Blackmane crossed his arms in front of him. ‘Ten laps of the training yard, Commander.’
Eda looked between them. ‘But it wasn’t my fault.’
‘It wasn’t my fault,Commander,’ Roul corrected. ‘Rules are rules. Off you go. You can join us when you’re done.’ He turned away to make it clear the conversation was over.
He expected an argument, but for once, he did not get one. She simply jogged off.
Roul got the recruits warmed up with some strength training, conscious of Eda flashing in and out of his peripheral vision. Every now and then she would slow to tug her trousers up.
When she had completed her laps, she returned to the group, trying very hard not to appear out of breath.
‘Listen up,’ Roul called to the men. He waited until he had their full attention. ‘This is Eda Suttone. Don’t let her gender fool you. She’s as capable with a sword as any one of you.’ He pointed around the group, doing introductions. ‘This is Ryder Blackmane, Nixon Hadewaye, Kelton Alveye, Brock Tatum, and Graeme Tollere.’ His eyes returned to Eda. ‘We use last names around here. You’ll be addressed as Suttone moving forwards. Any questions before we begin?’
She shook her head. ‘No, Commander.’
‘Good.’ He gestured to the weapons laid out on the icy grass. ‘Grab a sword and a shield, then pair off.’
Everyone moved to collect weapons. Blackmane took the shield Eda was reaching for. She looked up at him, then moved to the next one. Roul knew he would do her no favours by speaking up on her behalf.
The men paired off.
Usually, if there were odd numbers, Roul would join in, but Eda made three pairs. He was tempted to place her with Tollere, the weakest of the group, but the sooner she established her place in the hierarchy, the better it would be for everyone.
‘Suttone, you’ll pair with Tatum,’ Roul said.
Blackmane looked over, then muttered. ‘Perfect. Now we have to listen to her cry.’
‘Watch yourself, Blackmane,’ Roul said, ‘or you’ll be running laps also.’
He hoped they would quieten down once they saw what she could do. It was difficult for any man to comprehend that someone both petite and beautiful could also be lethal.
Yes, beautiful. Roul was not blind.
‘Let’s go,’ he called.
Eda and Tatum moved closer to each other, watching the other with equal suspicion. Tatum was in his eighteenth year and took the title of cockiest recruit. He and Blackmane excelled at everything. Alveye and Hadewaye were improving, but they had to work hard at it. Tollere was decent with a bow, but that was about it. There was every chance he would not make it as a defender.
Eda tossed her sword into the air a few times, getting used to the weight of it.
‘The idea is to poke me with the pointy end,’ Tatum said, grinning at Eda.
Roul pressed his eyes shut, wishing the morning away before it had barely begun. ‘Less talking, more fighting. Once you’ve disarmed your partner, you bring your sword to me. The rest of you will run laps.’
‘Oof,’ Tatum said, circling Eda. ‘You’re going to be tired this afternoon.’
Eda rolled her eyes. ‘Tired of your voice.’
‘Promise me you won’t cry. I never know what to do when women cry.’
‘Are we fighting or courting?’ Eda said, losing patience. ‘You’re holding weapons, yet I’m getting your life story.’
Tatum laughed at that. So did Hadewaye and Alveye.
‘All right,’ Tatum said, spinning his wooden sword, ‘You want to fight? Then let’s fight.’
* * *
Eda was determined not to be completely humiliated on her first day. Certainly not during the very first drill. Now that Roul had flexed a little muscle by making her run laps, she had her own point to make.
