Blood Song

Caenis took the arrow from the bow and returned it to the quiver at his hip, laying the bow down gently on his pack. “It’s a story. A tale like the Old Songs, but it concerns the Faith. Truth be told I’d never given it credence. It’s rarely told and the archives of the Orders make no mention of it.”

“No mention of what?”

“In our time there are six Orders serving the Faith. But once, so some say, there were seven. In the early years of he Faith, when the Orders were first formed and the first Aspects chosen it’s said there was a Seventh Order. The Orders were formed to serve each of the principal aspects of the Faith, and so the brother or sister chosen to lead an order is called the Aspect. The Seventh Order, so its claimed, was the Order of the Dark, its brothers and sisters would delve into the mysteries, seeking knowledge and power to better serve the Faith. Traditionally practice of the Dark has been ascribed to the Denier creeds but, if this tale is to be believed, it was once part of our Faith. The tale has it that after one hundred years a crisis arose. The Seventh Order began to grow in power, using its knowledge of the Dark to seek dominion over the Orders, claiming their knowledge brought them closer to the Departed, claiming they could hear their voice, interpret their guidance more clearly than the lesser Orders. They said it was a privilege that gave them the right to lead, to have ascendancy in the Faith. Such a thing could not be tolerated of course, the Faith must have balance between the Orders, one cannot be set above the others. So there was war between the Faithful and in time the Seventh was destroyed but not before much blood had been spilled. It is said that so great was the chaos caused by this war that it brought the fracturing of the Realm into the four fiefs not united again until the reign of our great King Janus. Whether any of this is true cannot be told. If true it would have happened over six hundred years ago and the few books to survive the centuries say nothing of these events.”

“And yet you seem to know the tale well.”

“You know me, brother.” Caenis smiled faintly. “I was always fond of stories. The more fanciful the better.”

“You believe it, don’t you?” A sudden insight came to Vaelin then, a realisation spawned by the faintness of Caenis’s smile and the immediacy with which he had told his tale. “You already knew. You knew this Seventh Order were behind this.”

“I suspected. There are tales, little more than fables, that claim the Seventh Order was never truly destroyed, that it survived, thrived in secret, awaiting its time to return and claim the ascendancy it sought so long ago.”

“We will go to Master Sollis and the Aspect, they must hear of this.”

“They already have, brother. I told them all I suspected as soon as I returned to the Order. I formed the impression I was telling them nothing they didn’t already know.”

Vaelin remembered Master Sollis’s reaction to Sister Henna’s words and Aspect Elera’s refusal to discuss it. They know, he realised. They all know. A secret kept by the Aspects for centuries. Once there were seven. And the Seventh waits, it plots. They know.

His limbs began to ache with a sudden chill although it was a bright, sunlit day. “Thank you for sharing your knowledge with me brother,” he said, crossing his arms and hugging himself for warmth.

“I always will Vaelin,” Caenis replied. “You know there are no secrets between us.”

The Test of the Horse came two months later, a mile long course through woods and rough country followed by three arrows loosed from the saddle into the centre of three targets. Surprising no-one, Nortah excelled in the Test, setting a new record in the process. The others all fared well, even Barkus whose riding was scarcely better than Vaelin. He struggled from the start, Spit was his usual fractious self and would only stir to a gallop after a tirade of heart-felt threats. They laboured over the course in the slowest time of the day and Vaelin’s archery from the saddle was barely adequate, but at least he had passed. For once no other brothers failed the Test and the evening meal became a raucous celebration complete with smuggled beer and much throwing of food. They were punished the next morning with a freezing swim in the river and five laps of the practice field at full pelt stark naked. No-one thought it hadn’t been worth it.