Chapter 32: Voluntold

The next week and a bit was much the same as the last. The girls and I began to find the cardio mornings easier as our muscles healed every evening and we all started bulking up. Not that any of us had been out of shape when we had arrived. The twins had been hunters and farmhands in their village and, if I had to guess, each of them was fitter than I had ever been on Earth. And Laura? She easily would have kept pace with the Australian SASR before we started training here. And with my new body, an absence of fatty, sugary foods and the 10 hours a day of walking, fighting or training that I’d been doing for the last few weeks, well, I started at the Arena in top shape too.

And the healing had really started to show what I had hoped, well, what I’d predicted. It was something that I’d never imagined or seen in all the fantasy genre games and movies I’d played in my previous life, but every time I healed the microtears caused by Cort’s sadistic training, the muscle grew back stronger and stronger. In essence, the women and I were gaining bulk at twice the rate we had before, and after two weeks in the Arena, it was obvious we had grown stronger. I even saw Brendon squeezing his sister’s biceps in amazement and complimenting her on her newfound bulk. He challenged Rio to an arm wrestle, which she declined, and I think, despite issuing the challenge, Brendon was partially relieved.

“My sister’s going to be stronger than me soon!” he moaned in jest. “How am I supposed to be the protective big Ndugu when she’s got bigger muscles than me?”

We laughed at the man, who was built strong as an ox and was continuously training with whichever silver blade he could find to humour him. He had nothing to worry about; Brendon was one of the best polearm masters in the bronze blades, maybe even the silvers. With sword and shield he was fairly standard, but put a halberd in his hands and the man was a machine.

I was finding some sort of peace with the sword work; I’d always enjoyed fighting and the physical chess that one-on-one combat allowed. When I wasn’t trying to kill my opponent, it became a fun test of strategy and physicality. But something was missing. I found myself listless in the evenings. I wasn’t content. And when the world quieted after the lanterns went out in the barracks, I felt what I could only describe as homesick. I missed something, and I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. Yes, I missed my wife; I would never stop missing her. But Sasha had died months before I came to Dromin. There was something else…

But during the day, I had more pressing matters to attend. Cort’s training became more manageable and the sparring matches became easier as we weren’t physically wrecked by the time we got to them and, quite quickly, we were able to make the most of our drills. The only other change was Cort’s demeanour. He had started praising my work, complimenting my progress and treating me like a star pupil. It was strange, to say the least. With all the animosity of the first week and the blatant hatred, I was unnerved by this sudden reversal. It wasn’t just odd; it was suspicious.

Quietly, in a corner of the Arena, the three women and I had discussed the possibility of leaving Westfall as soon as the paper checks had been called off. But Gleeson and Commander Thorpe had information that Gregory, the knight who survived our forest encounter, was becoming increasingly annoyed that we hadn’t tried to leave the city yet, and was throwing his weight around to ensure that there was no way we could leave without being seen. He’d ensured the gates were not safe places for us and, whilst other secret passages existed out of the city, we were informed that it would be as dangerous to find those as to go through the main gates; those who controlled such hidden routes were not to be trusted. Honestly, I was surprised a bounty hadn’t been placed on my head, but with Westfall already under Arnias’ thumb and his popularity being so low, Laura suggested the population was more likely to hide fugitives than turn them in. From the Iron Shield’s point of view, a bounty would more likely become counter-productive.

So, we just stayed put and made the most of our time. That, in itself, was a blessing. Erica and Asha had no knowledge of the sword or halberd before coming to the Blades of Mondarin and the kind of training that Cort was putting them through would not normally have allowed them to progress quickly. We had all just been too exhausted after the relentless cardio he pushed to retain technical information. But the healing every evening allowed us to rest enough and survive the morning sessions to gain the basics of sword and shield, halberd and unit tactics. The twins were beginning to show real improvement, sparring against each other, taking challenges from other White Blades and focusing on the art of combat. For two women who didn’t want to fight, it was a complete turnaround. I was starting to finally enjoy the training, feeling like I could handle myself. Better still, we were learning to work as a team.

But Laura was quick to check my expectations.

“Most new recruits into military companies get that look in their eye,” she warned after I’d scored a ‘killing’ blow on Aaron, a fellow white blade. “I see a lesson in humility is in order. Do you want to try sparring against me?”

I shook my head, grinning, whilst helping Aaron to his feet. “No. I’d like to live today,” I joked as I left Aaron and took a drink from a carafe of water at the side of the ring. She looked at me with concern and spoke sternly, but softly.

