Dorran picked ten children before breakfast.
He walked the line of thirty in the Keep yard. He touched each shoulder once, lightly, and he did not speak until he reached the tenth.
“Please come to the yard after bread,” he said. “I am sorry about the cold.”
Calen watched from the gate post. He had not told Dorran which ten to pick. He had not told him anything about the Second Intake that Dorran had not already read from the Board’s file. Dorran had read all thirty files in one night, without stopping once.
“Ten,” said Calen.
“Ten is enough to start.” Dorran looked at the wall, not at Calen. “Sorry. I know it is not many.”
The ten sat on the cold flags in a half ring after bread.
Hetta sat at the end of the row with her hands folded in her lap. She had counted the flags before she sat down. Calen could tell from her eyes.
