‘“Fairdawning, Kaspar. Kaveh.” The abbot nodded to the older lad, then the younger beside him. “This is Gabriel de León, a new recruit to the Order.”
‘“Fairdawning, Gabriel,” Kaspar said, grasping my hand.
‘“Godmorrow, Kaspar.” I nodded, looked to his brother. “Kaveh?”
‘“Apologies,” Kaspar said. “My brother was born tongueless. He does not speak.”
‘The younger lad stared at me as if in challenge, and I could guess why. In superstitious parts of the empire, such affliction might have been taken as the taint of witchery, the babe burned, his mother beside him. But my mama had taught me such thinking was folly, born only of fear. That the Almighty loved all his children, and that I should strive to do the same. And so, I offered my hand.
‘“Well, I’m not that interesting to talk to anyway. Fairdawning, Kaveh.”
‘The lad’s scowl softened as I spoke, and as our palms met, his lips curled in a smile. Abbot Khalid grunted approval, called out across the stables in his warm baritone.
‘“And a fairdawn to you also, Prioress Charlotte. Sisternovices.”
‘Following the abbot’s eyeline, I saw a half-dozen figures around a stack of feedbags – Sisters from the Priory above, I realized. They were all clad in dove-white novice robes and coifs, save a severe-looking woman in a black habit, who stood where the others sat. She was older, so thin she was almost gaunt. Four long scars cut down and across her face – as if she’d been attacked by some wild animal.
‘“Godmorrow, Abbot.” The woman glanced at her charges. “Give blessing, girls.”
‘“Godmorrow, Abbot Khalid,” the sisters sang, all in unison.
‘“This is Gabriel de León,” Khalid said. “A new son of the Ordo Argent.”
‘I kept my head bowed out of respect, but looked the sisters over through my lashes. All were young. Sitting on the bags with blocks of paper on their laps, charcoal sticks in hand. They’d been drawing the horses, I realized. I noted a novice among them so slight she seemed almost a child, with big green eyes and freckled skin. And seated at their forefront, like an angel fallen to earth, was one of the most beautiful girls I’d ever seen.’
Jean-François rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair.
Gabriel looked up and scowled. ‘Problem?’
‘I said nothing, Silversaint.’
‘I heard a distinct groan just now, coldblood.’
‘The wind, I assure you.’
‘Fuck off,’ Gabriel growled. ‘She was beautiful. Oh, perhaps not the kind you’d find hanging in a portrait gallery or gracing some rich bastard’s arm. She wasn’t a beauty you wrapped in silk or hid inside a golden bower. But I can still recall the sight of her that afternoon. All the years between then and now, and it seems only yesterday.’
Gabriel fell so still he seemed a mirror to the vampire opposite. Even the monster seemed aware of the weight in the air, sitting patiently until the silversaint spoke again.
‘She was older than me. Seventeen, at a guess. A beauty spot was placed as if by the Mothermaid herself, just to the right of her lips. One eyebrow was arched higher than the other, giving her a constant air of mild disdain. Her skin was milk; her cheek, the curve of a broken heart. There was no perfection to her. But her asymmetry commanded … fascination. She had the face of a half-heard whisper, of a secret unshared. She sat with a block of parchment in her lap, partway through a beautiful drawing of a big black gelding.
‘Abbot Khalid looked at her work. It was hard to tell with his scars, but I realized he was genuinely smiling. “You’ve a keen eye and a keener hand, Sisternovice.”
‘The girl lowered her eyes. “You honour me, Abbot.”
‘“’Tis the Almighty that guides our hands,” Prioress Charlotte said, with a disapproving glance at the young sister. “We are merely his vessels.”
‘The girl looked up to her prioress and nodded. “Véris.”
‘I knew I shouldn’t gawp. On the road to San Michon, Greyhand had told me silversaints swore vows of celibacy, for fear we might perpetuate the evil of our birth and make more paleblood abominations like ourselves. After what I’d done to Ilsa, I confess that the thought sat well enough with me. I could still see the terror in her eyes if I tried, and the horror that I’d hurt her haunted me still. I’d no desire to touch another girl as long as I lived, and these weren’t just girls, either – these were novices of the Silver Sorority. Soon to be married to God Himself.
‘But still, something about this girl drew me in. As I watched, her eyes flickered up and met mine. I didn’t look away. But surprisingly, neither did she.
‘“Well, Godmorrow, godly daughters.” Khalid bowed. “Mothermaid bless.”
‘“Fairdawning, Abbot.” The prioress snapped her fingers. “Back to work, girls.”
‘I broke my stare, and the abbot clapped my shoulder, led me to the stable’s heart. And all thoughts of raven-haired sisternovices fled my head at what I found there.
‘A throng of horses waited in a wide pen. They were tundra ponies from Talhost – that hardy breed known as sosyas. Smaller than their Elidaeni cousins, sosyas have shaggy coats and stomachs of iron, ideally suited to the years of privation that followed daysdeath. Those bastards will chew on anything. I once knew a man who swore blind his sosya ate his fucking dog. These beasts seemed of the finest stock. But as I stood admiring them, again I caught that whiff of decay. And looking up, I finally discovered its source.
‘“Mother and Maid …”
‘Two wretched coldbloods were hanged from the ceiling. An older male, thin and rotten, and a boy, no older than I. Their skin was pallid, their clothes were rags, and their eyes burned with hunger and malevolence as they glared down at me.
‘“Have no fear, de León,” Khalid said. “Bound in silver, they’re helpless as babes.”
‘Looking close, I saw that the vampires were strung up by silver chains, swaying like ghastly chandeliers. The grooms and sisters and even the animals themselves seemed entirely unconcerned. And at last, I realized why these coldbloods were here.
‘“You keep them for the horses …”
‘“Just so,” the abbot nodded. “God’s creatures cannot abide the presence of monsters of the night. But these steeds are meant to bear us into battle against the dark. So, we expose them early and often, that they become accustomed to the evil of the deathless.” Khalid gave one of his scar-face smiles. “You’ve a sharp mind, Little Lion.”
‘I nodded, seeing the wisdom in it. The abbot handed me a few sugar cubes – a luxury since the crops had all failed, but one that San Michon could apparently still afford with the Empress’s patronage. “Take your pick, son.”
‘“God’s truth?”
‘Khalid nodded. “A gift, for your trials to come. And mind you choose well, lad. This horse will bear you into battle against all the horrors that call the dark home.”
‘“But then … how should I decide?”
‘“Trust your heart. You’ll know the one.”