Their first test came in the month of Jamir, months passed since Elaire had been left at the gate: the Test of the Will. They had been told little about what it entailed except that each year this test saw more expulsions than any other. They were trooped out into the courtyard along with the other boys of similar age, about two hundred in all. They had been told to bring their bows, one quiver of arrows, hunting knife, water flask and nothing else.
The master of the Order led them in a brief recitation of the Catechism of Faith before informing them of what to expect: "The Test of the Will is where we discover who among you is truly fit to serve the Order. Till now, you have had the privilege to be in service to the Faith, but in the Warrior Order privileges must be earned. You will be taken upriver by boat and left at different places on the bank. You must be back here by midnight tomorrow. Anyone who does not arrive in time will be allowed to keep their weapons and will be given three gold shields."
He nodded to the masters and left. Elaire felt the fear and uncertainty about him but did not share it. He would pass the test, he had to, there was nowhere for him to go.
"To the river bank at the run!" Jarem barked. "No slacking. Pick your feet up, Dí Sálem, this isn't a shitting dance floor."
Waiting at the riverside wharf were three barges, large, shallow draught boats with black painted hulls and blue canvas sails. They were a common sight on the river estuary, running coal along the coast from the mines in the south to feed the myriad chimneys of Varinshold. Bargemen were a distinct group, wearing black scarves around their necks and a band of silver in their left ear, notorious drinkers and brawlers when not plying their trade. A Zemrian mother would warn a wayward daughter: "Be a good girl or you'll wed no better than a bargeman."
Jarem exchanged a few words with the master of their barge, a wiry man who glared suspiciously at the silent assembly of boys, handing him a purse of coin and barking at them to get aboard and muster in the centre of the deck.
"And don't touch anything, lack-brains!"
"I've never been to sea before," Jon commented as they sat down on the hard planks of the deck.
"This isn't the sea," Benjen informed him. "It's the river."
"My uncle Jake went to sea," Jon continued, ignoring Benjen as most of them did. "Never came back. Me mam said he got eaten by a whale."
"What's a whale?" asked Lucas, one of the rare moments one hears his voice.
"It's a big animal that lives in the sea," Nolan replied, he tended to know the answer to most questions. He gave Jon a nudge, "And it doesn't eat people. Your uncle was probably eaten by a shark, some of them grow as big as a whale."
"How would you know?" Benjen sneered, as he usually did whenever Nolan offered an opinion. "Ever seen one?"
"Yes." Nolan flushed and fell silent, scratching at a loose splinter on the deck with his hunting knife.
"When, Nolan?" Elaire prompted his friend. "When did you see the shark?"
Nolan smiled a little, something he did rarely. "A year or so ago, in the Renrian. My… I was taken to sea once. There are many creatures that live in the sea, seals and orcas and more fish than you can count. And sharks, one of them came up to our ship. It was over thirty feet from tip to tail, one of the sailors said they feed on orcas and whales, people too if you're unlucky enough to be in the water when they're around. There are stories of them ramming ships to sink them and feed on the crew."
Nolan snorted in derision but the others were clearly fascinated.
"Did you see pirates?" Jon asked eagerly. "They say the Renrian is thick with 'em."
Nolan shook his head. "No pirates. They don't bother Realm ships since the war."
"Which war?" Deren said. "The Kekan war, the one Instructor Jarem talks about all the time. The King sent a fleet to burn the Kekan's biggest city, all the pirates in the Renrian are from Kekan, so they learned to leave us alone."
"Wouldn't it make more sense to burn their fleet?" Deren wondered. "That way there wouldn't be any pirates at all."
"They can always build more ships," Elaire said. "Burning a city leaves a memory, passed from parent to child. Makes sure they won't forget us."
"Could've just killed them all," Benjen suggested sullenly. "No pirates, no piracy."
Instructor Jarem cane swept down from nowhere, catching him on the hand and making him release his knife, still embedded in the deck. "I said don't touch anything, boy." His gaze swivelled to Nolan. "Voyager are you, boy?"
