Part 9

After the fight with Sgt. Drakan the other recruits were very quiet for the rest of the day.  It wasn’t until dinner that anyone spoke to her. 

Nika sat down across from her with her tray and she was followed by Yuro, a man with a reputation for being smelly and another female, Bosha who always complained that people were stealing her stuff and then found whatever was lost a few minutes later. 

“That was amazing, Grez,” Nika said.

“Yeah, I can’t believe you’re that tough,” Bosha said. 

She thought they would have been angry that she was better than them. 

“Though I don’t think you made friends with some of the males,” Bosha said.

Bosha pointed over to the far table where Hyrin and some of the other males sat.  They were whispering and casting glares at her. 

“You were really a gladiator?” Yuro asked.

Greza nodded. 

“You fought?  Did you kill anyone?” Yuro asked.

Greza nodded. 

“Yuro!” Nika said.  “Don’t ask her questions like that.”

“Why not?”

“Just don’t.”

After dinner they marched back to their barracks and she hurried to the female quarters to avoid any confrontation with the other recruits.  Having been around males she knew they were always struggling to prove they were on top of the pile.  Her victories today would be a challenge. 

She took out of her footlocker a knife and a piece of wood.  During time off like this she often spent it carving a necklace like the one Erinad had.  She wanted a symbol for the faith. 

Nika came in a while later and sat at the foot of Greza’s bunk. 

“What you got there?” Nika asked.

“It will be a necklace.”

Nika leaned over to get a look. 

“I’ve seen that symbol before.  Isn’t that some religion no one believes in anymore?  That’s right.  The Lost Victor.”

“I believe in it.”

“But how?  The Promised Victor was killed.  Those gods can’t protect us.  If they couldn’t protect their own Promised Child, then what good are they?”

“The Promise hasn’t been broken yet.  And on each side he shall be flanked by his trusted companions, a mighty bull and a storm raven.”

“What was that?”

“A passage from the Revelation Cycle of Therin Aldus.”

Nika’s eyes went wide.

“You’re educated.”

Greza nodded. 

“I am.”

Nika leaned back onto her elbows and her eyes stared out at nothing. 

“They wouldn’t let us learn to read.  Our lords said peasants didn’t need to know how to read.”

“You’re from the empire, yes?”

“Farmers.  Hundreds of generations of farmers.  My father was a pig farmer.  I hate the smelly things.”

“You run away?”

“Kind of.  I told them I was leaving and they didn’t stop me.  You did, didn’t you?”

“They all realize I was a slave?”

“I don’t think so.  I only know because we had a noble stop by our farm to water his horses and he had a gladiator with him.  He was a large man covered in scars.  We heard the noble talking.  You have any scars?”

Greza pushed up the sleeve of her shirt to show off the three large scars on her shoulder and bicep.  Nika winced. 

She knew if the others found out, they’d mock her even more. 

In the morning she was ignored by most of the men.  The females all sat at her table now but the men wouldn’t joke with her anymore.

After breakfast they went out for morning formation.  Sgt. Drakan had the others fall out and go over to the “field” for training but he kept Greza off to the side.  He said he had “something different” for her. 

Once he had the other recruits situated he told Greza to follow him.  He didn’t say where they were going and she wasn’t about to ask. 

He took her inside the fort and up some stairs.  This part of the fort had more decorations and comforts.  There were rugs on the floor, weapons hanging on the walls and fireplaces that kept the morning chill out. 

They passed by older soldiers that were relaxing and talking of old times.  None of them paid her a second glance. 

Then they came to a room with a larger than usual door. Sgt. Drakan shouldered it open and waved her in. 

Inside were several soldiers in padded training armor.  They were practicing with wooden swords and hand to hand. 

One of the trainees walked up to Sgt. Drakan.  

“This the recruit you told us about?”  The human with a pointed beard asked.

“It is, sir.”

Sir?  That meant this man was an officer.  She was in a room full of officers.  In the Empire only nobles could be officers and she wondered if it was the same here. 

She did not want to fight for the amusement of officers. 

The man with the pointy beard looked her over. 

“She doesn’t look like much,” he finally said. 

“She beat me easily, sir.”

This raised an eyebrow from the man. 

“Very well, sergeant.  I’ll take your word on this.” 

Greza still had no idea what she was doing here.

The officer walked away and began calling his fellow officers together.  Drakan turned to her.

“Greza, I want you to teach these officers how to fight like you do.”

“Train nobles?”

“They’re not nobles.  Some of them are, but not all and the ones that are don’t have lands anymore.  Right now, think of them as your students.  When you teach, you’re in charge.  I’ll be here to help you, but the show’s yours.” 

Greza turned to face the now assembled group of officers.  Talking was not one of her strong abilities and talking down to nobles even less so. 

She closed her eyes and tried to think of what to say. 

She thought back to her first days of training.  She remembered the beatings and the harsh discipline but she waved all that aside and tried to remember what her trainer had said. 

“When you fight you have to destroy your opponent with ruthless, sudden and deceptive violence.  You must not show mercy,” Greza quoted.  “Mercy will cause hesitation.  Hesitation will kill you.  Do not give your opponent a moment to size you up. Attack and take them off guard.”

“How about a demonstration?”  One of the female officers asked.

“A match?” 

“Yes!  Show us what you mean so we can understand it better,” an Elf officers said. 

“You just volunteered then,” the man with the pointy beard said. 

The officers laughed but the Elf stood and walked up to her. 

“Choose whatever weapon you like,” Greza said. 

The man chose a sword.  Swords gave the wielder reach, but that was it.  Once she closed the distance all their advantage was gone. 

The fight lasted only a few seconds.  She came in, tackled him in the waist, knocked him to the ground and brought her fist within inches of his face. 

She fought two more matches to show exactly what she was capable of and that winning so quickly was no fluke. 

After that they were much more inclined to hear what she had to say.  She stuttered and spoke in halting, quotes from her former trainer, but after two hours she had then in basic drills that she remembered doing for days. 

Sgt. Drakan had left somewhere along the way; probably to go check on the recruits. 

By dinner the officers were exhausted and were covered in sweat. 

The pointy beard man came up and put a hand on her shoulder.

“That was most educational,” he said.  “You must return tomorrow and teach us more.”

“Yes, sir.” 

“Excellent job.  No, go on back to your unit, soldier.”

Soldier?  Did they not know she was a recruit?

Still, she was glad that she hadn’t embarrassed herself.  They seemed to be learning a lot.  It was strange to have her superiors listening to her.  She knew she didn’t speak well and stumbled over the clumsy words she used. 

Speaking in front of important people was something she would never get used to or be good at.