The Protector's War by S. M. Stirling Page B

any Brother or Sister of the A-list who knows why Patrick Mallory, military apprentice, should not seek enrollment? Speak now, or hold your peace ever after.”
    Silence stretched. Hutton lowered his blade and stepped aside. “Pass, then.”
    The A-lister-to-be strode on past into the circle, his boots clacking on the flagstones, and came to a halt at arm’s length in front of Havel and saluted; he was a broad-shouldered young man of medium height, eyes and hair an unremarkable brown, skin pale with the long gray skies of winter.
    Havel answered the gesture and reached aside to pick up the sword resting across the trestle, standing with the steel across the leather palms of his gauntlets.
    â€œThis is a sword,” he said. “An ax can chop wood; with a bow or a lance you can hunt; knives were the first of all tools. The sword is a thing men make solely for the killing of their own kind; and those who don’t carry them can still die on their blades. Only an honorable man can be trusted with it. What is honor, Apprentice Mallory?”
    â€œHonor is the debt we owe to ourselves, Lord Bear. Honor is duty fulfilled.”
    â€œIf you take the sword you take death: in the end, your own death, as well as your enemy’s. What is duty, next to death?”
    The reply came proudly: “Duty is heavier than a mountain. Death is lighter than a feather.”
    â€œYou take this sword as token of the support and respect our community gives its defenders. The price is your oath to do justice, to uphold our laws, to put your own flesh between your land and people and war’s desolation. Are you ready to take that oath?”
    â€œI am, and to fulfill the oath with my life’s blood.”
    â€œDo you swear to stand by every Brother and Sister of the oath, holding them dearer than a parent, dearer than children?”
    â€œI do, unto death.”
    Havel reached forward and slid the sword into the empty scabbard at the other’s waist, and went on: “Kneel.”
    The apprentice went down on one knee and held out his hands with the palms pressed together. Havel took them between his own and looked down into the fearless young lion eyes as he listened to the apprentice’s words: “Until the sea floods the earth and the sky falls, or the Change is undone, or death releases me, I will keep faith and life and truth with the Bearkillers’ lord; in peace or war, following all orders under the law we have made.”
    â€œAnd I will keep faith with you likewise,” Havel said. “Let neither of us fail, at our peril. Now accept the mark that seals you to the Brotherhood.”
    He released the boy’s hands and reached for the wooden handle of the thin iron resting in the white-hot charcoal. Mallory’s face was unflinching as he touched the brand between his eyebrows; there was a sharp hiss and scent of burning. Signe stepped forward with a quick dab of an herbal ointment for the burn. Despite the pain, there was an enormous grin breaking through the solemnity as Mallory stood.
    Havel struck forearms with him, outside and inside, then pulled him into a quick embrace and turned, one arm around the young man’s shoulders.
    â€œBrothers and Sisters, I give you Brother Patrick Mallory, enrolled on the A-list of the Bearkillers! So witness earth—so witness sky!”
    â€œBy Earth, by Sky—Brother Mallory!”
    Metal-backed gauntlets punched into the afternoon air as near three hundred voices roared the name.
    â€œTake your place in the ranks, Brother Mallory. We have the work of the Outfit to do.” Mallory walked to the rear with a growing jauntiness.
    Will Hutton’s voice sounded again: “Who comes? And why?”
    â€œMilitary apprentice Susanna Clarke!”
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    Kenneth Larsson had always kept a workshop here at Larsdalen, ever since he was twelve and reading Tom Swift and His Atomic Earth Blaster and Citizen of the Galaxy , back in