“I’m not kidding; a little bit of knowledge is a dangerous thing. I’ve seen more than a few new recruits in the Iron Shield killed by common street thugs after they overestimated their new skills.”

I thought about it. Of course, I’d gone through the same thing with my Krav Maga and MMA training on Earth. I was quickly corrected by one of the older instructors and I remembered the lessons with a reflexive wince.

“Yeah, you’re right. Noted,” I replied to her seriously. “Ego has no place in training.”

The knight grinned and stepped forward to ensure we weren’t overheard. “There’s the 40-year-old back again. Keep him around, you’ll live longer.”

I nodded at her and we stared at each other for a while. Her eyes were a beautiful sapphire blue with flecks of gold and I found myself lost a little in them. Her face had softened from concern into something else I couldn’t quite place, and we stood there for a moment before she seemed to realise we were no longer talking and the walls came up again.

“Just make sure you keep it together. Overconfidence will kill you.”

I nodded again and spoke softly. “Thank you.”

In the evenings, the women in the barracks seemed to set up their own roster to get massages which were, supposedly, to provide plausible deniability for my relationship with the twins but, realistically, it was pretty clear the women were just enjoying getting pampered. I didn’t mind. I used the opportunity to heal the muscle soreness from training and promote their muscle growth. Most of them were already at the peak of their physical fitness, so I didn’t imagine them bulking out any more, but it was nice to make them feel better.

The men were more stoic. I imagine that they wouldn’t have minded if Laura or one of the elves had been giving the massages but, as it was, I had my hands full of women only.

I wasn’t complaining.

It was the end of the second week when, one morning, we were eating breakfast and Rio and Brendon came and sat down in front of us, looking apprehensive.

“Do you feel ready enough for a patrol?” she enquired cautiously, then clarified. “You have been placed on active duty.”

Laura stopped eating and looked alarmed. “That’s very fast. Are we short on blades due to injuries, an unusual amount of jobs taking precedence, maybe?”

But the ebony-skinned beauty shook her head. “Everything is as normal. And it’s not all of you, either.” She looked at me pointedly. “…only Mathew. I don’t know when or where; Cort will assign the duties tomorrow morning at seventh bell. On the upside, at least you will get paid.”

I’d been informed that you got paid in food, board and skills when training in the Blades of Mondarin. Whilst you weren’t taking jobs, the blades took care of your daily essentials. In return, you did anything you were asked, and if you were called, you were expected to take whatever job was thrown your way. The Blades would take a little over half of the fee, and you would get the rest. It seemed like a complete scam until I remembered the poverty in this city. Some people were working 12-hour or longer days to eat barely enough to survive and live in squalid conditions. The Blades promised hot meals, clean beds and, eventually, upward financial mobility once you could take jobs. So it made sense that people signed on and stayed. And you didn’t need to put yourself at huge risk either. Patrols, where Mondarin Blades filled in at times when the city watch couldn’t field enough men, were among the worst-paying jobs but that was because they were also some of the safest. But if you wanted to earn more, then there were protection details, private investigation contracts, debt collection jobs, monster hunting, which I was surprised to learn existed, bounty hunting, and finally, the one we were really interested in, caravan contracts. A caravan contract would allow us to go to Sterya, bypassing the paper checks, as Blades of Mondarin were considered law enforcement when displaying their colours, meaning ‘on a job’.

But it wasn’t uncommon for new recruits to spend their first month or even two in training before being allowed to take even a patrol route, let alone a caravan detail, which is why both Rio and Laura were beginning to look extremely concerned.

“There is a whole unit of bladelings who are untested; why choose him alone?” Brendon wondered. “There are twelve of us going out tomorrow. Apparently, a lot of the town watch are sick with the ‘Mascian Disease.’”

Laura chuckled. “In Mascius, they call it the ‘Norsilk Disease.’ The Norsilk horsemen call it the ‘Caravan Disease.’ And on the Isle of St. Stephan they call it the ‘Grixoninian Disease’. Everyone wants to blame it on somebody else.”

I winced. A similar trend had taken place with syphilis in medieval Europe. I hoped STIs weren’t extremely common here, but thinking back to the way the medieval world was… well it was probably a good idea to be careful. But once again, finding that my mind was wandering from the task at hand, I needed to think about what was in front of me.

“So essentially, I’ve been rostered on assignment, at least two-weeks early and ahead of other trainees who are more qualified? It’s suspicious at best. But if I ask Cort about it, he’ll just claim that he believes I’m ready. He’s my instructor so it’s his call to make. If I question it, he’ll call me a coward and try to reprimand me for insubordination or something.”

