by N E Riggs
After the day’s tests, they were given a paper with their marks. They were graded on a scale of one to ten. An average of seven was needed to pass. David didn’t look at his paper immediately, not sure if he wanted to see. He’d have to look eventually though. Sighing, he unfolded it.
He got a seven in fitness and weights and survival skills and, amazingly, in shooting. That almost made him feel good enough to overlook the three in general knowledge and the four in unarmed combat. Almost.
He could only hope to impress them on the second day, when they showed their specialized weapon skills. He lay in his bed until the early a.m. hours, trying desperately to sleep, and failing. All he could think of was how screwed he’d be if he failed the test. He finally did manage to drift off but, when his alarm woke him in the morning, he felt like he hadn’t slept at all. He had four cups of coffee for breakfast — thank God Bantong had coffee! — before trudging out with the others for day two of testing.
An elaborate obstacle course had been set up, far larger and harder-looking than anything they’d trained on. There were four climbing walls, a mud pit with stepping stones that had to be too far apart, swinging logs, ropes bridges, and what looked suspiciously like flame-throwers. “They have got to be kidding,” David said, staring at the barbed wire that was maybe six inches off the ground.
Conal slapped him on the back. “Don’t worry too much. You’ll be fine. You’ve been doing much better with the obstacle courses.”
Anur smirked. “Yeah, you only fall half the times instead of every time.”
David groaned and buried his face in his hands. Niam patted him on the head, which just made him feel worse.
Scatha joined them at the start of the course. “Your order has been determined by your scores from yesterday,” she said. “Phera, you got a fifty-eight. You’re up first.”
“Fifty-eight? Shit,” David said. That meant Bellon had gotten a ten in almost everything. Since there were only ten events total, a score of seventy was needed to pass. Bellon was nearly there, and day two hadn’t even started yet.
Bellon puffed up his chest and smirked at the other acolytes. Anur scowled, crossing her arms over her chest. Niam winced, shifting where she stood. Conal grasped Bellon’s forearm. “Good luck,” he said. Bellon looked a bit surprised but nodded. He turned and stepped up to the starting line.
Scatha pulled out her com pad. The other Sword Priests were seated at the side, watching avidly. “Start!” Scatha said, and Bellon ran forward.
David stared at the ground, unable to watch. He probably should watch – seeing someone do the course would give him an idea of how to run the course. Conal, Anur, and Niam were all watching closely, noting what Bellon did well and where he faltered. No matter how much David knew the course beforehand, he couldn’t see himself doing a good job. It was better not to know in advance how poorly he compared to the others.
An elbow landed firmly in his side. He looked up to see Scatha glaring at him. “Watch,” she hissed.
“Why?”
“Sword Priests help each other out,” she said between clenched teeth. “Phera is helping you now. If you can’t accept that, you don’t deserve to be a Sword Priest.”
I’m not going to become one anyway, David thought. But he obediently turned his gaze to the course, watching as Bellon scaled a wall with ease, even though it was at a 120 degree angle. He tried to analyze Bellon’s moves, learning how the course worked. Instead he felt overwhelmed by the sight.
Bellon faltered a few times. The worst came when he was forced to jump off a rope bridge to avoid being burnt by a flame-thrower. He pulled himself back up, swinging below the rope bridge until he reached the end. He finished the course in just over fifteen minutes, going by the timer on Scatha’s com pad. Scatha nodded approvingly.
“Isha, you have fifty. You’re next,” Scatha said after a few minutes, during which the Sword Priests took notes. It seemed they’d be judged on more than just their time. Anur looked surprised for a moment, then smiled broadly. David looked around at his fellow acolytes. Apparently, they hadn’t shared their scores from yesterday. He hadn’t told anyone, since his score of thirty-five had been dreadful.
