Chapter 2: Andrew

The mid-winter festival was a two-week-long party. The hangover tended to last a few days, sometimes up to a week afterward’s depending on the weather. For Andrew, the party was a time for him to learn more about what he was getting into. He knew the Kingdom was odd in keeping a standing army at the ready. In fact, it was only a few decades old as a tradition and standard. The Ice Spine Kingdoms to the north could give the eastern realm problems as it was more spread out and couldn’t maintain the manpower needed to keep them out. The western realm was another matter entirely. Fairham’s Cove was a small, easy to control coastal plain, so the Northern neighbors did not intrude in force.

Andrew had made the two-day round trip to the area northeast of the city to look at what he was getting into in a week. Brena made the trip with him so he wasn’t alone. The training center looked run down in his opinion. The yards were overgrown with the previous years, maybe more, growth. The buildings had seen better days as well. One long, low structure they examined would have to be torn down. The roof had caved in halfway down its length from the snows piled up on it. The walls were buckling as well, so they would not hold up to any repairs to the roof. They had an infestation of termites and other wood eating bugs everywhere.

Brena had insisted they look inside several of the sturdier looking buildings. None of them had any furniture of any sort. The buildings had been stripped of any usable material over time. Brena had asked around the Thieves before they left to see them. She had learned it had been five years since the last training class had gone through the school. Andrew felt certain that he and all the others would end up rebuilding everything as part of their training. Andrew would have to leave two days before the start date to make it on time. He and Brena did not leave their room except to get some food for last two days before he had to leave.

The night before he left, he got with the rest of his friends, old and new. “I suspect several of us will be out of touch for quite some time,” Andrew said to the gathering. He looked at Ledger, “Please, try to avoid blowing up the city while training Ledger.” Ledger smiled and took a sip of his wine. “Also, and this is important, if you get even a hint of any of the gems in or around your training, make every effort to collect it and bring it here for securing and storage.” Everybody remained silent but nodded agreement.

He looked at Aco next, “I think you and I will have it the hardest as far as training goes. Combat arms are never easy nor fun.” Aco nodded in agreement. She suspected she knew what she would go through the first day. “Aston, have you heard anything from out in the wild lately?” he asked.

“I am getting trace thoughts from a little girl I met along the way to Tres,” Aston said. “I think I may have activated a latent power in her to mind speak by accident. She may make a break for it and come here once the thaw hits up in the hills. She doesn’t want to be a whore like her mother wants her to be.”

“Please tell her to be careful then. How about the following force, Tara?” Andrew asked.

“Nothing in several weeks now. She is laying low until spring,” said Aston.

“Good. When they arrive, Gareth should be able to get them settled.” He turned to the last two women, “Robin, Brena, study and learn. Anything you learn now will help us later.” Both just nodded they would. “I need to get a good night’s sleep, it may be the last I get for a long time.” Brena followed him to the elevator and spent one last night with her friend and lover. She let him sleep once he had given her his all, and then some. She planned to wake him in a way that he would really enjoy.

Andrew

Andrew spent a quiet night at a small inn by the odd name of the Drunken Brawler. It was only a few minutes from the small, old fort that was the in-processing center. He made sure he was woken at least an hour before dawn since he wanted to be early in line. He had grabbed a hard roll and a slice of sharp cheese and walked the few blocks to the fort. In the dark, he couldn’t see any details of the old stone and wood palisades of the old fort. The gate was long gone and would require the entire frame to be pulled and replaced. He was surprised to find a line already forming when he got there. He guessed at a rough count about fifty men and women had arrived before him. They waited in silence, not sure what to expect. As the sun crested the nearby hills, a woman in brightly polished armor came out of the gate and called all the women in line to follow her. In a few minutes, only the men remained. At his last guess, they were up to nearly four hundred men now. He looked back at the gate as twenty-five men in full plate armor marched out, clanking loudly like only full plate can clank. They lined up and a giant of a man followed them out. He was in brushed leather and had what looked like a high-rank tab on his arm. He had everybody’s attention when he yelled, “Form a line, single file now you worthless bits of shit, MOVE!” The line formed and Andrew found himself about midway in the line.

