“Yes.” She faced him with the smallest of smiles. Although he fought it, Vaelin found himself taking note of her form. She was slender, the dark curls of her hair tied back, her face displaying a youthful prettiness but her eyes somehow bespoke a wealth of experience well beyond her years. Her lips formed the words with precision, “The laundry.”
He was discomfited by her, preoccupied with the curve of her cheekbones and the shape of her lips, the brightness of her eyes, relishing confrontation. He quickly gathered the clothes and went to find the laundry. He was relieved to find he wasn’t required to wash the clothes himself and, after Sister Sherin’s cool reception, somewhat taken aback by the welcome he received from the brothers and sisters in the steam filled laundry room.
“Brother Vaelin!” boomed a large bear-like man, his hair covered chest beaded with sweat. His hand felt like a hammer on Vaelin’s back. “I’ve waited ten years for a brother from the Sixth to come through our doors and when we finally get one it’s their most famous son.”
“I am pleased to be here brother,” Vaelin assured him. “I have to clean these clothes…”
“Oh tosh.” The clothes were torn from his grasp and tossed into one of the large stone baths where the laundry workers laboured. “We’ll do that. Come and meet everyone.”
The big man turned out to be a master, not a brother. His name was Harin and when he wasn’t taking his turn in the laundry he taught the novices the finer points of bones. “Bones, master?”
“Yes, m’boy. Bones. How they work, how they fit together. How to mend them. I’ve snapped more arms back into sockets than I can remember. It’s all in the wrist. I’ll teach you before you leave, if I don’t break your arm first.” He laughed, the sound easily filling the cavernous chamber.
The rest of the brothers and sisters gathered round to greet Vaelin and he found himself assailed with numerous names and faces, all of whom displayed a disconcerting enthusiasm for his presence, as well a plethora of questions.
“Tell us, brother,” one brother said, a thin man named Curlis, “is it true your swords are made from star silver?”
“A myth, brother,” Vaelin told him remembering to keep Master Jestin’s secret. “Our swords are finely made, but of plain steel only.”
“Do you they really make you live in the wilds?” a young sister asked, a plump girl called Henna.
“Only for ten days. It’s one of our tests.”
“They make you leave if you fail, don’t they?”
“If you live that long.” It was Sister Sherin, standing in the doorway, arms crossed. “That’s right isn’t brother? Many of your brothers die in the tests? Boys as young as eleven years old.”
“A hard life requires hard training,” Vaelin replied. “Our tests prepare us for our role in defending the Faith and the Realm.”
She raised an eyebrow. “If Master Harin doesn’t need to prolong your presence here the teaching room needs mopping.”
And so he mopped the teaching room. He also mopped all the rooms in the west wing. When he was done she had him boil a mixture of pure spirit and water and soak the metal implements the Aspect had used to treat the young man’s wound. She told him it eradicated infection. The rest of the day was spent in similar endeavours, cleaning, mopping, scrubbing. His hands were tough but he soon found them chaffing with the work, the flesh red from soap and scrubbing by the time Sister Sherin told him he could go and eat.
“When do I learn how to heal?” he asked. She was in the teaching room, laying out a variety of instruments on a white cloth. He had spent two hours cleaning them and they shone brightly in the light from the overhead window.
“You don’t,” she replied, not looking up. “You get to work. If I think you won’t get in the way I’ll let you watch when I tend to someone.”
A variety of responses flickered through his mind, some caustic, some clever, but all certain to make him sound like a petulant child. “As you wish, sister. What hour do you require me?”
“We start at the fifth hour here.” She gave a conspicuous sniff. “Before reporting for work you are expected to wash thoroughly, which should help diminish your rather pungent aroma. Don’t they wash in the Sixth Order?”
“Every three days we swim in the river. It’s very cold, even in summer.”
She said nothing, placing a strange looking implement on the cloth: two parallel blades fastened by a screw device.
“What is that?” he asked.
“Rib spreader. It allows access to the heart.”
“The heart?”
“Sometimes the beat of a heart will stop and can be recommenced by gentle massage.”
He looked at her hands, slim fingers moving with measured precision. “You can do this?”
She shook her head. “I’ve yet to learn such skills. The Aspect can though, she can do most things.”
“She’ll teach you one day.”
She glanced up at him, her expression wary. “You should eat, brother.”
“You’re not eating?”
“I take my meals later than the others. I have more work to do here.”
“Then I’ll stay. We can eat together.”
She barely paused in scrubbing at a steel basin. “I prefer to eat alone, thank you.”