Chapter 29: Initiation

The city gate checks the next day were surprisingly anticlimactic. The Blade officers emptied their barracks onto the street before daybreak with bellowed orders and sharp commands. We were obviously not included in today’s operation. Men snapped to attention and moved quickly, but without rushing, into formation in the Arena square.

“Slow down! Smooth work is swift work!” yelled a man at a passing soldier as he rushed faster than his CO believed was necessary. I watched, from well out of the way, as armoured men were handed polearms and formed into four-man teams.

They were armoured in a mixture of brigandine and heavy gambeson, with plate armour on their shoulders and upper arms. Each man wore a wide-brimmed kettle helmet with an open face.

“A Blade Lieutenant or higher rank is assigned to each group of men,” narrated Laura, noticing my interest. “In city operations, smaller units of four to six are used as they can operate more freely in the smaller areas. In escort missions, they would use larger units.”

We watched the men being given locations and slip quietly out into the dark, early morning air.

“The sword emblem on the pauldrons varies,” I noted. “Is that how they signify rank?”

Laura nodded. “The colour of the sword indicates how accomplished the warrior is in combat. White is the lowest, then it increases to Copper, Silver and Gold. The symbols around the sword are given the same colour but indicate their rank within the organisation. We’ll probably have to learn the nuances of each if we are serving with them but, basically, if there’s more stuff around their sword than yours, they outrank you, regardless of the colour.”

It was simple and effective, I guessed. And I saw a lot of men with plain, unadorned white and copper blades on their pauldrons. Every now and again an older man or woman would bark orders and I saw a pauldron with additional symbols, but for the most part, there wasn’t too much variation.

There wasn’t much time to compare either. The men and women in the Arena were marshalled quickly, given their orders and dismissed to their duties with surprising efficiency and before the sun had risen, the Arena was empty and quiet.

“Master,” spoke Erica, softly, from behind me. I had been so engrossed watching the men I hadn’t even heard her approach. “It’s time to see the Commander.”

That meeting was short. The Commander was already sporting full plate and fixing a large bastard sword to his belt when we got to him. There was a sour-looking soldier standing at attention when we entered, and I was initially unsure as to whether the tail end of this conversation was meant for our ears or not.

“With respect, Sir. I would be a more valuable asset with you in the city. This emergency operation will require my attention,” he paused slightly, “…as your second.” It was then I noticed this soldier was one of the very few I had seen who sported a silver blade on his pauldrons.

The Commander shook his head. “I am no longer considering applicants for that position, it has been filled. You will retain your current duties.”

“WHO?” The man exploded and the Commander raised an eyebrow before his subordinate had the sense to check his tone.

“Sir, if I may enquire, who was the successful applicant? I understood that… there weren’t many in our chapter with the requisite experience and training.”

At that moment Gleeson appeared in his suit of full plate and carrying his bearded axe. How the dwarf could move in that much metal I couldn’t figure, but he nimbly stepped through the door and saluted with an audible crack as metal plates slapped together.

“Blades are deployed, Sir. Your command route has been set, I’ve taken the liberty of leasing the market bell-tower for the day, it gives the best sightlines for you to oversee the city. I’ve assigned two teams of signalmen from the White Blade Corps. One for northern operations, one for the south. We have also hired four young lads as relay messengers for the day.”

Thorpe’s smile widened proudly as the other man looked incredulously at the dwarf.

“Platinum Blade Gleeson of Clan Firespit—meet Silver Blade Warden Cort.”

Gleeson looked the man up and down with interest, but received only barely contained shock and anger in response.

“Well met, Blade Warden. Today, I have need of your services in the arena to train some new recruits,” spoke Gleeson, “I’ll be looking forward to working with you later to train the men, until then, we have an operation to conduct. Dismissed.”

Cort was speechless and stared at the two officers for a solid moment, then stuttered out a ‘Yes, Sir’ and disappeared in a huff through the door.

Thorpe and Gleeson shared a look which suggested that they had been expecting the less-than-positive reaction from the Blade Warden, then Thorpe waved us in and spoke quickly.

“Stay in the compound, don’t go into the city for any reason. Blade Warden Cort will handle your training today and gauge your abilities with the sword. I anticipate you will all be white blades,” he looked across to Laura, “with the exception of yourself, of course, probably a high copper or maybe even a silver.”

She inclined her head slightly in the affirmative, it seemed she agreed.

“As for you two,” he gestured to the twins, “we don’t field specialist archers… all our soldiers need to be able to fight in close combat and at range. But we won’t try to make draught horses out of destriers, so Cort will figure it out.”

