis himself said nothing about his investigations on return to the Order and the Aspect did not request their presence. Frentis’s abduction was another non-event in the Order’s history. The Order fights, but often it fights in shadow. As he grew older Vaelin found ever more truth in Master Sollis’s words.
Frentis himself said nothing of the incident on his return, resuming his training with a disturbing vigour, as if rejecting the damage One Eye had done to him by ignoring the pain his exertions cost him. His demeanour had changed also, he was less apt to smile and where he had been talkative before now he was largely silent. His temper too had grown shorter and the masters had to drag him out of several fights. Even the other boys in his group seemed wary of him. Only with Scratch and Vaelin did he regain some vestige of his old self, taking an energetic part in training the now grown pups. However, even then he continued to say nothing of his ordeal, although Vaelin sometimes caught him running his fingers over the pattern of scars carved into his skin, his face oddly thoughtful as if trying to decipher their meaning.
“Do they hurt?” Vaelin asked him one Eltrian evening. The pups were tired from a day spent tracking with Master Hutril and could only snap lazily at the treats they tossed into their pens.
Frentis quickly pulled his hand away from his shirt. “A little. Less and less as the weeks pass. Aspect Elera gave me a balm for ‘em, helps a bit.”
“It was my fault…”
“Forget it.”
“If I had told the Aspect…”
“I said forget it!” Frentis's face was tense as he stared into the pens. Slasher, his favourite pup, sensed his mood and came over to lick at his hand, whining in concern. “He's dead,” Frentis said, calmer now. “And I’m not. So forget it. Can’t kill him twice.”
They walked back to the keep together, cloaks wrapped against the chill although winter was fading fast and the surrounding trees were quickly taking on the verdant hues of spring.
“Test of the Sword next month,” Frentis said. “Worried?”
“Why? Do you think I should be?”
“I’ve already bet my whole knife collection that you finish all three in less than two minutes. I meant what happens after. They’ll send you away, right?”
“I expect so.”
“Think they’ll let us serve together when I’m confirmed? I’d like that.”
“So would I. But I don’t think we get a choice. It’ll be a good while before we see one another again, that’s for sure.”
They lingered at the courtyard, Vaelin sensing Frentis had more to say. “I…” he began then stopped, fidgeting uncomfortably. “I’m glad you spoke for me, when I came here,” he said after a moment. “I’m glad I’m in the Order. I feel like I was meant to be here. So you shouldn’t feel bad about anything that happens to me, right? Whatever happens from now on, you don’t have to feel bad and you don’t have to come running when I’m in trouble.”
“Wouldn’t you come running if I was in trouble?”
“That’s different.”
“No, it’s exactly the same.” He clapped Frentis on the shoulder. “Get some rest, brother.”
He had taken a few steps when Frentis said something to make him stop, his voice barely above a whisper, “The one who waits will destroy us.”
He turned to find Frentis hunched in his cloak, arms folded tightly against his chest, face wary. He wouldn’t meet Vaelin’s eye.
“What?” Vaelin asked.
“He told me.” Frentis winced, as if pained and Vaelin knew he was reliving his torture at One Eye’s hands. “He got angry when I wouldn’t tell him what he wanted to know. Kept asking about the Tests, the skills we’re taught here. Seemed to think we get taught how to practice the Dark. Stupid bastard. Wasn’t going to tell him anything though. So he cut me some more, then he said, ‘The one who waits will destroy your precious Order, boy.’”
The one who waits... “Did he tell you want it meant?”
“I passed out when he started cutting me again. He’d only just managed to bring me round when you turned up.”
“Did you tell the Aspect of this?”
Frentis shook his head. “Dunno why. Just felt that I shouldn’t tell no one except you.”
Vaelin felt a chill that had nothing to do with the deepening cold. For a moment he was back in the forest during the Test of the Run, listening to the men who had killed Mikehl as they debated the identity of their victim. The other one… You heard what the other one said. Gave me the shivers he did.
“Don’t tell anyone else,” Vaelin said. “One Eye told you nothing.” He watched Frentis shiver in his cloak and forced a smile. “The man was a loon. His words mean nothing. But it’s best we keep this between us. Telling our brothers would only cause foolish talk.”
He watched Frentis nod and walk away, still clutching himself beneath his cloak, his fingers no doubt playing over his scars. Will he dream tonight? Vaelin thought and felt a pang of mingled guilt and regret. Why couldn’t it have been me who killed One Eye?
Chapter 9
The morning of the Test of the Sword brought a hard rain that turned the earth to mud and did little to lighten their spirits. The Test was held in an arena on the outskirts of the city, an ancient structure of finely shaped granite, worn with age and weathered by the elements. It was known only as the Circle and Vaelin had never met anyone who could tell him when or why it had been built. Looking at it now he realised there were similarities with the temple to the seven orders they had found beneath the city, the way the supporting columns curved up to the tiers above echoed the elegance of the underground structure. Here and there he glimpsed adornments in the stonework, carvings of faded intricacy that recalled the better preserved motifs of the temple. He drew Caenis’s attention to them as Master Sollis led them into the shade beneath the columns but received only a grunt in response. Today even Caenis was too preoccupied to indulge in curiosity.
Vaelin could see the fear and uncertainty on his brothers’ faces but found he was unable mirror it. The emotions that made Dentos vomit his breakfast and Nortah white-faced and closed-lipped were something he simply didn’t feel. He was unafraid and he didn’t understand why. Today he would face three men in armed combat. He would kill them or they would kill him. The prospect of death should have chilled him to the core. Perhaps it was the very simplicity of the situation that robbed him of his fear. There were no questions here, no mysteries, no secrets. He would live or he would die. But despite his inability to fear the ordeal something still nagged at him, a small, insistent voice at the very edge of his thoughts, whispering words he didn’t want to hear: Perhaps you don’t fear the Test because you relish it.
Unwillingly, he recalled the Test of Knowledge, the awful truth the Aspects had forced from him. I can kill. I can kill without hesitating. I was meant to be a warrior. Images of the men he had killed came back to him in a rush: the archer in the forest, the faceless assassins in the House of the Fifth Order, the one eyed man’s hireling. It was true he had felt no hesitation in killing any of them, but had he truly relished it?
“You’ll wait in here.” Master Sollis led them into a chamber set back from the main entrance. The walls were thick but they could hear the baying of the crowd in the Circle. The Test of the Sword was an ever popular event in the city but only those with sufficient coin could purchase a ticket and typically it was the Realm’s wealthier citizens who came to watch the three day spectacle, often wagering huge sums on the outcome of each contest. The profits from the day would be donated to the Fifth Order to care for the sick. Vaelin couldn’t help but smile at the irony of it.
“What’s so funny?” Nortah demanded.
Vaelin shook his head and sat down on a stone bench to wait. There were twenty brothers in Vaelin’s group today. The fifty other survivors of the three hundred who had started their training together as boys of ten or eleven had undergone their Tests over the preceding two days. So far ten had been killed and another eight so badly maimed they could no longer serve the Order. Many others had serious cuts requiring weeks of healing. The parade of wounded and shocked brothers trooping through the gates over the past two days had added considerable weight to the burden of fear most of them now carried. Of all of them, only Vaelin and Barkus seemed unaffected.
“Sugar cane?” he offered Vaelin, taking the place next to his.
“Thank you brother.” The cane was fresh and its sweetness tinged with a slight acidity, but still the sensation was a welcome distraction from the grim mood of the others.
“Wonder who’ll be first,” Barkus said after a moment. “Wonder how they choose.”
“We draw lots,” Master Sollis told them from the doorway. “Nysa. You’re first. Let’s go.”
