Garinor took Inera’s words to heart and decided to stay for a little while in order to come up with a plan. “Okay, I will stay briefly.”
“Very good!” she cheered. “I was hoping you would say so. There are things to do, so we will have to find a place for you in the meantime.”
“I would like to talk to Jinorrah for a little bit and then figure out where I’m going to go from here.”
“Ah, yes, we’ll bring up Jinorrah and he’ll show you around.” Inera stood up and took the tray with her, motioning for Garinor to stay for a moment longer. “We’ll send him right up,” she said and then she was gone.
He wondered if he was doing the right thing. These people were genuine enough, but he feared what would happen if the riders gave up their hunt and returned only to find him there after all. They wouldn’t likely treat him or the others well for the subterfuge.
His musings were interrupted when the door opened and Jinorrah burst in, a big grin on his face. “Hey, thanks for getting me out today! I wasn’t up for topside for three more shifts.”
Garinor had to smile, too; his new friend was particularly cheerful. He followed Jin out and around the area. Jin showed him the cooking rooms and the sewing rooms, and he pointed down one long corridor where most of the younger children slept. “Don’t go down there unless you really have to. It’s a mess.”
He was taken toward a western wing of the enormous building, where some older children were tinkering about with various creations. Some of them were working on what appeared to be wagon wheels and axles. Others were repairing tubs and buckets with a sticky, tar-like substance that smelled particularly foul. There were too many things for him to take in.
Jinorrah walked Garinor through all of them and into a small room that had one bed and a small table and nothing else. “Lots of rooms like this one here. Just a place to sleep, you know. The rest of everyone mingles in the common areas like you saw. But this one will be ours tonight. I’ll take the floor, since I owe you for getting me out early.”
They spent the rest of the day together and Jin showed him where the animals’ coops were located. There was a large barn area with cows and pigs and a massive hen house filled to the brim with clucking birds. It was so noisy that Garinor had to cover his ears against the sheer volume of it.
They chatted about the daily happenings at the orphanage, but Garinor refused to talk about the thoughts that darkened his eyes. He kept looking over his shoulder while they were outside but he held his tongue. Garinor’s pursuit was still fresh in his mind and so it was only natural for him to still be edgy.
The night settled in and they ate in a large common hall with many other children. Jinorrah explained that there were three such dining areas and all of them were functional three times a day. There were whole task forces devoted just to meals, whether for preparation or for setting up and cleaning. And because the work rotated, the children accepted their lot and were grateful to have such a safe and well-run place to stay.
The next day was met with gray skies and rain throughout the day. The orphanage turned entirely inward and the only people to go outside were the unfortunate ones who had to gather milk from the cows and eggs from the hens. This led to a louder and more cramped setting than the day before. It was much more uncomfortable for him than the others. He wasn’t used to being surrounded by so many people at once. Sure, he grew up in a decently sized town, but this was like tripling the number of people in Paligar and cramming them all into the southern quarter of it.
Sister Arine sought out Garinor mid-morning and took him to a small office that clearly belonged to her. Inera had said that Arine was the most athletic of them and even in her fifties she was feisty. Swords and bows and spears and axes lined her walls, as did depictions of her battling scores of foes. He realized that they were mostly fictionalizations, but in watching the way she moved with such cat-like grace, he found himself believing that she truly had fended off a horde of a hundred angry orcs.
“Well, Garinor, it seems we have something to talk about,” she said. “Sit down.” It wasn’t exactly a command, but it wasn’t much of a request, either. Garinor didn’t hesitate to obey.
Arine paced around the room, hands clasped behind her back. Garinor thought she looked like a warrior posing as a scholar. Her arms tensed and relaxed and she seemed ready to pounce into action at any moment. He tried to remain calm and not fidget in his seat.
“I don’t know where to begin so let me just be out with it,” she said at last. “We know of the prophecy. We know that the prince is part of it and that he seeks the heir. We also know that through countless hours of labor he has discovered what you look like. So it’s clear to me that it’s only a matter of time before all of his attention turns to hunting you down in force. It’ll be something that no one will be able to escape, no matter how crafty.”
She didn’t give him a chance to respond, but rounded on him and bent down so she was face to face with him. “But that doesn’t make all this your fault, you know. It just means that we need to be more cautious.” She stood up and resumed her pacing. “I know a group of people who’ve been out to protect the heir basically since he was born. I would take you to them and entrust you to their care. If you would go, that is, for you can still choose to venture off on your own.”
Garinor shook his head. “I feel like I’ve been alone through so much of this that some guidance would be welcome.”
“Guidance—and protection,” she amended. “They would take you northward toward the General’s camp and he would know best how to protect you. After all, it was he who founded the group in the first place.”
“I don’t know what to say. Thank you, Sister Arine.”
She blushed at the mention of her name. “Oh, never mind all that nonsense. It is we who should be grateful for the chance to bring you safely to a place where you can then seek out a way to return to the throne.”