The nods around the table confirmed my suspicions. Laura obviously didn’t like it either; her face was twisted into a scowl that darkened her face as she thought.

“He’s been nice to you lately. He’s trying to hide something,” she mused grimly.

I agreed.

Training that day was tense. Cort was still unusually amiable, even praising my technique, and it made me distinctly uncomfortable. His approval filled me with shame and there was something triumphant about his demeanour. Years of analysing my performance when training as a concert pianist had made me hypercritical of my own skills. And I knew I hadn’t improved enough to warrant such praise. But I continued on, drilling with the others, learning formations, weapon combinations and sneaking glimpses of Gleeson, when he came down to spend his hour training the silver blades.

The dwarf was like water flowing around rock. But, interestingly, I saw something I hadn’t seen anywhere else on this world yet: grappling.

“He fights like you?” Laura whispered as we took a drink between bouts.

Gleeson had taken his weapon by the blade in a half-sword technique and was using it to control his opponent, grappling and tripping in ways that would have been at home in judo or jiujitsu.

“The Iron Shield aren’t taught to fight like that,” Laura mused.

“No,” I agreed, having seen the way the knights fought; they relied entirely on their armour to protect them. “But then again, they might not ever need to. I doubt many of your opponents would require you to know this style of fighting.”

Laura agreed, watching in awe as Gleeson disarmed his opponent—folding the wrist inward and forcing the man’s whole arm to form a ‘Z’ shape, twisting the forearm while controlling the elbow. The pain shocked the grip loose; the fingers opened and the sword spilled into the sand.

“Nikyō,” I whispered.

“Ni… ko?”

“Nikyō,” I corrected. “Second teaching.” I dredged up my old Aikido classes and worked through the arm movements. “Ikkyo, nikyō, sankyō… I only really learned the first few. Nikyō was my favourite: brutal for restraint. It’s mostly a wrist lock, but when the elbow’s trapped it feels like the whole arm is being wrung out. Easy to injure someone if you crank it.” I stopped when I realised Laura was staring at me. “…What?”

“I didn’t understand a word of that,” she chuckled, then a wild look came into her eye. “Show me.”

I checked the arena to make sure Cort wasn’t around, and found him absent. He tended to disappear when Gleeson was on the sand.

“Grab my shirt,” I instructed. She did, and a second later she was on her knees in front of me, wincing. With one hand, I’d pinned her grip to my chest so she couldn’t pull away. With the other, I struck her lightly on the chin. The tap pushed her head back, and as I twisted my opposite shoulder away from her hold, I stole her balance.

Her gripping hand stayed trapped against my tunic under my left palm. I formed a knife hand with my right and drew a line down her extended forearm as I stepped back. Her body lurched forward. In that instant, I folded her wrist inward into that tight Z and rotated it toward my core.

“Yield!” she cried in pain as her knees hit the dirt, and I released her instantly.

Laura stood quickly, rubbing her wrist and stretching it out. “I can see how that could be useful for restraint and submission. Teach me how?”

So whilst Gleeson trained the silver blades and, consequently, Cort was nowhere to be seen, I trained Laura in some basic Aikido techniques. It had been some time since I had used them myself, having long since favoured the more aggressive Krav philosophy and techniques for self-defence, but there was a peace in the flowing form of Aikido that I had forgotten. It was an enigma; both a martial art that could, if trained properly, be used to cause great pain but also be used as a meditation when slowed and practiced more like Tai Chi. I wondered if it was that meditation I had missed in the evenings, but I couldn’t be sure. There was a hole there which even the flowing forms of Aikido weren’t filling.

At the end of the hour, Laura looked pensive as she considered the techniques I’d shown her.

“I don’t think this would work outside of training. There is too much that can go wrong and spoil the technique. It’s too complicated to be effective in the chaos of real combat.”

I agreed. “Yeah, that’s a common critique of Aikido. There are those who swear it’s a practical self-defence system, but it’s really not.”

Laura looked exasperated. “Then why did you just waste an hour of our time training me on it?”

I looked at Gleeson finishing off the last silver blade as he tripped the man into the sand and locked out his sword arm.

My inner teacher kicked into gear. “Aikido teaches the fundamentals of body movement and the theory of joint locks. And it does so in extreme detail. It shows them clinically and allows you to see them clearly. We know real fighting doesn’t happen so cleanly, but think of it as theory that you can then integrate into practice. I’m not a great swordsman, but I am a good teacher. And one thing I know is that the knowledge behind how things work is as important as making them work.”

Laura accepted this and, when Gleeson left the arena to return to his normal duties and Cort returned, we resumed our regular training in unit tactics, halberd and sword work.

