“Randomly.”
I wiggled my fingers still up there. “Do we need to bleed both people or just one?”
He snickered, amused with my persistence. “Both.”
I finally lowered my hand.
Then I raised it fast with a thought. “Will we get dinner afterward?”
Finn’s shoulders shook ever so slightly.
The amusement fled from the instructor’s face. “Are you so sure you’ll win?”
“Yes.” I kept my hand up. “You didn’t answer my question.”
He sighed. “Dinner will be served afterward for those still here.” His eyes scanned left to right on our group, skipping over me. “Does anyone else have any questions?”
My freaking hand was still in the air.
I lowered it and scowled.
When no one said anything, he nodded. “Good. Now please move to the outer edges of the wall and take a seat to wait your turn.” Then he pivoted and chatted with their group once again, ignoring us all.
Megan tilted toward me, and questioned, “What else were you going to ask?”
I snorted. “The obvious. I wanted to know what was for dinner. I’m starving after that horrid run today.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
My ass was numb by the time my name was called.
The time had afforded me what I needed, though.
I knew how they fought and which ones I didn’t want to fight against. The two main people being Godric and Finn. Every time they had randomly been picked, the recruit was sent home. And they were holding back in each fight, the evidence clear in the tight coil of their muscles with each blow or pivot.
The view had been spectacular, though.
Both fought as if it were a fluid dance.
And Godric was hot as hell to look at too.
I stood and walked to the wall to pick my weapon.
This was the tricky part. None of the instructors or Godric or Finn had fought with the same weapon more than twice. They waited for the candidate to pick, and then they chose their own weapon.
I nibbled on my bottom lip.
The short sword seemed the easiest choice.
The whip the worst.
But I decided on the smallest blade available.
A pocketknife. No one had picked that yet.
I lifted it from the floor where it sat like a pebble amidst boulders. I opened it, and the silver gleamed—nice and sharp. I turned to Major Wilcox and held it up. “I choose the pocketknife.”
All of my would-be opponents were much larger than I was, with longer arms and legs. They could easily reach me with a sword before I could reach them. That meant I would have to get in close and take away their main strength over me.