He squirmed in his chair, his own cheeks reddening. “I don’t know if I’m ready for something like that.”
She laughed. “Of course you aren’t. Don’t be silly. No one is ever really ready. Even if you’re groomed for it or born into it. You’re never ready for something until you’ve been living in it a while. That’s the nature of things. Sure, you can iron out some of your issues early if you know some skills beforehand, but even if you know all the best techniques of a swordfight, it’s all useless until you’re in the thick of things and trying to apply them.”
“You make it seem like anyone could fight, then.”
“No, not exactly. But there are people with natural ability to do something. There are others who can be trained for it. Others still who can’t ever grasp the task. But whatever the case, it isn’t until the challenge is before you that you find out one way or another. Even the weakest and most inexperienced fighter can land a lucky blow that fells the most skilled warrior, and so on. Some of it’s luck. Some of it’s skill. Some of it is just plain fate.”
“You believe in fate?”
She stared at him intently. “Niare is more into that sort of thing, but I think for some fate plays a role more so than for others. You, for instance, are caught up in a web of fate that ties you to that prophecy. You can’t escape it. Sure, you can die and avoid it that way, or move to some far-off location and hide from it. But I think if you continue your path, you’ll find your destiny and you’ll see that it’s wrapped up with the fates of those other two.”
“Then I’ll see the prince face to face one day and then I can bring down all the horrors he’s brought to the land.”
Arine smiled fondly. “Yes, but don’t be too hasty either, Garinor. I know that it seems as if his actions are unjust and timid, but there are other forces at work here. You feel the push of destiny to meet him and to bring this to an end. He’s under the same pressure.”
“But he goes about it in such a terrible way.”
“True, his manner is questionable from our perspective, but he might be acting in a way that seems right and just to him. It could be like having someone invade the country and he is trying to hold them back with all his might. We would want to hold off an invasion, wouldn’t we?”
Garinor’s eyes drifted to the floor. “Yes. But why are you defending him?”
“I’m only saying that you shouldn’t face this challenge blindly.”
She said it sincerely, but Garinor doubted her. He couldn’t imagine anyone speaking well of the prince after all he’d been through, after the burning of Arvion. He said as much.
“I know, Garinor. But perhaps he’s misunderstood by those around him and that his intentions were not to kill. All I ask is that at the time of judgment, you see him with honest eyes and not those clouded by others.”
“I’ll try,” was all he could promise.
“All we can ever do is try.” She sat down in a chair at last. “I do wish it wasn’t raining today. I would have liked to spar with you.”
“With me?”
She smiled broadly. “Of course. It would have made a great tale for the rest of my days. Sparring in the courtyard of the orphanage with the future king, child of the prophecy.”
His cheeks lit crimson, but he made himself meet her gaze. “Why should rain stop us?”
Arine came alive with those words. She jumped to her feet and claimed two swords from her wall. She handed the shorter one Garinor to match his height and they strode from her room and ventured out into the rain.
A great wave of noise spread through the entire orphanage as word spread. The massive halls emptied as everyone splashed out into the mud. Even the boys secluded under the orphanage came from their refuge to witness the match. It was an event not to be missed. The exhilaration filled Garinor with such awe that when the clouds parted temporarily and cast a break in the downpour, he partly wondered if his euphoria had caused it.
Garinor’s youthful vigor was no match for the older woman’s skill. She was as agile as if she were still twenty years old. Their swords met with a clang and they spun and twisted about, blocking and parrying each other. Arine danced about as a true expert in the craft and her controlled swings were perfectly matched to teach Garinor as well as to test him. She gave him openings where he could strike in and she offered him chances to break her own attacks.
The match lasted through the brief respite from the rain and when the drops fell again they continued, slashing and parrying like their lives were wrapped around this exhibition. It was a great feeling for Garinor, for he felt safe there, even with her sword swinging about sometimes faster than he could follow. He let his instincts take over and, although that made him somewhat of a sloppy fighter, even Arine was impressed.
“You have inherent skill,” she commended. “Some fine-tuning and you have the makings of a great swordsman.”
They sparred until they were both weary and soaked fully through. The crowd clambered back into the orphanage and, though it meant a lot of mopping up of mud and water later on, no one complained, even those responsible for the cleanup. Garinor helped them scrub the floors and that cheered them further.
Garinor slept well that night in his small room. Jinorrah was allowed the extra night out of the cellar in order to keep his friend company, but in the morning they parted ways again.
Word had spread of Garinor’s heritage and he was uncomfortable with the greetings and stares, but he knew that he wouldn’t have to endure it for long. Arine was taking him to her friends that day and they would be on their way soon.
He bid farewell to the four Sisters and thanked them for their hospitality. He knew he would return someday to visit them. They were good people doing amazing work.
As afternoon approached, he and Arine ventured off on horseback to the east, seeking the help of Arine’s friends, who would ultimately lead him to his destiny.