Unit training was completely different to how I had fought. Whilst Krav Maga taught rapid overwhelming force and the disabling of your opponent, Aikido had taught restraint and MMA had taught explosive power, they were all assuming the same thing; you were alone and anyone around you was an enemy. Which, in a world where most people didn’t know anything about fighting, was a fair assumption. If you had to fight, you were usually doing it alone.

But the Blades worked in teams of four or eight, the Iron Shield in units of ten, and many armies in companies of dozens, if not hundreds, and I quickly found that it was a completely different style.

The halberd work was all vertical movement, all on the same line and all designed to protect your front. The assumption was that your sides were protected by the person on your left and right. You only had to worry about your side if you were on the end. It was only now, after a week of drills, that the white blades had learned not to knock their neighbour out of formation with the butts of their weapons.

The unit work for swords was similar. Curved, rectangular shields were employed and layered as the unit huddled close together and moved as one. We drilled moving shield walls around the arena, periodically stabbing with our blades at a target, then closing the gaps again.

Cort was preparing us for war. Real war. Not honour combat, not duelling and certainly not mage-hunting. He ran us through battlefield tactics that included feints, encirclements and lures. I recognised some from historical battles I’d read through, but my knowledge was sorely lacking. And out of all the training we did, it was only here that I saw his actual passion for his work overpower his cruelty.

I could tell this kind of work excited him; it showed in the way he drilled it. He actually gave us instruction that mattered and, whilst the abuse for failure still came thick and fast, I found his instructional technique was far superior for unit and battle tactics than for individual sword work.

And with that, I finally realised why Thorpe had kept him around: Cort’s instruction was keeping the young blades alive. It was overly sadistic, immoral and undoubtedly abusive, but if the new recruits could survive the brutal training, they stood a much better chance of surviving a war.

“It doesn’t excuse him,” Erica whispered as I spoke to the girls about my thoughts that evening. “He’s still an abomination to life. Just because he’s skilled at something doesn’t mean he isn’t a monster.”

Laura and I looked at the elf girl with confusion. Erica had changed in the last week and a half. She had become more assertive, harsher in her language and, whilst nobody liked Cort, Erica seemed to have the hardest time of all of us being around the man.

“Hey, Erica, are you feeling okay? You seem like you’ve changed in the last week or so.”

“No, this is the real Erica… She’s always been the brash one, never backing down from an argument!” Asha said, smirking. “You’re finally back to normal.”

The young elf blushed. “Yeah, I went a bit silly there for a bit.” Erica suddenly hid her face in her hands and peered at me horrified through parted fingers. “Some of the things I said to you! Thank Bambinae you didn’t hold me to them!”

I chuckled as I remembered the night by the fire when Erica had made some very specific and carnal requests, like something out of a bad porn film. “Listen, none of us were truly ourselves after that fight. We were all just trying to survive. I look forward to getting to know the real you.”

Erica looked out cautiously from behind her hands. It was hard not to notice the crimson blush spreading from her face down her chest. “I was so afraid of losing you, I went a bit mad trying to make sure you wouldn’t leave me.” She took a deep breath and looked at Laura and her sister. “But three wise women straightened me out.”

Laura, Asha and I exchanged glances cautiously, not knowing who the third woman could be. Asha and Laura were obviously the first two and, at our confused looks, Erica took a moment, then explained.

“Do you remember the night when we first met Commander Thorpe? Well, when he said that Asha and I could work as servants in the laundry or kitchens, I had a… vision. A premonition? A… something. I guess it doesn’t sound that crazy seeing as everything we have been through, but… Bambinae spoke to me. She told me that if Asha and I didn’t learn to defend ourselves, if we weren’t prepared to fight and kill, then Mathew would die. He would die protecting us.”

She looked at me with a desperate panic in her eyes. “I can’t let that happen! I won’t let that happen! So I want to learn how to fight. I need to protect you. I still need you to be my master and love me…” and with that, she broke into tears, throwing herself into my arms and burying her head into my shoulder. I embraced her warmly and smiled at Laura who inclined her head in a thoughtful expression, but one that suggested she liked what she was hearing. No surprise that the knight was in favour of the twin becoming self-sufficient. Asha, of course, hugged Erica from behind and stroked her head to calm her distraught sister. The three of us sat quietly in an embrace as Erica slowly calmed down and the bottled-up emotions and stress she had been carrying eventually worked its way out, until she sat up, sniffing.

“Sorry, that was a bit sudden. But I’ve been torn up in knots worrying since we got here. What if I didn’t train hard enough? What if I was a useless fighter?”