“Now, we will run you through getting paperwork, and physical checkups to make sure you will have the faintest hope of surviving the coming hell you are about to enter into. There will be NO talking while you wait!” He didn’t ask for a reply, he knew that what he would get at this point would only raise his blood pressure. The other members in armor were walking up and down the line, staring at some, hardly glancing at others. Andrew was standing straight and looking ahead, not allowing himself to be cowed if he could avoid it. Many of the men would look in the eyes and then quickly look away and down. Six of the armored ones stopped and stared at him while he waited. Not one word was exchanged, yet Andrew could almost swear he could tell a decision had been made about him. He would worry about that when the time came.

The line ended at a long, wide, two-story building. The line moved slowly, but steadily. He waited and soon was inside out of the cold wind that had kicked up while he waited. The buildings cavernous interior was well lit with large oil lamps hung from low rafters. The floor was hard brick and mortar, fitted together in a way that allowed water to flow across and toward the doors and not pool inside should the old roof leak. The building was one long, open room. The right side was where the troops waited. It was a walkway about ten feet wide, the ceiling ten feet high. A counter ran the length of the building. Manning the counter all along were men and women, each with a task to get the new recruits through as quickly as possible. The first four women asked questions, filling out the paperwork for each man in line that he would need. The only issue that came up was when Andrew gave his age. He said sixteen and the woman looked at him, then waved for one of the senior officers to come over.

“He is only sixteen sirs; he is under the allowed age.” She whispered this but was still loud enough Andrew could make it out as she said it. He felt his heart start to sink when the Officer looked over the papers, then looked at him. Andrew met his eyes but kept his expression as neutral as possible. “Age waived for this case.” He returned to his observation point and didn’t look back at Andrew again. She finished her questions, handed Andrew a stack of forms, then told him to move along to the next station. At the next station, he handed the top form to the man standing behind the counter. A few minutes later, he was handed a footlocker with his name and ID number burned on top of the lid. The form was returned with the first item checked off. The next station he was measured for uniforms. The woman that did the measurements noted he would need a hardwood cup to protect himself from harm. She also admired and commented on the size, causing him to turn red from embarrassment. This took a few minutes and he soon had six sets of tunics and pants. The next station provided the under-clothing, then cold-weather clothing. Tools, a one-man tent, bedroll, spare blanket, leather ground cover. The tools consisted of a shovel, an ax, a hand hatchet, a small pick, a set of nested pans, and a small kettle, a bucket to hold a gallon of water. Other gear included four water bottles, a heavy, wide belt with tie-on loops for tools, and a suspender set to hold even more tools. Each man also received a small sewing kit and first aid pouch. By the time he arrived at the last station, the locker was packed tight. Each station operator had placed the items in the box in a specific manner. They had all fit perfectly. Andrew wasn’t certain he could put it all back in the same way they had. At the last station, his feet were measured for the hobnailed boots he would be issued. When he inquired, he was told, “The boots need to be made first, you will get them by week five. Move along.” He moved and was shuffled out the door into the mid-day sun. Once outside, he was handed a small wrap of waxed paper. Inside, it had two hard crackers and a handful of dried meat. He was told to fill one of the water bottles from the water barrel by the door and fall in with the rest of the company. He was near the back of the company formation, so he only had a few minutes to force the dry food down, drinking as much of the water as he could handle.

When everybody was back on their feet and lined up with their footlockers over their shoulders, they were called to attention. Only a few of the men in the loose formation knew what they had to do. It was explained and one of the larger boys, he didn’t look old enough by a long shot, was the demonstrator. Stand up straight, heels together, toes pointed out slightly. Arms at the side, except for the one left holding the chest in place. Head up, shoulders back, chest out, eyes looking straight ahead. Once the Instructors were satisfied with the stance, they called the step on the march. Left foot to step off first, then following the called cadence. The Drill Instructor in the lead would guide them to their new homes, where they would be sorted out into the platoons they would be assigned to.