Anur ran the course with fewer mistakes than Bellon had, but not as quickly. She moved carefully and cautiously. She had some trouble timing the flame-throwers but finished with just a few small burns. David thought the Sword Priests looked impressed as they spoke softly to each other afterward. Her time was over twenty-three minutes, but Scatha nodded in approval. Even though she hadn’t gotten her score yet, Anur all but glowed in satisfaction.
“Vikor, you had forty-seven,” Scatha said. Conal nodded, mouth set in a grim line as he walked to the start line. Ever since their adventure off-world, Conal had been training like crazy. He hadn’t talked about it much, but David thought he was ashamed that he’d been the only one seriously injured. He only had a few days to train like crazy, and he clearly wasn’t happy that Anur had still done better at the testing than him.
He ran the obstacle course way too fast. He slipped often, almost tripped himself on the stepping stones, fell off the climbing wall, and flailed constantly while trying to avoid the flame-throwers. David couldn’t help wincing as he watched. If only Conal slowed down a bit, he’d do much better. But Conal continued grimly, not slowing down except when he had to. He finished the course in an impressive ten minutes, but he was in such a shape that Scatha called for a Heart Priest. The murmurs from the Sword Priests didn’t sound as excited as they had for Anur, and Conal glowered. He knows he screwed up, David thought.
“Garna, you had forty-six. Get moving,” Scatha said when the Heart Priest finished healing Conal’s injuries. Niam took her place, shoulders squared and looking calm. She didn’t seem upset that she’d only beaten David. When she started the course, she proved why. She’d obviously been paying attention to the others as they went through the course. She moved quickly and effortlessly, making no mistakes. And she was quick, too. Not quite as fast as Conal, but faster than Bellon had been. She’d evened figured out the timing for the flame-throwers, apparently, because she paused right before one went off.
She finished in just over twelve minutes, and Chirn actually applauded. David managed to give her a weak smile as he took his place at the starting line. “Please don’t say my score,” he said to Scatha as he waited.
“Try not to be awful,” she said. They waited for the Sword Priests to finish discussing Niam’s performance then she said, “Start!”
David tried to ignore the butterflies in his stomach as he ran into the course. He’d seen four other people run the course, one of whom had been pretty much perfect. Theoretically, he should do well. At first, he managed well enough. He wasn’t as fast as Niam as he crawled under the barbed wire or scaled the walls or crossed the rope bridges, but he didn’t think he’d made any big mistakes either. He slipped on a muddy stone halfway across the mud pit, but caught himself before he fell over.
Unfortunately, he stood up just moments before a swinging log hit him. He fell to the ground, landing half on the stone and half in the mud. Wincing, he pulled himself to his feet, this time keeping an eye on projectiles. He had to slow down, but he made it across the mud pit without falling again or getting hit. He climbed up another rope bridge, where the flame-throwers were. Niam had somehow figured out their timing, but David hadn’t. He paused for a moment to look ahead, but none of the flame-throwers were currently active. He jogged out onto the bridge, listening carefully. He heard a faint hiss moments before a flume of fire sprung up right in front of him. He skidded to a stop, close enough to feel the heat from the flames. It stopped a moment later, and David hurried on.
The next two he missed by sheer luck. The third he had to leap forward abruptly in order to avoid, and he landed in a half-sprawl. He pulled himself to his feet and finally reached the end of the bridge. He was almost feeling pleased with himself, thinking that he hadn’t done that badly, when he reached the nex
t climbing wall. He was still covered in mud, and his hands slipped every time he gripped something. He dropped off the wall and wiped his hands on his back, which was mostly clean, before attempting the wall again. This time, he got up with only a little trouble.
When he finally reached the finish line, he dropped to the ground in relief. Scatha showed him his time of nineteen minutes, and he wilted. He hadn’t made as many mistakes as Conal, but he’d taken much longer. He knew his score would be low.
