Whether his beating stopped because Droog came enough to his senses and feared killing him, or because his arm got too tired to continue, Drew did not know nor care. He was just grateful that the beating finally stopped. The experience was dreadful and alien to him. His parents had never so much as raised a hand to him no matter how much he acted out. They had never really done anything to create or enforce boundaries or discipline.
Drew lay face down on the rough stones weeping heavily. His back felt as though it were on fire. If he expected any sympathy from his captors, he was terribly disappointed. Within minutes, Droog kicked him until he stood back up and ordered Drew to continue marching up the hill.
“I thought your master told you not to hurt me?” Drew gasped, hissing in pain.
“You still can talk, you live,” came the goblin’s simple reply.
Drew knew he would have to escape now. He thought himself immune to the goblin’s revenge, protected by their fear of angering their master. Drew just got a painful lesson in how far that protection went. They could hurt him, beat him, starve him, and probably even break some of his bones so long as he could speak. For the first time since he was pulled through the portal, he felt real fear.
Overhead, a hawk circled twice before turning south and flying back in the direction from which it came.
**
The soft glow creeping over the eastern horizon heralded the start of a new day and their last day of training before striking out into the wild on their own in search of Drew. The young trainees were pleased to find that they were not nearly as sore today as they had been after the first couple of days of training. They broke their fast with bowls of oatmeal and fruit before following their tutors to their respective training sites.
The rangers took Josh and Chuck to their usual training ground and outfitted them in their practice armor and weapons.
“All right, men,” Bronk addressed the two young men. “Today, you are going to spar with your teachers, and I don’t mean some light-hitting instruction training. You will fight as if your life depended on it, and you will not pull any of your strikes. You will be given the full effect of a real fight in all its glory and horror. Hopefully without the bleeding, but I make no promises.”
The two young men were nervous at such a prospect, but they hid it well as they squared off against the much more experienced fighting men. Josh faced the big ranger Bronk, who also favored a large two-handed sword. Without preamble, the large warrior launched into a swift and powerful attack, bashing at the younger, smaller man’s sword so hard it nearly numbed Josh’s hands.
Josh was pushed farther and farther back onto his heels in a retreating defense, frantically trying to dodge and parry the vicious onslaught. After several minutes of desperate defense, Josh detected a slight decrease in the speed and power of his opponent’s attacks and noticed the repeating pattern into which the sword swings had fallen. The younger fighter jumped back out of range of the expected swing then darted inside of the larger man’s attack a split second after the blade whistled harmlessly past his stomach.
Josh let loose a series of attacks and put the ranger on the defensive for the first time since the bout started. Although the ranger was slightly more winded than the younger man, his greater skill showed in the ease with which he defended himself from Josh’s attacks. The pair exchanged attacks, parries, and feints with equal measure. Josh deflected one of Bronk’s attacks by forcing the weapon up high then swung swiftly down to land a strike onto the thigh of the ranger’s leading leg.
The weapons instructor let out a grunt of surprise at the minor wound and smiled his approval at his student before launching back into another vicious attack routine. The outcome of the bout was never in question. Within minutes of Josh landing his strike, Bronk’s furious assault battered through the young man’s defenses; his far greater experience never really left any hope in any of the fighters’ minds as to who would win the bout.
“You fought real well, lad,” Bronk congratulated his pupil. “I’ve never seen anyone take to the sword as quickly as you. You have a real natural instinct.”
“I guess, but I still lost,” Josh complained with a smile on his face.
“You make it sound like a bad thing. It is a good thing to lose during practice. You learn more from your defeats and failures than you do from your successes. Just never lose in a real fight!” the big ranger advised with a hearty laugh.
“You ready, Chuck?” Jeffery asked the big lad.
“Ready as I’m going to be.” Chuck raised his sword and shield and assumed a battle stance.
The pair traded blows for several minutes with neither one gaining a clear advantage. The sharp sound of steel ringing against steel, and the more hollow sound of sword striking shield filled the air of the training ground. Chuck was larger and stronger than his friend, and his fighting style reflected it. Josh used more finesse and planned battle strategies, whereas Chuck’s method was to simply batter away at his foes in a near berserker-type rage with seemingly inexhaustible strength and energy.
It is not to say that Chuck lacked any kind of cunning in his fighting. Jeffery swung for the big lad’s head, fully expecting Chuck to block the blow with his shield as he had several times already. However, instead of interposing his shield between his vitally important head and the potentially dangerous training sword, he pivoted his upper body and intercepted the blow with his sword. He used his own blade to push the ranger’s sword down and shifted him off balance, then brought his shield hard across his body to slam into his opponent’s shoulder and head.
The shield slam knocked the ranger off balance and sent him to the ground, but before Chuck could press his advantage, the nimble fighter rolled with the blow and sprang back onto his feet, ready to meet the next attack. Chuck and Josh both stared for a brief second and marveled at the incredible display of fortitude and agility Jeffery displayed in shaking off the brain-rattling attack and regaining his feet so quickly.