The senior knight in charge began calling off names. As each was called, they were lined up in groups of twelve. Each platoon soon had five squads of twelve men. Andrew waited and wondered how long this would take. As each platoon was filled, they were led off towards the area he and Brena had scouted a few days before. Andrew was called up in the fifth platoon, second squad. He fell in as ordered and remained still. He had his footlocker over his shoulder and stood waiting.

When the platoon was completed, three of the armored men walked over and began looking them over. Of the three, the smallest man of the three made him the most nervous. He had the look of a hungry weasel in his eyes as he studied each man before looking on. He was shorter than Andrew, but his form said he could wipe them all out without breaking a sweat. He had three stripes on his sleeve, so Andrew guessed he was a sergeant. He had a nameplate on his chest plate, Diaz. Dark skinned and eyed, scary as hell looking with that glint of insanity he had. Next was a larger man. His skin was as dark as night. He was a full head taller than Andrew and his shoulders were wider by a foot at least. He didn’t have the look of insanity Diaz had though, so Andrew didn’t feel as uneasy about him. His nameplate read Jackson. He had three stripes and a rocker under them, a higher rank he guessed. The third was a medium-built, fair-skinned man, not more than a few years older than himself. He only had two stripes on his shoulder. He looked strong and his eyes moved in quick, striking sweeps of the platoon. His nameplate said, Wilson.

Jackson stood in front of the platoon and began giving instructions about how they would march to their barracks. He also informed them they were to be always addressed as Drill Instructor. He explained the ranks and that they would do as they were told, or they would live to regret the mistake. The only reason they wouldn’t be killed outright was because of the paperwork involved afterwards. They were marched down a wide, dirt path that would need a fair amount of work to make travel easier and safer. Parts were covered in dead brush from the previous year. It was also washed out in a few places, leaving runoff gullies that could twist ankles or break legs if the traveler wasn’t paying full attention to the road. The march took fifteen minutes and ended in a clearing in front of one of the better-looking buildings he had seen. This one at least had a full roof on it. Each squad was led in and soon everybody was standing over a small section of the dirty, rotting wood floor. Andrew could tell the dirt was covering wood planking. It had blown and washed in since the last time the place had been used. The footlockers were set down in neat lines and everybody was standing in front of their box.

Drill Instructor Jackson began speaking, “Now that we have you here, this is your home for the next six months, should you survive that long.” He looked up and down the lines, pointed and Andrew found himself pulled out in front of the rest. “This private, what’s your name?” he snarled.

Andrew fought a panic attack down. After everything he had been through getting here, how were they scaring him so badly he wondered. “Private Markenin, Drill Sergeant!” The man seemed to radiate malevolence.

DI Jackson looked him up and down, frowned then spun back to the rest. “This Private will be in charge when we are not around to supervise you. He will be given instructions and will see that you lot carry them out. Give him any lip and he might break it.” He spun back at Andrew and said, “You and I are going to have a little talk later.” He looked at Wilson, “Fall them out in PT gear in ten. Time to begin killing them.” Jackson and Diaz left without waiting for a reply.

Drill Instructor, Corporal Wilson began giving instructions, “First, about-face to your foot lockers.” He watched as everybody turned around in a sloppy, slow manner. “No, no, no. That will not do at all,” he said sarcastically. “Get back as you were, I will instruct you on a proper about-face.” He pulled a tall, thin man to the center and walked him through the motions. It took five minutes and he yelled, “You have five minutes to be in PT gear and formed up out front. Get moving!” He turned his back on them and walked out. Andrew and a handful of others quickly began opening their lockers and locating the clothing they needed. The outfit was composed of shorts, a light shirt, long heavy woven winter pants, and a lightweight shirt. Shoes would be what they had on already.