Laura, who had sat quietly observing through the last five minutes, finally added her expertise.

“That’s the trick, Erica. What if? You’ll drive yourself crazy with that line of thinking. You’ll never be good enough to protect everyone you love against every threat. That’s not your responsibility and, frankly, it’s impossible. You just have to do what you can with the skills you have. You just have to make the most of what you have. And you are doing that. Just stay the course. Do what you are doing. Bambinae is right; you do need to learn to defend yourself and others, but it’s not healthy to land all the responsibility on yourself. The first rule of war is that good people die. The second rule is that you can’t change rule number one. Just work hard; the rest is out of your control.”

Erica nodded, that fierce determination returning to her eyes. “I can do that. Oh, I’m so relieved! I thought you would think I was crazy when I said Bambinae spoke to me.”

It was Asha’s turn to look embarrassed. “Actually, I think she’s been speaking to me too. Well, not speaking… but giving me… ideas? Thoughts?”

This didn’t shock me as much. I remembered back to the first few nights at the inn. Asha seemed to know the will of Bambinae; she seemed to understand things, like the limits of Bambinae’s power, or who we should reveal that power to. It hadn’t occurred to me before but, whilst I couldn’t remember most of the specifics of my conversations with Bambinae, one thing suddenly came back to me. Bambinae selected this time and place to put me in a position where I would meet women whom I would help, and who would be helpful to me.

“You know what she wants. You understand the meaning behind her words.” I smiled as I figured it out. “When Bambinae spoke to me directly, in a dream, I could always understand her meaning and her words. Whatever she said, it always came with perfect clarity, but communing like that cost her a lot of power. But you seem to have the gift of understanding.”

“So she’s speaking through Erica, and Asha is interpreting?” Laura surmised.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess we’ll see how it goes. Asha definitely had some insights when it was just the two of us.” I turned to the elves. “I believe you, both of you. Let’s keep an eye on it, keep our minds open, and we’ll see what happens. Just no more secrets, ok? We all need to know what is going on with each other if we are to make this work. That goes for any relationship.” I looked to Laura. “Whether that’s as part of a unit,” I turned back to Erica and Asha, “… or romantically.”

I kissed Erica chastely on the lips and then did the same to Asha. Both elves melted into my arms, grinning, and I chuckled as I looked up to Laura.

“What about you?” I asked, suddenly wondering if Bambinae had tried to speak to Laura at all.

The knight smirked, answering in her trademark clipped tone, but with a hint of humour in her voice. “I’m good, thanks. Twins might get jealous.”

I blinked slowly as I realised that she must have thought I was offering her a kiss.

Both girls looked up curiously as I felt my face filling with blood and radiating embarrassment.

“ImeanthasBambinaespokentoyouatall?” I rushed out, wishing the floor would swallow me up where I sat, and also recognising, curiously, that Laura didn’t seem as offended by the idea as I had expected.

But it seemed scarlet was the order of the day as all faces in our group were burning red with embarrassment. The knight’s eyes went wide and she seemed to be realising the implications of her misunderstanding.

“No,” she said, then quickly followed up in a mumble, “but I’m not sure that I’m part of her plan. The goddess wouldn’t have any use for a faithless Iron Shield knight.”

I glanced at Asha, who had twitched in my arms at Laura’s declaration. I could see her considering Laura’s words.

“No... I think you’ve already played a part in her plan. A very important part, and you’ll be needed again too. Don’t count yourself out of Bambinae’s will yet,” mused the blonde elf.

Laura didn’t look convinced.

But as we piled into our respective cots for the evening, I replayed the conversation in my head, over and over and analysed every micro-expression on the knight’s face until I wasn’t sure whether I was remembering what she had actually looked like as she spoke or what I just wanted to see. Was she a part of Bambinae’s plan? Did she want to be? It was obvious we were getting closer; what did she think about that? I didn’t imagine that she would ever be romantically interested in me, but then again, maybe I was wrong? The thought filled me with confusion and doubt. And I was still hollow. I needed something. Something that I had on Earth, something fundamental. I wasn’t lonely. I knew I was developing strong feelings for the twins. I knew I wanted to get to know them and love them. And despite that, it still felt weird to be romantically involved with two women. Was it really wise to add a third to that dynamic? And did I even feel the same about Laura as Erica or Asha? I smiled as I remembered the moments of closeness we’d shared recently. Small seconds of understanding in the madness of the last month. And then I almost laughed in the darkness as I recalled the embarrassment we’d both shared just ten minutes earlier.

Maybe there was something there after all.

But, despite all that, a small hole still remained.