Gleeson interrupted. “Sir, we need to go, the caravan will be leaving soon, and once they hit the gates, we’ll need you at the top.”

Thorpe nodded and moved off, snatching a wad of parchment scrolls from Gleeson, who had lifted them off a nearby table and held them out for him. The two shared a brief smile and then he was gone. As the dwarf turned to us, I recognised the shining white sword on his pauldron. It wasn’t painted on like the others, it was a gleaming, lustrous white metal, and I hadn’t seen anything like it since arriving. Even though the Commander’s pauldron had sported a gold sword, adorned with all the symbols Laura had told me to expect from a high-ranking officer, Gleeson’s plain pauldron looked more impressive. He was apparently Thorpe’s second in command and had nothing but this unadorned, platinum sword, expertly fixed onto the pauldron. That meant something. I just didn’t know what.

“So you were a Blade of Mondarin?” I asked Gleeson.

“I AM a Blade of Mondarin,” the dwarf corrected me. “And despite you saving my life, we are now in the difficult situation where you are below me in the chain of command. I won’t ever forget what you did for me, but I’ll expect that you don’t make this awkward in front of the other Blades.”

I smiled. “Yes, Sir. I appreciate the opportunity you have provided for us, Sir.”

He smiled. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Go find the Blade Warden. Dismissed.”

I liked Gleeson. He was honourable, practical, and he looked like he could single-handedly bench-press a house. Laura hadn’t mentioned the significance of a platinum blade ranking at all, and I didn’t know what he had done to gain the respect of the Commander so wholeheartedly, but whatever it was; I’d believe it.

Blade Warden Cort, on the other hand, was an arsehole.

“Where the fuck have you been? I’m missing the biggest military mobilisation in months for you worthless fucks. The least you could do is hurry up,” he growled at us. “Salute when you meet an officer for the first time! Stand at attention.”

We all snapped salutes and he looked over us with disdain.

“I’m responsible for turning you into soldiers. Not fighters. Not knights. You need to learn how to work as a unit as well as individually. Commander Thorpe has told me that your sword work is mixed at best. You’ll show me what you have and I’ll give you a rank. I don’t expect I’ll be handing out anything other than a rough slash of white.”

He started with cardio. We ran 20 laps of the large arena perimeter. The entire complex was built like a Roman coliseum with 360-degree terraced seating above a sandy circle. It wasn’t as big as a cricket ground or Aussie Rules ground from back on Earth, but still about 100 metres long and at least 70 metres wide.

After laps, it was lifting and carrying heavy stones across the arena. By mid-morning we were clad in what Cort described as ‘training armour’ and it was nothing more than raw steel plates hung around our bodies in a crude harness. It jostled and slapped against our muscles and pinched the skin. Once it was all attached, there were ladders to climb, a pool to wade through, a mud pit to run through, and all the time the Blade Warden was shouting at us how we were worthless and useless.

Laura alone was spared the worst of his tirade. It seemed like she got lost in the training and put her mind into a state of semi-hypnosis. She was aware of the orders Cort was yelling, but other than that she just worked like a machine. It didn’t give him much to criticise.

Asha collapsed into the sand after three hours of gruelling, incessant training. Whilst she was fit, she’d never been pushed like this. I couldn’t fault her, but Cort barked angrily.

“Get up, bitch! This isn’t some elven harem where your slit does all the work.” He began striding across to her with malice in his eyes. I could recognise a power trip when I saw one and it wasn’t just me—Erica’s fists were clenched in rage at the way he had spoken to her sister. I could see her coiling to lash out at the man, which wasn’t going to end well for her, so I stepped forward and blocked his path.

“With due respect, Sir. Asha has never been tested like this. She will need time for her body to adjust to the additional strain.”

The man snarled at me and raised his fist to backhand me.

I let him.

I’d been hit before in training, I could be hit again. He snarled something derogatorily at me after he saw me take the back of his hand without so much as a flinch. It hurt like buggery, but I wasn’t going to let him see that. But then, when he lifted his hand to strike Asha, well; that wasn’t going to happen.

I pulled him away fiercely and spun him backwards, positioning myself between them as he tripped and fell into the dirt.

“I understand the necessity for hard training and simulating combat. And I can understand having to hit us as part of our conditioning. We’ll need it. But if you ever raise a hand towards any of these women in anger, I will end you.”

Cort picked himself up and glared at me.

“You dare touch a superior officer?” he growled. “Learn your fucking place!”