Andrew was dressing and yelled for the rest to get changed as quickly as they could. Andrew was one of the first out, stopping at the door, yelling for the rest to get moving. Looking around, he told those that were outside to fall in ranks and wait. Andrew and six others fell into their squad positions and waited. At the appointed time, all three DI’s rushed into the building, half-dressed men came flying out through the open doors. They rushed to get back up and take their assigned places in formation, all the while, pulling on the remainder of the cold weather PT gear.

DI Jackson stalked out and glared at them, then began to yell. “That was pathetic. You had a full five minutes to dress and fall in and couldn’t even manage to complete that simple task.” His face took on a sadistically evil grin, “I guess we will just have to find a way to motivate you ladies to follow orders quicker now.” The run began. Andrew was used to a fast steady walking pace. The run had him gasping after the first half-hour. Nobody was willing to risk the wrath at this stage and fought to keep up. When one of the younger men fell out and stopped, he was grabbed and thrown at the runners and told to keep going or he would never be able to run again when they finished with him. They circled around the camps for another hour. Andrew did note that the other Platoons were in the same boat, being run into the ground for failure to move fast enough. He had a sneaking suspicion that even had they been out in the allotted time, the run would still have happened. When the run came to an end, the sun was well on its way down. Andrew felt like his lungs were on fire from the freezing air, and his feet felt numb. Several times puddles of meltwater had gotten on his boots and sucked the heat right out of them.

The torture did not end there though. They were introduced to the favorite exercise of the DI’s, the push-up. Push-ups, sit-ups, side straddle hops, bending, and twist that would make Aco gasp in pain. When they finished, they were told to fall out into the barracks. Even as the last man crossed the threshold, they were called to fall in out front again.

Again, they were too slow in the eyes of the DI’s. The run began again. This time with stops to perform other tortures to add spice to the run. The sun was near the horizon when they finished the second run. Andrew knew he needed water when they finished. They were fallen out into the barracks again. This time they were told to begin laying out their gear for inspection. They had ten minutes to be ready. One of the many items that had been added to the chest at the end was a set of manuals of instruction. Andrew quickly looked them over and found what he needed. It had pictures of how everything was to be placed on the sleeping mats since they didn’t have cots or beds yet.

“Everybody, grab this manual,” he held it up for all to see. “It has what we need to know on laying out our gear.” He followed the instructions, folding and rolling all the clothing as fast as he could to match the pictures. The written instructions helped, but he didn’t have enough time to complete the layout before the ten minutes were up.

Again, they were fallen out into the yard. Again, DI Jackson looked on at them as Diaz and Wilson tore apart all their gear, sending it out the doors and windows at random. They could hear the commentary and it wasn’t pretty. When the two men came out, Diaz nodded to Jackson and the orders came. “Get this shitty assed gear sorted and laid out right the fuck now you pathetic sacks of frozen shit!” He watched and waited as nobody moved. Andrew and a few others heard the faint, “And maybe they can learn.” “Fallout!” Jackson yelled at them.

One of the troops muttered, “How do we tell which belongs to each other?”

Another said, “By the numbers on them.”

Andrew called for everybody to grab a pile and fall into the barracks. “I will call the number and you come up and get your shit.” He pointed at three others, “Grab a pile and start calling, start with the mats so everybody can lay their gear as they get it back. Mats, then books.” He paused, then said, “Get going, we don’t have all night.”

It took close to an hour, but they got everything sorted and laid out. The light had faded as the sun had set and they were now working by torchlight. One of the younger boys that had been one of the first to finish was put on watch by the doors to give them warning of when, not if, the DIs came back. The boy called quietly that the three walking delegates of hell were coming. DI Jackson walked in, not waiting for everybody to be at their place at attention. He was holding a torch and looking like a demon from hell in the flickering light.

