turned out to be a round chamber filled with many beds and small nightstands, a very plain and boring room with bare oaken walls. Young men near Lannon's age occupied all but a few of the beds. The youths were busy chatting with each other, or playing card and dice games.
Cartlan led Lannon to an empty bed numbered forty-seven. "Your things are under here, minus that fancy sword. Taris said to let you know you could have the sword when you finish the Color Trials. When I see you again, don't expect any special favors."
Lannon ignored him and dragged his pack out from under the bed. He sat down on the hard mattress and looked around. He noticed that many of the lads were Norack (or pale skinned) like him--though there were several Birlotes and Olrogs amongst them. (The Olrog boys already had short beards.) A few of the youths bothered to glance his way, but the rest took no notice of him. His eyes passed over them quickly, and his heart began to pound anxiously. He began to long for the solitude of Knights Valley.
Hurriedly he pulled The Truth about Goblins from his pack and lay down to read. He opened to the middle and found himself staring, ironically enough, at a drawing of a Foul Brother--which, after the encounter at the North Gate--now seemed like a menacing creature rather than a sad, dumb one. He started reading, and soon became wrapped up in the book, unaware of the passage of time.
Suddenly he realized someone was trying to get his attention. "Hey, you there!" a voice called out. "Why don't you answer me? Get your nose out of that book for a second."
Startled, Lannon glanced up. A boy sat on a bed next to him. His hair was black and neat, his eyes were large and dark, and he wore black clothing. He was bigger than Lannon as many of the boys were, and solidly built.
"What's your name? I'm Vorden Flameblade."
Lannon introduced himself.
"Lannon is a weird name," said Vorden. "I've never heard of a Lannon before."
And Vorden isn't a weird name? Lannon thought.
"I can't wait for the Color Trials to begin," said Vorden. "I know I'm going to be picked Brown, at least. Maybe even Red. What about you?"
Lannon shrugged. "I'm kind of worried I might not do so well. What types of colors are there? I already know about Orange."
"You could be picked Orange, Brown, White, Blue, Red, or Grey," said Vorden. "Orange is the bottom, of course, which means you've failed. Brown is where most of the talented Squires end up, and it lies just below Blue in rank, I think. I don't know much about Blue, and only rarely does anyone get picked for that. It's some kind of a secret, special class. Grey is for sorcerers--another rare class that's mostly for Birlotes. And then there's Red, which is what I'm hoping for. Red is second only to Green."
"Why not go for Green, then?" said Lannon.
"I can't," said Vorden. "You can only be Green if you've done great deeds and get promoted by a Lord Knight. Only High Council members are Green."
"What about White?" asked Lannon.
"It's kind of like Blue," said Vorden, "but not so mysterious. White is the Healing Class. White Knights seldom get to fight--they usually just heal people."
"How boring," said Lannon.
Vorden raised his eyebrows. "Sure, but somebody has to do it. Who else is going to care for the sick and wounded?"
Lannon nodded guiltily, thinking of his father, who desperately needed a White Knight to cure him. "I just hope I don't end up being White."
"You probably won't," said Vorden. "It's rare, and you don't seem compassionate enough for it. Of course, you don't look like a fighter, either. Truthfully, you kind of look like Orange material."
"When do we start the Trials?" Lannon asked nervously.
Vorden shrugged. "Hopefully soon. I just can't wait to go out and prove myself to the Knights!"
"Have you met some of the others?" Lannon asked.
"Yeah, I know most of the new Squires," said Vorden, "and some of the Knights. We've been waiting two weeks for the Color Trials to begin.
Cartlan led Lannon to an empty bed numbered forty-seven. "Your things are under here, minus that fancy sword. Taris said to let you know you could have the sword when you finish the Color Trials. When I see you again, don't expect any special favors."
Lannon ignored him and dragged his pack out from under the bed. He sat down on the hard mattress and looked around. He noticed that many of the lads were Norack (or pale skinned) like him--though there were several Birlotes and Olrogs amongst them. (The Olrog boys already had short beards.) A few of the youths bothered to glance his way, but the rest took no notice of him. His eyes passed over them quickly, and his heart began to pound anxiously. He began to long for the solitude of Knights Valley.
Hurriedly he pulled The Truth about Goblins from his pack and lay down to read. He opened to the middle and found himself staring, ironically enough, at a drawing of a Foul Brother--which, after the encounter at the North Gate--now seemed like a menacing creature rather than a sad, dumb one. He started reading, and soon became wrapped up in the book, unaware of the passage of time.
Suddenly he realized someone was trying to get his attention. "Hey, you there!" a voice called out. "Why don't you answer me? Get your nose out of that book for a second."
Startled, Lannon glanced up. A boy sat on a bed next to him. His hair was black and neat, his eyes were large and dark, and he wore black clothing. He was bigger than Lannon as many of the boys were, and solidly built.
"What's your name? I'm Vorden Flameblade."
Lannon introduced himself.
"Lannon is a weird name," said Vorden. "I've never heard of a Lannon before."
And Vorden isn't a weird name? Lannon thought.
"I can't wait for the Color Trials to begin," said Vorden. "I know I'm going to be picked Brown, at least. Maybe even Red. What about you?"
Lannon shrugged. "I'm kind of worried I might not do so well. What types of colors are there? I already know about Orange."
"You could be picked Orange, Brown, White, Blue, Red, or Grey," said Vorden. "Orange is the bottom, of course, which means you've failed. Brown is where most of the talented Squires end up, and it lies just below Blue in rank, I think. I don't know much about Blue, and only rarely does anyone get picked for that. It's some kind of a secret, special class. Grey is for sorcerers--another rare class that's mostly for Birlotes. And then there's Red, which is what I'm hoping for. Red is second only to Green."
"Why not go for Green, then?" said Lannon.
"I can't," said Vorden. "You can only be Green if you've done great deeds and get promoted by a Lord Knight. Only High Council members are Green."
"What about White?" asked Lannon.
"It's kind of like Blue," said Vorden, "but not so mysterious. White is the Healing Class. White Knights seldom get to fight--they usually just heal people."
"How boring," said Lannon.
Vorden raised his eyebrows. "Sure, but somebody has to do it. Who else is going to care for the sick and wounded?"
Lannon nodded guiltily, thinking of his father, who desperately needed a White Knight to cure him. "I just hope I don't end up being White."
"You probably won't," said Vorden. "It's rare, and you don't seem compassionate enough for it. Of course, you don't look like a fighter, either. Truthfully, you kind of look like Orange material."
"When do we start the Trials?" Lannon asked nervously.
Vorden shrugged. "Hopefully soon. I just can't wait to go out and prove myself to the Knights!"
"Have you met some of the others?" Lannon asked.
"Yeah, I know most of the new Squires," said Vorden, "and some of the Knights. We've been waiting two weeks for the Color Trials to begin.
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