The man leapt forward quickly and swung at me with incredible speed and strength. Had I any idea he could move that fast, I would have moved forwards to slip the attack. As it was, I barely had time to take a step back and put up enough distance to redirect his cross away from my nose. I felt his knuckle cut the side of my face as it glanced off my cheekbone. His second fist came at me wildly in a giant arc and I leaned back to barely avoid the seasoned soldier taking my head off.

He spun, backhanding me with his right fist as I recovered from dodging his left. The blow spun me around and into Laura who caught me and turned me around to face him again as I tried desperately to remain conscious. Cort was looking pleased with himself, smiling sadistically.

“Even if you win, you’ll lose,” Laura whispered behind me. “He won’t hit her now. Stand down.”

I nodded.

I was exhausted. Three hours of non-stop training had my muscles aching like jelly. I could barely stand, it was no wonder that Asha had collapsed. I held my hands up, took a step back and dropped to my knees.

“I surrender.”

Cort snarled and looked at me with hatred. He kicked me hard in the chest and I dropped to the sand in pain. “You cunts can go run another mile in armour for his ‘chivalry’,” he dragged me by the tunic to toss me over a rack. “Ten lashes,” he snarled, “and if you cry out, I start at one again.”

He got to start again a lot.

By the end of the day the elves were dragging their feet across the sand barely able to lift the wooden training swords they had been given. Erica swung weakly, but determinedly against the target, the fire that I’d seen the night before still flickering in her eyes but, in reality; she was done. The only one of us who wasn’t a complete wreck was Laura. Of course, she’d been broken like this before and wasn’t going to let the harsh training faze her.

For my ‘chivalry’, Cort had denied me the chance to spar and simply assigned me a white blade. I wasn’t under any illusions that I would be anything higher, but the loss of a chance to wipe the smug look off his face was annoying. Cort had then destroyed the two girls in their sparring matches, and both had severe bruises and cuts on their arms, face and legs. The sick fuck was using the training to inflict as much pain on them as he could reasonably get away with. Sadistic bastard.

As I took my only allowed break to watch Laura spar with Cort, the two circled each other with intense concentration. Laura was clearly Cort’s equal in combat, but the Blade Warden was fresh and Laura had been worked to breaking point all day. She was determined and focused but, worst of all, she was angry. She’d been as enraged by Cort’s treatment of the twins as I had been, and she was trying to get one back for all of us.

The two clashed and Cort came swinging hard and fast. Laura defended well, but she was exhausted and her muscles simply didn’t have the speed or strength left in them. Cort knocked the training sword out of her hands and push-kicked her into the dirt. Laura fell back with a grunt and raised her hands to yield, but Cort continued and brought his wooden sword down into her clavicle, breaking it with a sickening crack. The exhausted knight bit back a scream, grunting in agony as the twins and I leapt to our feet in anger.

“She yielded!” Erica screeched in rage.

The man himself briefly looked shocked, as if he hadn’t meant to go that far. But then the bastard covered his surprise with a sneer.

“Take your cunt to the infirmary,” snarled the Blade Warden to me. “Your induction is done. Tomorrow you will begin training with the white blades.” He looked disgusted at Laura. “If you can’t fight tomorrow, you can fuck off back to wherever you came from. You’re brittle and useless if you break from a love tap like that.” And with that, he stormed off, throwing his training sword at the rack where it clattered off the other weapons to the ground.

I limped over to Laura, my back still bleeding from where I’d been whipped earlier in the day. I’d taken probably 30 lashes before I’d learned to grit my teeth through it. With a significant effort, I ran a touch of healing through her shoulder to at least realign the bones so they would knit better. That effort alone almost blacked me out. After waking that morning, I hadn’t had time to pray to Bambinae… no. That’s not right. It would be more accurate and honest to say I had completely forgotten to pray to Bambinae due to all the excitement watching the men assemble and move out. And, after training all day, I didn’t have anything of myself to give her either so, for now, I had very little power available and it would have to do.

I supported her by her good shoulder and sat her up. A collar-and-cuff-style sling was all I could do for her now. And she quietly sat, stoic, but face pale with the pain, allowing me to work before we took her into the infirmary to rest.

There was no doctor, nurse, medic or anyone else there to help us as we’d seen the chapter’s infirmary staff being assigned to the day’s operations, but there was fresh linen, bandages and salves which Laura to direct us to. She told us which poultice was for which type of injury and, pretty soon, the four of us were resting, bandaged and sore on the infirmary cots.

And, with all of us finally patched up, we slumped into an uneasy, exhausted sleep.