“I don’t even have to look to know that every last one of you has managed to fuck up the simple task of laying out your gear to task and standard.” He stalked to the back then back to the doors. “You will learn to follow instructions. You will learn to meet the standards of every task given. You will learn what is needed to enter the school to become a soldier, then if you are truly good enough, then and only then will you be able to enter the training that will begin you on the lifelong path of being a King’s Knight, a true protector of the realm!” He looked up and down the rows of men and boys. “If we are lucky, this class will finish with just under half of you here now. Those of you that don’t make it, well it means you are not cut out for the type of life you will be living. You will be tired. You will be hot. You will be cold. You will suffer pain and discomfort like none you have ever imagined in your life. The training is to weed out the weaklings, the ones that will get the stronger killed. It is not to be insulting, this is a cold, hard, fact.” He looked up at them, glaring in the dim torchlight. “You can hate me and the other instructors to hell all you like. We are here to find the strong, then forge them into a tool that will serve the Kingdom, protect its people, to uphold the laws of the King. You will learn, you will grow strong, or you will not be here for long.” He walked to the door and handed the torch to Wilson, “Get them set up for the night.” He leaned in and whispered something to the younger DI, who nodded. DI Diaz had not said a single word the entire day so far. He was there and that alone was enough to keep a person moving. He handed a sand glass to Wilson and stalked out, pausing only long enough to glare back into the room, then walked out into the night.

Wilson glared at them, then said, “Markenin, front and center.” Andrew was startled at being called on but quickly marched to the DI. When he stopped, Wilson said, “We will have lessons on how to report as ordered in a day or so. For now, you will oversee the fireguard duties.” He handed the torch and sand glass to Andrew. “This is a one-hour sand glass. Tonight, you are getting a generous seven turns of the hourglass. Markenin, you are in charge. I expect you to make sure order is kept and tasks and standards are followed and met at all times.” He did a smart about-face and marched from the barracks.

Andrew waited for a count of thirty then began to do the job that had just been dropped in his lap. “Squad leaders, over here at the doors.” When nobody moved, he said, “The man at the front of each squad line is squad leader, over here now, we have a lot to do and no time to get it done.” The five men joined him, “Here’s the deal, I need two from each squad to take fire watch. We will do it in pairs until things settle down a bit. They will about kill us at first, so pairs will be safer. You pick, send them here when you have them chosen, and plan to stand watch along with the others. Go.” The five men spent a few minutes with the men in their squads, trying to convince somebody to volunteer. Andrew saw this and spoke loudly enough for everybody to hear him. “I didn’t tell you to ask for volunteers. Assign the men and get them over here now.” The squad leaders pointed at two from each squad and sent them to Andrew. They were grumbling a bit but listened. “Here is what has to happen, two of you will help keep each other awake these first few nights.” He gave them hard looks when they started to object, “Wake me at each shift change of two turns of the hourglass.” Andrew pointed at two from different squads, “You two will be the first shift. You have to ensure this rotted old building doesn’t catch fire from the one torch you will keep lit all night, and the heating fires.” He pointed at the second and third shift, telling third, wake me half a turn before the end, then begin waking everybody up.”

“Why should we do that?” asked the larger of the third shift pair.

Andrew tried to keep any irritation out of his voice, “So we can have this place dress-right-dress BEFORE the DI’s get here to wake us. Now get some sleep, we are going to have some really long, hard days ahead of us at first unless I am reading this all wrong.” He went to his sleeping mat and lay back, covering up with the one-issued wool blanket.

For Andrew, the night was a long blur, being woken every two hours for the changeover. The last half turn proved to be harder than Andrew expected. He had told everybody what he wanted to do but getting them up to do it was proving difficult to say the least. He and the squad leaders had everybody up and their sleeping areas straightened up when the fireguard whispered the DIs were coming. Andrew had everybody standing at attention in front of their sleeping mats when the DI’s charged in, yelling and screaming at them to get up. DI Jackson had a metal gong he was beating on. Diaz and Wilson had buckets of cold water to splash on the sleeping troops.

