The four of them finished their meal in silence and then headed back to the barracks. Lying in his cot after another enforced wash that night, Niall chewed the problem over. It was clear Huff and the others thought they had no chance to survive. If he was honest with himself, he was not sure how he would be ready to take a Bulvine on in a few months. He had been in the middle of an attack by a single Bulvine in his first hours in Gwilliant. It had not gone well. As his fight with Killip had shown, he could not even fight a pampered city fop. How was he going to be able to survive against trained Bulvine soldiers in just a few months’ time?

“Pobble?”

“Niall?”

“Do you have any ideas for how we can survive when we are on the front line?”

“Of course.”

“Really?”

“Just because Niall is a clueless idiot, it does not mean that everyone is.”

“Well, go on then, wise one.”

“There are lots of choices. The easiest thing to do would be to sweep the Bulvine away with an elemental storm. Any element would do. Alternatively, Niall could find one of the lost relics of the Bulvine Imperator. There are at least two Pobble knows of. The only way the Bulvine would not submit to the authority of a relic is if their Imperatrix herself came to countermand it, and she has many other things to worry about. Of course, Niall could just outsource it. Clearing out an army of Bulvine would only take a Sage-level warrior an afternoon.”

Niall forced himself not to jump out of bed in excitement. “Pobble. That’s amazing. Do you know how we can do any of those things?”

“Of course. Pobble has drifted as each of the elementals for millennia. It is the first thing Fae fragments do. Naturally Pobble has mastery of each one. In fact, Pobble was drifting as a mote of air in the forge when the Bulvine crown was moulded. Pobble can remember every detail like it was yesterday, Pobble could recreate it now.”

“And the Sage-level warrior?”

“They just want paying. There are at least three forgotten gold caches within two days ride of here that would pay for a dozen of them.”

“Pobble, you’re amazing.”

“I know.”

“So, which one would you suggest?”

“Suggest? Suggest for what?”

“Well for us to take on the Bulvine in a few months. I mean, could you teach me to do one of those elemental storms?”

“Pobble could, but Pobble is not allowed. Pobble cannot help Niall do any of these things. Niall will have to find his path for himself.”

“Seriously, Pobble?”

“Niall knows what Pobble’s job is. Pobble will observe, and will channel and translate mana for him.”

“But if I’m dead then there will be nothing to observe.”

“That is true. But there are rules. Breaking them has a cost you cannot understand. If Pobble does anything to help to save Niall’s life outside of those rules, there is a price.”

“You helped me when Kiran and I were going to die in the woods. How is this different?”

Pobble was silent for a long moment before replying. “All Pobble did then was say three words. Even such minor help will exact its toll. Niall asks for much more here. The cost would not be worth paying.”

“Even if I die?”

“Even if Niall dies.”

Niall felt Pobble’s presence retreat again. He wanted to get up and punch something. The ability to save all of their lives was right there inside his head but there was nothing he could do to tap into it. The frustration had him tossing and turning in his sheets. It was only after he forced himself to meditate for a long time that he was able to fall asleep.

***

The next morning began with Sergeant Strang shouting at them seconds after the bugle sounded Dawn Call. This time Niall was ready and, despite his troubled night’s sleep, he was able to throw on his clothes and his boots to get out before the instructors entered.

Niall spent the damp, dawn hours doing press ups and star jumps before learning to march in step with the other recruits while carrying his shield and spear. It was a chastening experience. The cold spring drizzle made the ground greasy. Even in their new boots, they slipped frequently.

As far as Niall could tell, everyone was trying their hardest, yet the recruits repeatedly tripped over themselves or each other. More than once the butt of a spear would be caught in someone’s legs to send them tumbling into the mud. Despite his best efforts, Niall’s mind dipped into despair. He knew it was only the first week, but the group was going to have to fight in just three months. At this stage they could barely walk.

After an hour of this the Lieutenant called a halt. “You do not need me to tell you how bad that was, ladies and gentlemen. You know what the stakes are. Improve or die. Put your weapons in the racks and get some chow. Dismissed.”

Niall’s head was down as he tramped back to the barracks. There was not long to have breakfast before his next activity, but he could not bear to eat while he was still filthy from his morning exertions. Much like a number of others, his training shirt was in shreds after it had been caught on the points of errant spears.

