He stopped a sigh of exasperation before it escaped his mouth. “As you wish.”
There were more questions at mealtime, more intense curiosity almost making him wish for Sister Sherin’s disinterest. The masters of the Fifth Order ate with their students so he sat with Master Harin amongst a group of novice brothers and sisters. He was surprised by the variety in the ages of the novices at the table, the youngest little more than fourteen whilst the oldest clearly in his fifties.
“People often come to our Order later in life,” Master Harin explained. “I didn’t join until my thirty-second year. Was in the Realm Guard before then, Thirtieth Regiment of Foot, the Bloody Boars. You've heard of them no doubt.”
“Their renown does them credit, master, ” Vaelin lied, never having heard of such a regiment. “How long has Sister Sherin been here?”
“Been here since an infant that one, worked in the kitchens. Didn’t start training till she turned fourteen though. That’s the youngest we’ll allow novices to join. Not like your Order, eh?”
“It’s but one of many differences, master.”
Harin laughed heartily and took a large bite from a chicken leg. Food in the Fifth Order was much the same as the Sixth, but there was less of it. He experienced a moment’s embarrassment when he began wolfing down large helpings with habitual haste, drawing bemused glances from the others at the table. “Have to eat quickly in the Sixth,” he explained. “Wait too long and it’ll all be gone.”
“I heard they starve you as punishment,” said Sister Henna, the plump girl he had met in the laundry. She asked even more questions than the others and whenever he looked up she seemed to be watching him.
“Our masters have more practical ways of punishing us than starvation, sister,” he told her.
“When do they make you fight to the death?” the thin man Innis, asked. The question was voiced with such earnest curiosity Vaelin found he couldn’t take offence.
“The Test of the Sword comes in our seventh year in the Order. It is our final test.”
“You have to fight each other to the death?” Sister Henna seemed shocked.
Vaelin shook his head. “We will be matched against three condemned criminals. Murderers, outlaws and so forth. If they defeat us they are considered to have been judged innocent of their crimes as the Departed will not accept them into the Beyond. If we defeat them we are judged fit to carry a sword in service to the Order.”
“Brutal but simple,” Master Harin commented before belching loudly and patting his stomach. “The ways of the Sixth Order may seem harsh to us, my children, but do not forget they stand between our Faith and those who would destroy it. In times past they fought to keep us safe. If not for them we wouldn’t be here to offer care and healing to the Faithful. Think well on that.”
There was a murmur of agreement around the table and, for once, conversation turned to other matters. The concerns of the Fifth Order seemed to revolve mainly around bandages, medicinal herbs, various forms of disease and the endlessly popular subject of infection. He wondered if he should be more upset at having to discuss the Test of the Sword but found it left him with little more than a vague sense of unease. He had known it was coming since his first days in the Order, they all had, it was an annual event, watched by a great many of the city’s populace and, although novice brothers of the Order were forbidden to attend, he had heard many stories of prolonged combats and unfortunate brothers whose skills had failed to match the final test. However, set against what he had already experienced it seemed little more than one of many dangers ahead. Perhaps that was the point of the tests, to render them immune to danger, accepting fear as a normal part of their lives.
“Do you have tests?” he asked Master Harin.
“No m’boy. No tests here. Novice brothers and sisters stay in the Order House for five years where they are trained in our ways. Many will leave or be asked to leave but those that stay will have earned the skills to heal and will be appointed tasks that match their abilities. Myself, I spent twenty years in the Cumbraelin capital, seeing to the needs of the small Faithful community there. It’s a hard thing, brother, to live amongst those who would deny the Faith.”
“The King’s Edict tells us Cumbraelins are our brothers in the Realm, as long as they keep their beliefs within their own fief.”