This bout also ended as expected with Chuck on the ground yielding to his more experienced foe. After a short rest, some water, and further instructions, the fighters swapped opponents and started all over again.
Chase happily resumed his training with the lovely and devious Samone. She went over several lectures again to ensure her pupil had not forgotten anything she had already taught him, which she was pleasantly surprised to see he had not.
“Now, I want you to go off into the woods, try to sneak up on me, and land a successful attack,” she instructed him.
Samone stood in the small clearing while Chase ran off into the trees. He waited about fifteen minutes before he began stalking his prey. Chase crept as silently and nimbly as a hunting cat back to the small clearing where Samone sat in a crouch doodling in the dirt with a small stick. The young thief picked up three small pinecones and threw them in rapid succession so they landed in quick sequence in the brush off to her right side.
He watched Samone’s full pert lips curl up into a smile as she ever so slightly glanced toward the slight sound of artificial footfalls across the clearing. She pretended to not have noticed the sounds and continued scratching in the dirt just as Chase figured she would, but he saw that she kept looking with her eyes without turning her head toward his distraction.
Chase slowly crept toward his target from nearly the exact opposite and downwind direction. He had his long dagger in his hand as he slowly and silently slinked toward the young woman’s back. He gently lobbed a tiny acorn near the area he had tossed the pinecones and saw the nearly imperceptible glance at the sound once again.
Just as he was about to tap his teacher on her slender shoulder, she spun like a cat, grabbed his wrist, and twisted it until the blade the fell to the ground. She continued to twist until he was forced to follow the path of the knife and found himself on the ground as well, looking up into the ranger’s sharp, blue eyes.
“It was a nice attempt; your distraction would be believable by most people. But
I am not most people,” she said smiling down at her charge haughtily.
“You are definitely not most people,” Chase agreed as he stared up at her. “Most people don’t stand on their head.”
Chase watched the look of confusion spread across her face before he reached behind him and grasped a slender cord that lay buried beneath the loose soil and fallen pine needles. He tugged once on the cord and released a heavy log he had spent half the night setting up. Gravity pulled the log down, which pulled the hidden rope taught. The rope snapped around Samone’s ankles and hoisted her up into the air, her head swinging just two feet above the forest floor.
“Oh, very well done, handsome. It looks like I have taught you something after all,” she congratulated.
Chase’s heart swelled at the compliment, and for the first time in his young life, was proud to have worked so hard to gain the approval of another. After he cut Samone down, he continued to practice all of the skills she had taught him in the last couple of days. Though only four days had passed, he had learned so much that it seemed almost a lifetime.
Lucas and Brody led their charges about a mile from the camp before explaining today’s training schedule.
“Being a ranger is more about stealth and wood lore than fighting, which is not to say that a ranger isn’t more than capable of handling his own against nearly any opponent. Soldiers fight in huge pitched battles, standing side by side with their fellow soldiers, bashing away at the enemy until one side or the other wins. A ranger is more apt to be alone, or in a small group where surprise and ambush is the key to survival. Brody and I are going to set off in that direction. You two are going to practice your swordsmanship until the sun reaches that point in the sky,” the ranger directed, pointing at a spot above the horizon.
“At that point, you will track us to our makeshift camp and put arrows into the targets we will set up before you arrive. You must kill every target in the area without alerting any others in the camp.”
Without waiting for questions, the rangers set off and disappeared into the woods. The twins squared off and fenced for about an hour then took turns quizzing each other on the native plant life. As the sun reached the appointed hour, they set off following the trail the rangers had left them. The so-called trail was little more than a scuffed rock or broken twig on a bush. The twins were pleased that the rangers had left them that much to follow. If they wanted to, the rangers could have moved through the forest without leaving even those meager signs.
The brother and sister used all their knowledge and training to follow the hints their instructors left them, and even then they lost the trail several times and had to search an area for several minutes to nearly an hour before picking it back up again. On the occasions that they completely lost the trail, the pair would walk in an ever-expanding circle until they found the clue. The sign may be as obvious as the bark scraped on a tree or as subtle as a single overturned rock that looked out of place.
It took over three hours to find the ranger’s hideout. The twin’s first indication was a straw dummy propped up against a tree acting as a sentry. Phil quietly drew his bow and nocked an arrow to the string. His sister laid a restraining hand on his arm and pointed at the effigy. Phil could now see that small bells attached to the target would have alerted the rangers if he had simply put an arrow in it.
As they crept closer, they found several trip wires crisscrossing the ground in front of the dummy. The wires were also attached to bells hidden in the brush to alert the camp to intruders. They took the hint that they had to treat the dummy as if it were a living and seeing person that had to be neutralized silently.
Felicia crept around to the side and just slightly to the rear of the target, carefully avoiding several alarm devices. She slipped to the rear of the dummy, placed a hand over its bell-rigged mouth and drew her dagger across its throat without making a sound.