Even as they charged in to wake everybody up, the three men froze in place, going silent when they realized the platoon was up, everything in place, waiting for the day to begin. Jackson’s eyes were wide as his temper began to boil, but he stomped it down hard and called, “Fall out in PT gear in five minutes.” He turned and stormed out, pausing long enough to say, “Markenin, with me, NOW!” Andrew followed the senior DI out of the building. As big as Andrew was, he was still picked up and slammed into the wall outside the doors before he could react to defend himself. DI Jackson was in his face now.

“I don’t know what kind of game you think you are playing boy, but I will break you if you make us look like fools in the eyes of the troops again. Am I quite clear, boy?” he snarled into Andrew’s face. Andrew resisted the urge to cringe away, the man’s breath was foul from what he had been drinking overnight.

Andrew looked the senior DI in the eyes, for an instant, something seemed to glow in them, a faint hint of an orange light coming from within. Andrew managed to remain passive and not show he had seen what he had suspected. His real mission had just begun. On seeing he had the big man’s attention, he quietly said, “I intend to have the best platoon in the company, so getting up and having everything ready is key to success Drill Instructor.” He did not fight back directly, but he did push back just enough that DI Jackson suddenly found himself holding a wall of muscle that seemed able to send him flying should the recruit decide to do so, DI Jackson released him and said quietly, with menace in his voice, “I will be watching you, boy. The first time you fuck up, I will hang your ass. Do you have that clear in your mind, boy?”

Andrew knew this man was not all there, “Clear DI.” The big man dropped him to the ground, nearly causing Andrew to fall back as his balance was off for an instant. Andrew returned to his sleeping mat to dress for another body-breaking torture session. This time, the body-breaking exercises lasted for two pain-filled hours. As the sun broke over the surrounding, distant mountains, the company was marched to a half-collapsed building. Andrew recognized it was the building he and Brena had stopped at a few nights earlier.

The DI’s gathered around the front of the rotted and ruined structure. One of the junior instructors came back at a run and delivered the news that made them even less happy than they already were. The company sergeant in charge called the gathered platoons to attention. He then proceeded to deliver the bad news.

“This building used to be the showers and hygiene center. As you can see,” waving back at the ruin, “it has been wrecked by time and weather, and a few thieves.” He looked around. “Worse still, the heater stones that had been gifted to the crown have been stolen. This means we have to heat water by an open fire until the enchantress can be located to produce new heaters for the water tanks.”

Andrew was almost ready to fall over from suddenly wanting to laugh so badly. He was standing at the front of his platoon, so the old man saw his efforts to not laugh. “You find this funny, troop?” he screamed at Andrew.

Andrew was not sure which sort of response would earn him more-or-less torture at the hands of the sadistic bastards that were the instructors, so he hedged. “Yes and No Senior Sergeant.” He said, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

“Really, why do you find it humorous and not at the same time,” he said, turned and stepped away, then spun back at Andrew, “Care to enlighten us?”

Andrew saw the trap and an out now, “I know of who created the heaters you had, and I know that she is half a year’s journey from here now.”

“Really, and how would you happen to know of this?” His eyes had a look of madness in them now. Andrew had to wonder if all the knights of the realm had gone insane at some point recently. He spotted the faint glow behind the right ear as the man turned away. Andrew again forced himself to not react to this discovery.

“At last word, she and her husband are with my family in the far Southern Plains Guard.” Andrew paused, “Minda’s son, Ledger Fireham, who happens to be even more talented than his mother, is here for advanced training.”

The senior Sergeant glared, snorted, then went on, “Where might he be at this moment?”

“He is residing at the Broken Sword, as to his schooling, I am not certain,” Andrew said, all the while fighting to keep a straight face.

“Are you finding this situation funny, Boy?”

Andrew stood still and fought to keep from smiling but failed, “Drill Instructor, Ledger can make new plates for you right away if you contact him.”

“And how do you know this, Andrew Markenin?” the big dark-skinned man snarled into Andrew’s face.

“I and others traveled with him from Terin’s Crossing, Drill Instructor!” Andrew was fighting for control. He had grown so used to having Bloodrend to help him in these situations, he was having trouble alone.