“I wasn’t asking you, Sendahl,” Sollis snapped. “Get back to the hall. You as well Jeshua.”
Barkus and Nortah left quickly after giving Vaelin a puzzled glance. It was unusual for the masters to take a close interest in disagreements between the boys. Boys were boys after all, and boys would fight.
“Well?” Sollis said when they had gone.
Vaelin had a momentary impulse to lie but the hard fury in Master Sollis’s gaze told him it would be a very bad idea. “It’s the test, Master. Caenis is sure to pass, Dentos isn’t.”
“So, what are you going to do about it?”
“Me, Master?”
“We all have different roles to play in the Order. Most of us fight, some track heretics across the kingdom, others slip into the shadows to do their work in secret, a few will teach, and a few, a very few, lead.”
“You… want me to lead?”
“The Aspect seems to think it’s your role, and he is rarely mistaken.” He glanced over his shoulder at Master Henthal’s room. “Leadership is not learned by watching your brothers beat each other bloody. Nor is it learned by letting them fail their tests. Fix this.”
He turned and left without another word. Vaelin rested his head against the stone wall and sighed heavily. Leadership. Don’t I have burdens enough?
“You lot are getting meaner by the year,” Master Henthal told him brightly as he entered. “Time was boys in their third year could only manage to bruise each other. Clearly we’re teaching you too well.”
“We are grateful for your wisdom, Master,” Vaelin assured him. “May I speak with my brothers?”
“As you wish.” He pressed a ball of cotton to Dentos's nose. “Hold that until the bleeding stops. Don’t swallow the blood, keep spitting it out. And use a bowl, get any on my floor and you’ll wish your brother had killed you.” He left them alone in strained silence.
“How is it?” Vaelin asked Dentos.
Dentos could speak only in a wet rasp, “Id bokken.”
Vaelin turned to Caenis, cradling his bandaged hand. “And you?”
Caenis glanced down at his bandaged fingers. “Master Henthal popped it back into place. Said it’ll be sore for a while. Won’t be able to hold a sword for about a week.” He paused, hawking and spitting a thick wad of blood into a bowl next to his bunk. “Had to pull what was left of my tooth. Packed it with cotton and gave me redflower for the pain.”
“Does it work?”
Caenis winced a little. “Not really.”
“Good. You deserve it.”
Caenis face flashed with anger. “You heard what he said…”
“I heard what he said. I heard what you said before that. You know he’s having trouble with this but you decide to give him a lecture.” He turned to Dentos. “And you should know better than to provoke him. We get enough chances to hurt each other on the practice field. Do it there if you have to.”
“’E pisshes me od,” Dentos sputtered. “Bein’ shmart alla time.”
“Then maybe you should learn from him. He has knowledge, you need it, who better to ask?” He sat down next to Dentos. “You know if you don’t pass this test you’ll have to leave. Is that what you want? Go back to Nilsael and help your uncle fight his dogs and tell all the drunkards in the tavern how you nearly got to be in the Sixth Order? I bet they’ll be impressed.”
“Shod off Vaelin.” Dentos leaned over to let a large glob of blood fall from his nose into the bowl at his feet.
“You both know I didn’t have to stay here,” Vaelin said. “Do you know why I did?”
“You hate your father,” Caenis said, forgetting the usual convention.
Vaelin, unaware his feelings were so obvious, bit back a retort. “I couldn’t just leave. I couldn’t go and live outside the Order always waiting to hear one day about what happened to the rest of you, wondering maybe if I’d been there it wouldn’t have happened. We lost Mikehl, we lost Jennis. We can’t lose anyone else.” He got up and moved to the door. “We’re not boys any more. I can’t make you do anything. It’s up to you.”
“I’m sorry,” Caenis said, stopping him. “What I said about your father.”
“I don’t have a father,” Vaelin reminded him.
Caenis laughed, blood seeping thick and fast from his lip. “No, neither do I.” He turned and threw his bloodied cloth at Dentos. “How about you, Brother? Got a father?”
Dentos laughed, long and hard, his face streaked with crimson. “Wouldn’t know the bugger if he gave me a pound of gold!”