There were phases. This was going to be worsethan she thought.
She could always purposefully fail.
As if reading her thoughts, Caden said, “Ishould warn you that if you fail, your friends, both the ones fromyour village and the men you’ve been riding with over the past fewmonths, will suffer for it.”
Shea was quiet as that sunk in.
“What makes you think I care for a bunch ofTrateri trail pounders?” she finally asked.
“You’re still here, aren’t you?”
“Uh huh.” She let a bit of amusement bleedthrough, hoping it would cast just a little bit of doubt in hismind about her motives. Maybe it would be enough that they wouldstop threatening the other three to ensure her good behavior.
By the pitying look he gave her, she waswilling to bet he didn’t buy her attempt at subterfuge one bit.
Not that she was surprised. She’d never beenvery good at misleading others through word or gesture. Herteachers had always lamented her directness.
Yeah, Caden wasn’t buying her lies for oneminute.
“So what’s this next test?” Shea asked.
“Physical endurance.”
Shea felt a cautious relief. The life of ascout and a pathfinder was geared towards one thing above allothers and that was endurance. If you didn’t have the ability towalk or run for miles on end for hours upon hours, you wouldn’tlast through your first year. Shea had spent her entire lifebuilding up those abilities.
Despite her confidence, she knew everybodycould be pushed beyond their breaking point. Even her.
“And that entails?”
The old man’s lips parted in a wrinkly smile.“You’ll see.”
Shea’s thighs burned as a sharp ache dugdeeper and deeper into the muscle right between her shoulderblades. Her shirt had turned several shades darker, and her hairwas plastered to the side of her head. She blinked away the sharpsting of sweat and concentrated on her grip on the blade.
She had been right to be leery of the oldman’s endurance test. His workout menu was as bad as any pathfindershe had ever studied under. Worse, because pathfinders werecautious not to permanently break the youths who had been giveninto their keeping. She didn’t think this man had any suchreservations.
The morning began like every morning, with abrisk run around the encampment four times. Not the tent city butthe outer circumference, just past the sentry lines that werepatrolled by Trateri soldiers. One time around was roughly threemiles. The old man followed behind on horseback and any time hethought she was going too slowly, he’d flick the whip against thebacks of her legs.
When the fast paced run from hell was finallyfinished, he had her strap a carrying pole across her shoulder andadded a full bucket of water on either side and then had her carryit up the steep quarter mile hill on the far side of camp.
At the top of that hill, he threw a round,leather sand-filled ball at her, making her catch it. More oftenthan not, it hit her stomach before she could grab it. There wasblood on her shirt from when she missed and gotten hit in the face,causing her nose to bleed.
After he’d judged this phase finished, heforced her back down the hill. She’d thought it was over.
She should have known better.
Next, he escorted her to the spacioustraining pen where Hawkvale’s personal guards practiced theirweapon work. He paired her with her guard from the day before,Trenton, and had them run drills. Or more accurately, Trentonpushed Shea back and forth across the arena as Shea had yet tosuccessfully block any move he had thrown at her.
He would attack and she would stumble back.Rinse and repeat. For hours. By the time it was over, she collapsedonto the small cot Fallon had stationed in his quarters, too tiredto offer even a token protest. She was asleep almost before herhead hit the pillow. The next morning she woke to more of thesame.
This routine continued for several weeks. Atthe crack of dawn, Shea was up and attending to Fallon. Getting hisbreakfast, carrying the water for his bath, dressing him. Once heleft for council meetings or to inspect his warriors, Shea wasreleased to Caden and the old man’s care. Each day they inventednew ways to test the limits on Shea’s endurance.
She lost toenails because of the distancesthey made her run and became a walking bruise from the number ofblows Trenton landed.
The day’s training always ended the same way,with Shea sparring against Trenton. Currently, the blade trembledin Shea’s grip as she fought to stay standing. If she could justblock one blow, she might be able to get through this with a smallpiece of her pride intact.
Another bead of sweat dripped into her eye,and she shook her head, blinking rapidly. Trenton moved forward,taking advantage of the moment’s distraction. Shea brought herblade up, parrying his blow. The next moment the world spun as sheflew before landing hard. She blinked dumbly at the sky, notingdistantly that it was a perfect day for cloud gazing. The whitepieces of fluff danced and swirled in time to the wind.
Caden’s head imposed itself between her andthe sky.