She made her way silently back to her brother. The siblings then cautiously walked a large circle around the area, disabling three more straw guards. Once they neutralized all of the sentries, the twins made their way toward the enemy camp, moving with all of the stealth they could muster. It took them over half an hour to creep and crawl the one hundred and fifty yards to the camp. They heard Brody and Lucas talking quietly before they were finally able to peer through the foliage and see the rangers and their constructed targets.
Three tents ringed a small campfire. The two rangers sat on logs sharpening their swords and conversing quietly. The young infiltrators scanned the camp and saw three more “men” in the clearing. One stuffed figure stood just outside a tent while two other sat on logs near the extinguished fire pit. Phil motioned that he would circle around to the far side to ensure the tents did not hide any more targets before they engaged the ones they could see.
Several minutes later, Felicia saw a hand emerge from the woods on the far side of the camp holding up two fingers. Phil had found two more targets on the far side of the tents hidden from view from her position.
With another concealed hand gesture, they were ready to attack the camp. Felicia fitted two arrows to her bow and drew the string to her cheek, whistled a very good imitation of a Wren-Thrush, then fired at her targets. Phil fired a double shot at the two targets on his side at nearly the same time. Both attackers had another arrow fitted and drawn as four of the five targets fell to the ground. The two rangers sharpening their swords sprang into action immediately. Lucas reached down, grabbed a rope laying unseen at his feet, and began pulling furiously. A thin cord snapped taught a dozen feet over their heads and was rapidly pulled through a pulley hidden somewhere in the trees.
Two arrows thudded home into the last remaining straw man as the purpose of the rope system was revealed. Instead of a trap, as the twins had feared, the rope pulled another stuffed target across the camp, simulating a man fleeing toward the woods.
“Don’t let him get away!” Brody shouted.
The rangers need not have been concerned. Before Brody had time to finish his warning shout, two arrows sprouted from the swift-moving target’s back. Lucas stopped pulling the rope propelling the target as soon as they declared it dead, and called their two students to them. The siblings jogged into the camp, bows in hand, and grinned widely.
“How many targets did you neutralize outside the camp, and how did you go about it?” Lucas asked the pair.
“Four; two by hand, two by arrows to the throat,” Felicia answered gleefully.
Her infectious smile spread to the rangers at the answer.
“Excellent, we had hoped to get you with the runner, but we really didn’t think he’d get away, and you certainly did not disappoint.” Brody praised the siblings. “Let us return to camp before it gets dark. You will all need your rest before you set out tomorrow.”
As the rangers and their students trekked back to camp, the two men relentlessly quizzed Phil and Felicia the entire way, not letting a minute pass that could be used to teach something new or practice a previous lesson.
**
After a full day of study and practice, Elderin took the young wizard and cleric out to their usual training area. They saw that a small, round lodge made of skins and oiled canvas had been erected a short ways from the bank of the river.
The druid held open the flap of deer hide serving as the door and motioned them inside. Once inside, the young men noticed there was a round hole in the top of the yurt to allow the smoke of a fire to escape. An unlit fire pit lay directly below the smoke hole. Elderin lit the fire with a word of magic and bade them sit down on the bare earthen floor.
“At the close of today’s lesson, I want you both to look deep within yourselves. I want you to truly know the heart of your power and of yourselves,” the druid intoned as he threw aromatic shavings of some unknown plant or bark onto the fire. “Close your eyes and breathe in the smoke. It will help you concentrate and to look deep within your heart, mind, and soul.”
The two boys closed their eyes and in
haled; the smell of spices, fresh soil, and flowers filled their noses. Someone suddenly threw open the door flap of the yurt, and a frantic voice called inside, interrupting their meditation.
“Elderin, goblins raid the camp!” a ranger cried before darting away.
Elderin stood and made for the door. “It looks as though we will have to do this another time, lads. Come, we must defend the camp,” the druid declared and stepped out, his students close on his heels. Elderin grabbed the first ranger he found. “How many are there, and how did they get past our sentries?”
“There are scores of them, Elderin, and with ogres. I know not how they slipped past the sentries, unless they managed to slay them or were aided by magic,” the ranger informed the druid as best he could.
“It may be time to put your training to the test, boys. Are you ready?”
“Yes, Elderin, we’re ready,” Ted answered and Gabe nodded in agreement.
“Very well, prepare yourselves as best you can then follow me.”
Ted cast spells that would make him harder to hit and armor him against weapons should a blow land. Gabe was already wearing a chain shirt, plate armor greaves, and carried his mace. Fortunately, Elderin enforced the importance of training as you fight. That included dressing and arming themselves as they would when they were to leave on the morrow.
“We’re ready, Elderin,” Ted informed the druid.
“Let us be off then, and be wary, lads.”
They could hear the sounds of battle, the clanging of swords on metal, and the shouts of men and beasts as they moved away from the roar of the waterfall and closer to the besieged camp.
Through the trees, they could make out dozens of forms darting about and striking at other shadowed forms. As they neared the camp, the forms became more distinct. Rangers engaged groups of goblins, sometimes at odds of three and four to one.
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