Chapter 2

It was cold again the next morning, so I put on an extra jerkin when I got dressed. After communal breakfast, I joined the queue for a lunchsack, provided for those who would be unable to partake of communal lunch due to work. The queue was remarkably short; normally there would be a throng of hunters and warriors but they were strangely absent. After I explained that I would be outside in the cold all day, the victuallers made sure to provide me with plenty of protein.

Although I reached Matra Glandira’s establishment before the allotted time, it seemed I was the last to arrive as there were three village girls already waiting inside the entrance.

Thyrhonda was a very pretty girl whose presence would brighten any room. A very young fourteen, she was probably still a bit too young for marriage. She seemed to be constantly chattering, although she didn’t seem to have much to say.

Sharilla had just reached sixteen and was also quite a pretty girl. That, in combination with an amiable disposition, meant she was deemed a considerable catch in the marriage stakes. However she had so far spurned all suitors and that was causing one or two busybodies to speculate about her.

Phyllendra was a plain girl and quite dour and taciturn but, on the rare occasions she did speak, I found her points to be salient and perceptive. She was seventeen and unmarried, and rated an unattractive proposition. Like me, she hadn’t yet found a settled career path, but that seemed to be far less of an issue for girls.

The three girls noted my arrival then, as usual, went back to ignoring me, with Thyronda doing most of the talking.

“I hope I haven’t kept anyone waiting,” I butted in. “I was getting a lunchsack from the victuallers.”

Thyrhonda and Sharilla looked disconcerted.

“Matra Glendira told me to prepare for being outside all day,” I explained. “She wouldn’t want anyone to suffer unnecessarily so I’m sure she that after she’s explained the trial, she wouldn’t mind anyone without a lunchsack going to get one.”

“Indeed not. That’s good advice, Eloyin,” said Matra Glendira as she opened the door from her quarters. “Thank you all for being on time, and please join us in my quarters.” When Matra led us inside her living quarters, we found Patra Albertrin was already waiting.

Patra Albertrin started the proceedings with a short speech. “Matra Glandira has decided now would be an appropriate time to start passing on her lifetime’s knowledge of the art of healing to an apprentice,” he pompously announced. “I see before me the cream of the village’s youth and I am confident whoever is chosen will do the village proud. Matra Glandira has devised a task for you and whoever performs the best will earn the position.” Then Patra Albertrin noticed me. “Ah, Eloyin, what are you doing here? Are you helping Matra Glandira run the trial?”

“No, Patra,” interceded Matra Glandira. “Eloyin is one of the triallists.”

There were gasps all round the room at that. “What?” exclaimed Patra Albertrin. “But Eloyin is a ... boy!”

It was obvious Patra had been about to say something derogatory about me but, ever the consummate politician, had managed to restrain himself.

“Eloyin can read and write and do sums and has demonstrated a lot of empathy with those in need,” said Matra. “I think he would make a very competent healer.”