The first test had taken up most of the morning, so they left for lunch while the Sword Priests decided on their scores. David took a shower and changed his clothes before joining the others. They ate in silence, trying not to look at one another. It was a strange feeling. Up till now, they’d worked together and tried to support one another. Now, it felt like the others were his opponents. They shouldn’t feel that way – nothing David had heard indicated that the Sword Priests wouldn’t be happy to accept all five of them, assuming they performed adequately. But he couldn’t shake the feeling. He finished his lunch quickly, forcing himself to eat it all, and downed two more cups of coffee.
The afternoon was weapon specialties. Bellon had his lance, Anur her sword and bow, Conal his sword, and David Bramira. Niam had brought her agitator with her. At David’s look, she said, “I’m allowed to use this for the weapons specialty. I just have to be really good at it.”
If they were picked in a certain order for this test, Scatha didn’t say. She had Conal and Anur go first with their swords, fighting one of the Sword Priests who also used a sword. This test at least David could watch without feeling bad about himself, since he wasn’t supposed to be good with a sword. He could just sit back and admire their movements and form. The Sword Priests watching looked impressed too.
Conal returned to his seat but Anur stayed behind to show off her archery skills. The targets used for the shooting yesterday were brought back, and Anur proved just how good she was. She only missed a few times, and usually hit the center of the targets. After the test, she collected her arrows and sat down. Niam went next with her agitator. The targets moved faster than they had for the test yesterday, and more randomly. It didn’t faze Niam for a moment, and she too only missed a few times.
David was called up next, since he’d need the targets too. He unclipped Bramira and actually stood up straight for the first time since the test started. His heart was still racing, but that was probably from too much coffee. He knew he could use Bramira well, and he did. The targets moved quickly and erratically, but he’d practiced under such conditions with Cumon. He didn’t even have to worry about shooting left-handed at the same time. Bramira sheered through everything without pause, its trajectory influenced by David’s every wish. He barely even had to aim with it.
He finished quickly, the targets laying in wreaked heaps all over the gymnasium. The Sword Priests made him and the other acolytes clean it all up before Bellon at last had his chance to show off his skills with a lance. David watched him and didn’t even feel jealous – he’d done well on one test, and he had to be proud of that.
Their tests were done for the day. Tomorrow, they’d have the last two tests: tumbling and a marathon. David bit his lip as Scatha handed out the day’s results, his fingers clenched on his knees. Anur and Niam both looked pleased by their scores, but Conal scowled. David stared at the folded paper for a long moment before finally opening it up. He squinted at the score, as if it might be better if he couldn’t see it properly.
He’d gotten a four for the obstacle course and a ten for weapon specialty, giving him forty-nine points total. There were only two tests left for tomorrow. Even if he got a ten on both of them, he’d only have sixty-nine points, one short of passing.
“Congratulations,” he heard Scatha say to Bellon. “You are now a Sword Priest. You are still required to continue the last day of testing as well as take the final vow to become a full Brother.” She paused then said, “You’ve done very well,” in a tone David had never heard from her before.
He didn’t really care, though, nor did he bother watching as Anur and Niam congratulated Bellon. He couldn’t take his eyes off the paper, the proof that, once again, he was a complete failure.
He slipped away, hoping no one saw him leave. He hid away in his small room, locking the door behind him. What was he supposed to do now? He had no home in Bantong to go back to, no family to succor him in his failure. He didn’t even have any friends. The only people he knew were Sword Priests, who didn’t want him, and Brigid, whom he’d offended. He’d have to go crawling back to her, begging for her to find him a job he could do. She’d probably help him out; Brigid was a good person, who would do her job no matter how much a jerk her travelers were. She wouldn’t be interested in him anymore. Nor should she be. Brigid was a beautiful, intelligent, and capable person. She deserved someone better than him.
Lying back on the bed, he closed his eyes. Somehow, he managed to fall asleep. In the morning, he woke up and got ready for the last day of testing. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t pass. As an acolyte, he was required to take the entire test, and he would.
