Blood Song

“I’m sorry, Nortah,” Vaelin said. It was all he could think to say.

“Why did you stop me?” Nortah whispered through tears.

“They would have killed you.”

“Then they would have done me a service.”

“Don’t talk like that. I doubt your father’s soul would have dwelt happily in the Beyond knowing that you had followed him there so soon.”

Nortah wept silently for a while and Vaelin watched him, a hundred empty condolences dying on his lips.

I don’t have the words, he realised. There are no words for this.

“Did you see it?” Nortah asked finally. “Did he suffer?”

Vaelin thought of the clatter of the trap and the exultation of the crowd. A fearful knowledge to take into the Beyond that so many rejoiced at your death. “It was quick.”

“They said he stole from the King. My father would never do that, he cherished the King and served him well.”

Vaelin seized on the only comfort he could offer. “Prince Malcius said to tell you that he grieves also.”

“Malcius? He was there?”

“He helped us, made the Crows let us go. I thought that he recognised you.”

Nortah’s expression softened a little, becoming distant. “When I was a boy we would ride together. Malcius was my father’s student and often came to our home. My father taught many boys of the noble houses. His wisdom in state craft and diplomacy was famed.” Nortah fumbled for the cloth on the table nearby and wiped the tears from his face. “What is the Aspect’s judgement?”

“He feels you have been punished enough.”

“Then I am not even granted the mercy of release from this place.”

“We were both sent here at the behest of our fathers. I have respected my father’s wishes by staying here although I do not know why he gave me to the Order. Your father also would have had good reason for sending you here. It was his wish in life, it will remain his wish now he is with the Departed. Perhaps you should respect it.”

“So I should languish here while my father’s lands are forfeit and my family left destitute?”

“Will your family be any less destitute with you at their side? Do you have riches that will help them? Think what kind of life you would have outside the Order. You will be the son of a traitor, marked by the King’s soldiers for vengeance. Your family will have burdens enough without you at their side. The Order is no longer your prison, it’s your protection.”

Nortah sank back into the bed, staring at the ceiling in mixed exhaustion and grief. “Please brother, I must be alone for a time.”

Vaelin rose and went to the door. “Remember you are not alone in this. Your brothers will not allow you to fall victim to grief.” Outside he lingered at the door listening to Nortah’s hard, pain filled sobs. So much pain. He wondered if his own father had been on the gallows if he would have fought so hard to save him. Would I have even cried?

That night he collected Scratch from the kennels and took him to the north gate where they played fetch the ball and waited for the boy Frentis to arrive for his knife throwing lesson. Scratch seemed to be growing stronger and faster with each passing day. Master Jeklin’s dog feed, a hash of minced beef, bone marrow and pulped fruit, had put even more meat on his frame and his constant exercise with Vaelin left his physique both lean and powerful. Despite his fierce appearance and unnerving size, Scratch retained the same happy, face licking spirit of an overgrown puppy.

“Don’t you normally take him to the woods?” It was Caenis, slipping from the shadows cast by the gate house. Vaelin was a little annoyed at himself for not sensing his brother’s presence but Caenis was unusually skilled at remaining hidden and took a perverse delight in appearing apparently from nowhere.

“Do you have to do that?” Vaelin asked.

“I’m practising.”

Scratch came scampering up with the ball in his mouth, dropping it at Vaelin’s feet and greeting Caenis with a sniff of his boots. Caenis patted him uncertainly on the head. Like the other brothers he had never lost his basic fear of the animal.

“Nortah still sleeping?” Caenis asked.

Vaelin shook his head. He didn’t want to talk about Nortah; his brother’s tears had left a hard knot in his chest that was taking a long time to fade.

“The coming months will be hard,” Caenis went on with a sigh.

“Aren’t they always?” Vaelin hurled the ball towards the river, Scratch hurtling after it with a joyful yelp. “Sorry you didn’t get to see the king.”

“No, but I saw the prince. That was enough. What a great man he’ll be.”

Vaelin gave Caenis a sidelong glance, seeing the familiar glint in his eye. He had never been comfortable with his friend’s blind devotion to the king. “He… was a very impressive man. I’m sure he’ll be a fine king one day.”

“Yes, he’ll lead us to glory.”

“Glory, brother?”