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. But Cordus Landsaver said he didn't have enough of us yet, and went off in search of more. So where are you from, by the way?"
"Knights Welcome," said Lannon. "Just outside of it, actually."
"I'm from Gravendar," said Vorden, "the City of the Dead. It's much bigger than Knights Welcome."
"Why is it called that?" said Lannon.
"City of the Dead?" Vorden shrugged. "I guess because of all the Olrog tombs there. A lot of Squires here come from Gravendar, but even more come from Kalamede, the western city. There are others here from Knights Welcome, too. You might know some of them."
"Maybe," said Lannon, knowing he probably wouldn't.
"Let me tell you some things about this place," said Vorden. "First of all, avoid the Green Knights, because some are downright mean. The other Knights are more easy going, but you still have to mind your manners around them. The Squires are okay, with the exception of a few, and you should get along with them. We get good food here-three meals a day, which we eat in the Armory Hall. We turn in early, and get up early, but so far we haven't gotten any training. I guess we have to wait for the Color Trials before the Knights decide how to train us."
"How long before we can be Knights?" asked Lannon.
"That's an individual thing," said Vorden. "But usually it takes about four to eight years, from what I've heard. It all depends on how fast you learn, how talented you are, and how hard you work."
"So if you end up being Orange," said Lannon, "you get no training and can never become a Knight?"
"Right," said Vorden. "Of course, you could always leave. That's probably what I'd do. If I couldn't be a Knight, I'd be too humiliated to stay. I guess I could go live as a Ranger or something."
Lannon thought of the Rangers who looked after the North Road, and wondered if Vorden knew anything about their hardships.
"Come on," said Vorden. "I'll introduce you to some of the others."
Just then, the door banged open and Cartlan entered. The room fell silent. "Okay, Squires, you've got just a few moments to get ready and head into the Hall. We're going to have lunch and then a meeting. After that, the Color Trials shall begin. Now follow along, please. And hurry up. We don't want to keep the Masters waiting."
"This is it!" said Vorden, grinning. "Now we're going to find out who is Knightly material and who isn't!" He straightened his black clothes and smoothed his hair (as if that would help him somehow), and jumped up.
Lannon put away his book and rose unsteadily to his feet. His stomach felt ready to sink to the floor. He couldn't fathom how Vorden could show such confidence (anticipation, even) over something Lannon found terrifying. But glancing around, he saw mixed expressions. Not many of the Squires showed the confidence Vorden seemed to feel. Most looked tense and hurried as they put on boots and belts and stashed away games and such. One lad seemed even worse off than Lannon, as his face had gone deathly pale and he was sitting on his bed holding his stomach.
"Poor sod," Vorden whispered, nodding toward the anxious lad. "That's Timlin Woodmaster, from Kalamede. I don't know why he was ever picked as a Squire. The boy has the courage of a Tree Goblin."
Lannon said nothing, understanding Timlin's fear. Less than a week before, Lannon had been a lonely lad living a secluded life in the woods, and now he was suddenly surrounded by boys his own age. Soon he would have to go before them and prove his worth in the Color Trials. But despite the special power the Knights believed he had, he didn't feel the Trials were going to be the least bit fun.
Chapter 5: The Color Trials
The boys gathered at tables in the Armory Hall. Eight girls, led by a grey-cloaked Birlote woman with short silver hair and soft green eyes, soon joined them. The Green Knights (there were five of them now) glanced up from their papers and gave stern looks whenever the chatter grew too loud. Vorden kept Lannon company, but they didn't talk much, except for a few comments on how anxious they were for the Color Trials to begin and how hungry Vorden was. Lannon didn't feel hungry at all.