and is consecrated to put on the garments of chaen, shall not reveal his wisdom, nor rend his clothes; neither shall he go in to any dead body; neither shall he go out of the Abbey grounds, nor profane the Abbey grounds; for the crown of the anointing oil is upon him.’ The record goes on to speak about what wife he may take and what blemishes may disqualify him from the anointing.
“This is the accepted origin of the term ‘Aldermaston’ by most learners, and many hold mastons themselves to these high standards, excluding knights, armigers, or squires who fight in the service of their king, properly sanctioned, and thus visit death upon the bodies of their foes.
“I am told there exists another translation of the Tome of Soliven, which mentions and describes the first use of the term ‘Aldermaston’ in a different manner. It tells of King Zedakah, back in the day of the first Family. As a young boy, he was strong enough in the Medium to stop, as Soliven wrote it, the mouths of lions and quench the violence of fire. He instructed the ancestors of the first Family in the order of Aldermaston, telling them that they should have power, through the Medium and by their lineage, to break mountains, to divide the seas, to dry up waters, to turn them out of their course; to defy the armies of nations, to divide the earth, to stand in the midst of the sun; to do all things according to the will of the Medium, and at its command, subdue principalities and all powers.
“I should think learners would prefer this account, if only the original could be found.”
- Cuthbert Renowden of Billerbeck Abbey
* * *
CHAPTER SEVEN:
The King’s Men
Lia and Sowe both slept in the loft that night. The young man who would not tell them his name insisted on sleeping on rush-matting on the hard kitchen tiles. After complaining that he had dozed for much of the day and was not tired, he paced and skulked through the dark kitchen as if it were a prison. Lia watched him from the loft. After Sowe fell asleep, which never took long, he took up a broom and practiced with it like a sword, swinging the pole around in a series of studied moves, that would have been graceful except for the time he stumbled against a bucket or when the makeshift blade clacked against a table during a down strike. He muttered to himself often. Lia watched for as long as she could keep her eyes open, then fell asleep out of pure exhaustion.
She awoke before dawn and discovered him sitting by the small oven, his face reflecting the hue of the fire, rubbing his mouth as he stared into the flames. His clean shirt covered the chaen, fitting him well at the shoulders. He glanced up at her as she started down the ladder, then looked back at the oven fires.
“Did you sleep?” Lia asked him, noticing the bandage over his eyebrow was missing, the scar red and swollen.
“Does it matter? I can do nothing but sleep during the day.”
She determined he was in a sour mood again, and thought it best to prepare him something to eat before Pasqua arrived. Hunger made the calmest men cranky. After tying on an apron and fetching some oats, she started a pot boiling and gathered some spices to flavor it. The water bubbled quickly and she added the oats. Then she cut into a loaf that had survived the day before and lathered some butter and honey on it then set it by the oven to warm and melt the butter. He took it, without thanking her, and started to eat.
His sullen expression threatened to wilt her courage, which made her angry and determined. “The horse that Jon Hunter found must be yours,” she said, handing him the steaming bowl she’d prepared and a wooden spoon.
“I am sure it is,” he said sourly, taking it.
“I could help you get it back.” She scooped some milled flour onto a mat and then cracked an egg into it. “He must be keeping it in the pens behind his lodge. It is on the other side of the grounds, but not far and if the
“This is the accepted origin of the term ‘Aldermaston’ by most learners, and many hold mastons themselves to these high standards, excluding knights, armigers, or squires who fight in the service of their king, properly sanctioned, and thus visit death upon the bodies of their foes.
“I am told there exists another translation of the Tome of Soliven, which mentions and describes the first use of the term ‘Aldermaston’ in a different manner. It tells of King Zedakah, back in the day of the first Family. As a young boy, he was strong enough in the Medium to stop, as Soliven wrote it, the mouths of lions and quench the violence of fire. He instructed the ancestors of the first Family in the order of Aldermaston, telling them that they should have power, through the Medium and by their lineage, to break mountains, to divide the seas, to dry up waters, to turn them out of their course; to defy the armies of nations, to divide the earth, to stand in the midst of the sun; to do all things according to the will of the Medium, and at its command, subdue principalities and all powers.
“I should think learners would prefer this account, if only the original could be found.”
- Cuthbert Renowden of Billerbeck Abbey
* * *
CHAPTER SEVEN:
The King’s Men
Lia and Sowe both slept in the loft that night. The young man who would not tell them his name insisted on sleeping on rush-matting on the hard kitchen tiles. After complaining that he had dozed for much of the day and was not tired, he paced and skulked through the dark kitchen as if it were a prison. Lia watched him from the loft. After Sowe fell asleep, which never took long, he took up a broom and practiced with it like a sword, swinging the pole around in a series of studied moves, that would have been graceful except for the time he stumbled against a bucket or when the makeshift blade clacked against a table during a down strike. He muttered to himself often. Lia watched for as long as she could keep her eyes open, then fell asleep out of pure exhaustion.
She awoke before dawn and discovered him sitting by the small oven, his face reflecting the hue of the fire, rubbing his mouth as he stared into the flames. His clean shirt covered the chaen, fitting him well at the shoulders. He glanced up at her as she started down the ladder, then looked back at the oven fires.
“Did you sleep?” Lia asked him, noticing the bandage over his eyebrow was missing, the scar red and swollen.
“Does it matter? I can do nothing but sleep during the day.”
She determined he was in a sour mood again, and thought it best to prepare him something to eat before Pasqua arrived. Hunger made the calmest men cranky. After tying on an apron and fetching some oats, she started a pot boiling and gathered some spices to flavor it. The water bubbled quickly and she added the oats. Then she cut into a loaf that had survived the day before and lathered some butter and honey on it then set it by the oven to warm and melt the butter. He took it, without thanking her, and started to eat.
His sullen expression threatened to wilt her courage, which made her angry and determined. “The horse that Jon Hunter found must be yours,” she said, handing him the steaming bowl she’d prepared and a wooden spoon.
“I am sure it is,” he said sourly, taking it.
“I could help you get it back.” She scooped some milled flour onto a mat and then cracked an egg into it. “He must be keeping it in the pens behind his lodge. It is on the other side of the grounds, but not far and if the
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