Nolan bowed his head. "Only once instructor."
"Really? Where did you go on this adventure?".
"To the Tensel Isle. My – erm, one of the passengers had business there." Jarem grunted, bent down to prise Nolan's knife from the deck and tossed it to him.
"Sheath it, fop. You'll need a sharp blade before long."
"Were you there, instructor?" Elaire asked him. He was the only one who dared ask Jarem anything, braving the risk of a caning.
Jarem could be fierce or he could be informative. It was impossible to tell which until you asked the question.
"Were you there when the Kekense city burned?" Jarem's gaze flicked to him, pale eyes meeting his. There was a question in them, and inquisitiveness. For the first time, Elaire realised Jarem thought he knew more than he did, though his father had told him stories of his many battles, that there was an insult concealed in his questions.
"No," Jarem replied. "I was on the northern border then. I'm sure other instructors will answer any questions you have about that war."
He moved away to thrash another boy whose hand had strayed too close to a coil of rope. The barges sailed north, following the long arc of the river and dashing any thought Elaire had of simply following the river bank back to the Order House; it was too far a journey. If he wanted to be back in time it meant a trek through the forest. He eyed the dark mass of trees warily. Although the lessons with Instructor Odian had made them familiar with the forest the thought of a blind journey through the woods was not pleasant. He knew how easily a boy could be lost in amongst the trees, wandering in circles for hours.
"Head south," Benjen, whispering next to his ear. "Away from the north star. Head south until you meet the riverbank, then follow it until you come to the wharf. Then you have to swim the river."
Elaire glanced at him and saw that Benjen was gazing blithely up at the sky as if he hadn't spoken. Looking around at his bored, lounging companions it was clear they hadn't heard. Benjen was helping him but not the others. They began to drop the boys off after about three hours sailing, there was a little ceremony to it, Jarem simply chose a boy at random and told him to jump over the side and swim for shore. Jon was the first from their group to go.
"See you back at the House, Jon" Elaire encouraged him.
Jon, silent for once, smiled back weakly before hitching his Strongbow over his shoulder and vaulting over the rail into the river. He swam to the bank quickly and paused to shake off the river water then disappeared into the trees with a brief wave.
Deren was next, theatrically balancing atop the rail before performing a backflip into the river. A few boys clapped appreciatively.
Lucas went next but not without some trepidation. "I'm not sure I can swim that far, Master," he stammered staring down at the dark waters of the river.
"Then try to drown quietly," Jarem said tipping him over the rail. Lucas made a loud splash and seemed to remain underwater for an age, it was with some relief they saw him surface a short distance away, sputtering and flailing before he regained his composure and began to swim towards the bank.
Nolan was next, accepting Elaire's wish of good luck with a nod before jumping wordlessly over the rail.
Benjen followed him shortly after, controlling his evident fear with some effort, he said to Jarem, "Instructor, if I don't return I would like my father to know…"
"You don't have a father, boy. Get in there."
Benjen bit back an angry retort and hauled himself onto the rail, diving in after a second's hesitation.
"Sálem, your turn."
Elaire wondered if it was significant that he was last to go and would therefore have the longest distance to travel. He went to the rail, his bowstring tight against his chest, pulling the strap on his quiver taut so it wouldn't come adrift in the water. He put both hands on the rail and prepared to vault over.
"The others are not to be helped, boy," Jarem told him. He had said nothing like this to the other boys. "Get yourself back, let them worry about themselves."
Elaire frowned, "Instructor?"
"You heard me. Whatever happens, it's their fate, not yours." He jerked his head at the river. "On your way."
It was clear he would say nothing more so Elaire took a firm grip of the rail and swung himself over, falling feet first into the water, enveloped instantly in the shocking coldness of it. He fought a moment's panic as his head went under then kicked for the surface, breaking into the air he dragged it into his lungs and struck out for the shore which suddenly seemed a lot further away. By the time he struggled to his feet on the shingle bank the barges had passed him by and were well upstream. He thought he saw Instructor Jarem still at the rail, staring after him, but couldn't be sure.