Raven's Shadow 01 - Blood Song

The months with Frentis passed quickly, his energy and blind enthusiasm making them forget their woes, even Nortah seemed enlivened by his time with the boy, taking on the task of showing him the bow. As with his tutelage of Dentos before the Test of Knowledge Vaelin noted once again Nortah’s facility for teaching, where the other boys would occasionally make their frustration with Frentis obvious, particularly Barkus, Nortah seemed to possess an abundance of patience.

 

“Good,” he said as Frentis managed to get his shaft within a yard of the target. “Try pushing the stave at the same time as you pull the string, the bow will bend easier.”

 

It was thanks to Nortah that Frentis was able to begin his training as the only boy to hit the target during his first formal practice.

 

“Can’t I stay with you lot?” Frentis had asked the night before he was due to move to the room he would share with his group.

 

“You must be in a group,” Vaelin said. They were in the kennels, watching Scratch as he stood guard over his heavily pregnant bitch. No one else was allowed near his pen now, his mate’s condition making him violently protective, even Master Jeklin was likely to provoke an attack if he came too close.

 

“Why?” Frentis said, the whine in his voice had abated somewhat but was still noticeable.

 

“Because we cannot be with you throughout your training,” Vaelin told him. “You will find brothers amongst the boys you meet tomorrow. Together you will help each other face the tests. It is how things are done in the Order.”

 

“What if they don’t like me?”

 

“Like and dislike mean little here. The bond that binds us is beyond friendship.” He gave Frentis a nudge. “Don’t worry. You already know more than them, they will look to you for guidance, just don’t be too cocky about it.”

 

“Are you and the others still gonna teach me?”

 

Vaelin shook his head. “You will be under Master Haunlin’s care. He will teach you now. We cannot interfere. He is a fair man, sparing with the cane as long as you don’t push him. Mind him well.”

 

“Will I be allowed to steal for you, still?”

 

This was something Vaelin hadn’t considered. Frentis’s effortless ability to procure items of considerable value would be sorely missed. They were now rich in extra clothing, money, talismans, knives and myriad other sundries that made Order life a little more comfortable. True to his word, he had never been caught although the other boys had been quick to connect Frentis’s arrival with the upsurge in missing valuables leading to a particularly bloody fight in the dining hall one night. Luckily they now possessed both the skill and the strength to defend themselves, even from the older boys, and the incident hadn’t been repeated although Master Sollis had told Vaelin to make Frentis lay off for a while.

 

“You’ll have to steal for your own group now,” Vaelin told him, not without regret. “But you can trade with us.”

 

“Thought I wouldn’t be allowed to talk to you now.”

 

“We can still talk. Let’s say we meet here every Eltrian eve.”

 

“Will Master Jeklin let me have one of the puppies?”

 

Vaelin looked at Scratch, noting the wary hostility of his gaze and the tension in his stance, knowing even he would earn a bite or two if he attempted to enter the pen. “I don’t think it’s up to Master Jeklin.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2

 

 

The Test of the Melee came after the Winterfall feast mid-way through the month of Weslin. Their swords were exchanged for wooden blades and they were divided, along with the fifty or so other boys of their age, into two equal contingents. On the practice field a lance adorned with red pennant had been thrust into the frost-hard earth. Vaelin was surprised to see the other Masters standing on the fringes of the field, even Master Jestin who was rarely seen outside his forge.

 

“War is our sacred charge,” the Aspect told them when they had been arrayed before him. “It is the reason for the Order’s existence. We fight in defence of the Faith and the Realm. Today you will fight a battle. One contingent will seek to capture that pennant, another will defend it. Masters will observe the battle. Any Brother failing to show sufficient courage and skill in battle will be required to leave on the morrow. Fight well, remember your lessons. Killing blows are not permitted.”

 

As the Aspect walked from the field the two contingents eyed each other with mingled trepidation and excitement. They all knew what this meant, no killing blows and wooden swords or not this would be a bloody day.

 

Master Sollis came forward and handed Vaelin’s contingent a number of red ribbons and told them to tie them to their left arm. Nearby Master Haunlin was handing out white ribbons to their nominal enemies. “You will attack, the whites will defend,” Sollis told them. “The battle is over when one of you gets his hands on the lance.”

 

As their white ribboned enemies trooped off to arrange themselves in a loose line in front of the lance Vaelin saw the Aspect greeting three unfamiliar onlookers. There were two men, one large and broad the other lean and wiry with long black hair trailing in the wind. The third figure was small, muffled in furs, and clung to the side of the large man.