lasted. It could have been an hour or a few minutes. It was like waking from a particularly draining nightmare. He was relieved to see Barkus and Dentos were among the ten boys still left standing, although Dentos could only remain upright by virtue of Barkus’s meaty hand on his neck. “What’s that, brother?” he said loudly for the benefit of the masters, leaning close as if to listen to Dentos’s words although speech seemed to be beyond him at present. “Yes! A fine fight indeed!”
“ The Test is concluded!” Master Sollis was striding across the field. “Help the wounded to the infirmary. Leave the senseless ones lying, the masters will see to them.”
“ Come on,” Vaelin told Nortah. “Let’s get you patched up.”
“ I’d like that,” Nortah said. “But I’m not too sure I can walk.” He swayed again and Vaelin had to catch him. Together he and Caenis helped him from the field, still clinging to the lance. Barkus followed with Dentos dangling in his arms, feet dragging on the earth.
“ Brother Vaelin,” it was the Aspect, standing alongside the three strangers.
Vaelin halted, struggling to keep Nortah from falling. “Aspect.”
“ Our guests have requested to meet you.” The Aspect gestured at the three strangers. Vaelin could see the smallest figure clearly now, a girl, wrapped in black furs like the large man to whose arm she clung. She was about his own age but small, pale skin and black hair… and very pretty. She barely seemed to notice him, her eyes staying fixed on Nortah’s barely conscious form. He wasn’t sure if her expression was one of admiration or fear.
“ Brother Vaelin, this is Vanos Al Myrna,” the Aspect said. The large man came forward and offered his hand. Vaelin shook it awkwardly, narrowly avoiding letting Nortah fall over. Caenis stiffened at the mention of the large man’s name but it meant little to Vaelin. He had a dim memory of his father mentioning it to his mother, it was not long before he had been made Battle Lord but Vaelin couldn’t recall what the discussion was about.
“ I knew your father,” Vanos Al Myrna told Vaelin.
“ I have no father,” Vaelin replied automatically.
“ Show Lord Vanos some respect, Vaelin,” the Aspect said, a thin smile on his lips. “He is a Sword of the Realm and Tower Lord of the Northern Reaches. He honours us with his presence.”
Vaelin saw the ghost of a smile play on Vanos Al Myrna’s lips. “You fought well,” he said.
Vaelin nodded at Nortah. “My brother fought better, he got the lance.”
Al Myrna studied Nortah for a second and Vaelin realised he had known his father too. “This boy fights without fear. Not always a desirable trait in a soldier.”
“ We are all fearless in service of the Faith, my lord.” That was a good answer, he decided. I wish it wasn’t a lie.
The Tower Lord turned and gestured at the wiry, long haired man. He had similar colouring to the girl, pale skin and dark hair, but his face was different, high cheek bones and a hawk nose. “This is my friend Hera Drakil of the Seordah Sil.”
Seordah. Vaelin had never thought to see a Seordah with his own eyes. They were a truly mysterious people who, it was said, never ventured from the shelter of the great northern forest and shunned outsiders. It was the Seordah Sil that made the forest a place of dark mystery for Realm folk who rarely attempted to walk beneath its trees. Stories abounded of hapless travellers who had gone into the forest and never returned.
Hera Drakil nodded at Vaelin, his expression unreadable.
“ And this,” Lord Vanos pulled the girl at his side forward a little, provoking a rueful smile, “is my daughter Dahrena.”
She turned her smile on Vaelin who wondered why his palms were suddenly sweating. “Brother. You appear to be the only one uninjured.”
Vaelin realised she was right, he ached all over, and would no doubt ache worse in the morning, but he didn’t have a cut. “Luck smiles on me, my lady.”
She looked at Nortah again, her expression concerned. “Will he be all right?”
“ He’s fine,” Caenis said, his tone sounding a little curt to Vaelin.
Nortah’s head came up and he gazed blearily at the girl, frowning in confusion. “You’re Lonak,” he said, his head swivelling towards Vaelin. “Are we in the north?”
“ Easy brother.” Vaelin patted him on the shoulder and was relieved when Nortah’s head slumped forward again. “My brother is not himself,” he told the girl. “My apologies.”
“ For what? I am Lonak.” She turned to the Aspect. “I have some small healing skill. If I can be of any assistance…”
“ We have a very capable physician, my lady,” the Aspect replied. “But I thank you for your concern. Now, we must repair to my chambers and allow these brothers to see to their comrades.”
He turned and made for the Keep followed by the Tower Lord but the others lingered a moment. Hera Drakil gave them all a long look, his eyes moving from Dentos slumped in Barkus’s arms to Caenis’s blood smeared nose and Nortah’s sagging form, his unreadable expression turning into recognisable disgust. “ Il Lonakhim hearin mar durolin,” he said sadly and walked away.
The girl, Dahrena, seemed embarrassed by the words and gave them a brief glance of farewell before turning to follow.
“ What did he say?” Vaelin asked, making her pause.
She hesitated and he wondered if she would plead ignorance of the Seordah language but he knew she had understood the words. “He said ‘The Lonak treat their dogs better.’”
“ And do they?”
Her mouth tightened a little and he saw a frown of anger before she turned away. “I expect so.”
Nortah’s head lolled back and he grinned at Vaelin. “She’s pretty,” he said before finally passing out.
“ So how does the Tower Lord of the Northern Reaches come to have a Lonak for a daughter?” Vaelin asked Caenis.
They were walking the wall, the post-midnight shift, one of the drawbacks of achieving four years in the Order was a regular stint at guard duty. The wall was sparsely manned tonight with so many boys in the infirmary or too badly injured to take their turn, Barkus among them. He had waited until they were back in their room before revealing a deep cut across his back.
“ I think someone put a nail through their sword,” he groaned.
They put Nortah in bed and cleaned him up as best they could. Luckily his cuts didn’t seem serious enough to warrant stitches and they decided the best course of action was to bandage his head and leave him to sleep it off. Dentos was worse off, his nose seemingly broken again and he kept slipping in and out of consciousness. Vaelin decided he should go to the infirmary along with Barkus whose wound was beyond their skill to stitch. Dentos was put to bed by a harassed Master Henthal and Barkus allowed to go after his cut had been stitched and smeared with corr tree oil, a foul smelling but effective guard against infection. They had left him watching over Nortah to take their turn on the wall.
“ Vanos Al Myrna,” Caenis said, “is not a man to be easily understood. But disloyalty is ever a difficult thing to fathom.”
“ Disloyalty?”
“ He was banished to the Northern Reaches twelve years ago. No one knows why for sure but it is said he questioned the King’s word. He was Battle Lord then and King Janus may be kindly and just but he could not tolerate disloyalty from one so high in his court.”
“ And yet here he is.”
Caenis shrugged. “The King’s forgiveness is famed. And there have been rumours of a great battle in the north, beyond the forest and the plains. Al Myrna supposedly defeated an army of barbarians who came across the ice. I must confess I gave it little credence but perhaps he is here to report to the King on the victory.”
He was Battle Lord before my father, Vaelin realised. He remembered now although he had been very young. His father came home and told his mother he would be Battle Lord. She had gone to her room and cried.
“ And his daughter?” he asked, trying to dispel the memory.
“ A Lonak foundling so they say. He came upon her lost in the forest. Apparently the Seordah allow him to travel there.”
“ They must hold him in high esteem.”
Caenis sniffed. “The regard of savages means little, brother.”
“ The Seordah with Al Myrna seemed to have little regard for our ways. Perhaps to him we’re the