In some ways, it was a relief to know he couldn’t pass. He wasn’t nervous anymore. He smiled his way through breakfast almost as much as Bellon. Conal, Anur, and Niam gave him odd looks but didn’t ask. He hoped he’d be able to see them again after this. He’d come to think of them as friends. They’d helped him out so much. At the very least, he needed to let them know how grateful he was before he left.
They started with the race, which was called a marathon even though it was only twenty miles. Clearly, the people of Bantong didn’t know what a real marathon was. Bellon ran it like a man desperate to pass his test. Or maybe he was just too happy to go slow. He even outpaced Niam at the start. David smiled at the sight as he ran behind them around the track, close to Conal and Anur. Conal moved grimly, completely focused, but Anur occasionally threw glances at Conal and David, as if she wanted to talk to them. It didn’t bother David. He ran easily, steps fluid and sure. He finished around the same time as Conal and Anur, the best he’d ever done.
He couldn’t be a Sword Priest, but he could at least be proud of what few things he had managed to accomplish. He was in the best shape of his life, he’d learned all sorts of new skills, and he had good friends. He could be content with that. He had to be content with that.
Anur pulled him aside after the race. “Are you okay?” she asked softly.
David smiled and nodded. “You’re a great person. You know that, right? I want to say that now, in case I don’t get the chance later.”
“Now I’m really worried,” Anur said, face scrunching. David slipped away from her before she could ask him anything else. He wanted to say how much it mattered to him that she was worried, but he couldn’t talk about it. Not now.
After a brief pause for lunch, the acolytes arranged themselves to prepare for the last test, tumbling. David should have been worried: he could do a cartwheel and a handstand, but not much else. It didn’t really matter how he did, though, so he continued smiling. Niam gave him some worried looks too, and even Conal and Bellon seemed briefly concerned, but David was beyond all that.
The Sword Priests looked about ready to start the final test when a person ran into the room. He was a Sword Priest too, his brown uniform indicating he was a Brother. He looked vaguely familiar, but David couldn’t place him. The man raced over to the other Swords Priests and spoke with them softly and quickly. David frowned as he watched him, trying to place him. He had dark, wavy hair and lightly tanned skin. His uniform, David realized, was ripped and muddy and blood-stained.
After a few moments, Iwel Longar stood up. “The test is postponed,” he called.
Scatha, who had been waiting with the acolytes, frowned. “Why is that, Your Grace?”
Iwel reached behind his chair and picked up his spear. “The sixth traditional division has run into an emergency. We’re the only ones available for backup in Valal.�
�� He paused and eyed the acolytes. “You five are coming too.”
David and the others stood straighter, trying not to look surprised. “Your Grace?” Scatha said.
“If the situation on world 7841 is as serious as Brother Popovitch says, we’ll need all the people we can get,” Iwel said grimly. “Acolytes, put on your armor and get your weapons. Go!”
They ran off without first saluting. David reached his room, yanked on the heavy jacket he’d worn on his last mission off-world, slipped his agitator in its holster, and clipped Bramira to his belt. Then he ran back to the gymnasium. The other acolytes were back too. Anur grinned, Niam held her agitator very close, Conal looked grim, and Bellon was as confident as ever. The other Sword Priests had their armor on and bristled with weapons. Scatha had a long knife, and Chirn carried a bow and arrows.
Iwel nodded when everyone had assembled and led them, along with Brother Popovitch, to a room filled with gateways – one that David hadn’t seen before. He wondered briefly how many rooms full of gateways Bantong had. “This one, Your Grace,” Brother Popovitch said, motioning to one near the middle. Beyond the gateway, David could see a low stone fence and some houses off to the right. More worrying, smoke filled the sky of that other world.
He swallowed hard. The last world he’d visited hadn’t gone well, and it should have been safe. This one would be anything but safe.
12
The Werewolves of Lunari
They stepped through the gateway. David and the other acolytes stayed near the back of the group, which was fine with David. Now that he was here, he could hear screams in the distance, and explosions. The air smelt of smoke, and less pleasant things that David couldn’t name and didn’t want to. Brother Popovitch led them into the small village.