His mood was bleak. The mountain they had to climb was evident and three months did not feel very long at all.

“Stop, drop and roll.” Pobble’s voice was urgent in his mind

“What are you talking about?”

“It is what Niall should do if there is a fire. Stop, drop and roll. Something is not right, so Pobble can help Niall, but not directly. Stop, drop and roll.”

As Pobble’s voice faded Niall felt a shove that came and left him sprawling in the mud was unexpected.

He looked up to see Stefan, in the uniform of a Gwillish soldier, standing over him. “Well, if it isn’t Devon’s lackey. No Devon to save you now, is there?”

Niall looked around frantically. The rain and the chill had sent everyone running into the mess hall and the square was empty. Stefan clapped a hand over Niall’s mouth and dragged him behind the barracks. Niall struggled but, while Stefan’s strength could not compare to someone like Egroth, the Master Smith in Hallen, he was still far stronger than Niall. Within a few moments they were hidden from any casual observers.

Stefan removed his hand from Niall’s mouth and threw him up against the stone wall of the barracks. Niall opened his mouth to shout but ended up coughing as Stefan winded him with a punch to the stomach.

With both hands, Stefan grabbed the front of Niall’s shirt and pushed him against the wall. He put his face close to Niall’s. “My father sent me a letter to tell me you were coming here. Do you have any idea how angry he was at me after you humiliated me?” His voice was an angry hiss.

Niall did not feel this was the right time to point out that the incident had been entirely of Stefan’s making.

“He thrashed me within an inch of my life and made me sell my belongings to buy a new sword.” Stefan’s voice had turned from a hiss to a sob. “I’m going to kill you for that. They said they could make everything right if I killed you. I’m going to beat you until they send the rest of you back to Devon in a jar. Then they will make everything right.” Stefan’s sobs were mixed with stifled laughter.

Niall listened with growing alarm. Stefan did not seem entirely rational at this point, but Niall did not know what to do about it. With a painful sense of déjà vu, punches started to fly into his body. Niall tried to fight back but his blows had no effect on the frenzied assault from the aggrieved soldier.

There was pause in the strikes to his body and Stefan grabbed the front of Niall’s training shirt with one hand. He cocked his fist and sent a punch flying towards Niall’s face.

Stop, drop, and roll.

Absent of any other ideas, Niall let his muscles relax. The sudden change in weight ripped his already abused shirt further and he dropped into the mud.

Unable to stop his momentum, Stefan’s hand slammed into the stone wall of the barracks. He let out a roar of pain. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, Niall rolled away and scrambled to his feet. Gasping for air he ran for the mess hall. A breath later he heard footsteps pound after him. He dared not look around, but instead focused on running. The Strength, Agility and Endurance he had gained as a Woodsman and then as a Hunter were pushed to their fullest extent.

Thudding steps drew ever closer as Niall splashed through puddles. The mess hall grew nearer, as did the footsteps. In Niall’s fevered imagination, it felt as if he could feel Stefan’s breath on his neck. Almost to safety, some combination of Perception and a base intuition made him jink to one side and he saw Stefan’s hand swipe just past his head.

Splattered in mud, sweat, and rain, Niall burst into porch of the mess hall just a step ahead of Stefan. He slammed the door shut behind him and pulled across the bolt. A frenzied hammering came at the door but it help firm. Niall ran to the window and looked out to see Stefan stand outside the door for a moment longer before he headed off shaking his injured hand.

Niall looked around, the porch was empty and he took a deep breath and walked into the main room of the mess hall. While he felt his entrance had been somewhat dramatic, no one seemed to care. After the morning training session, he was by no means the dirtiest person there and his shirt was not the most tattered. Most people were focussed on getting as much food into themselves as they could in the short time they had. Without a better option, Niall decided to join them.

He filled a bowl with creamy porridge and poured maple syrup on it before he sat down. There was nothing he could do to avoid Stefan except to make sure he was not alone. Stefan must have his own duties, so he could not spend his entire time trying to track Niall down. Hopefully, he would soon get bored.

“So, unlike last night, you can help me now?” Niall thought.

“No. Something was wrong about that, Stefan hates Niall but that was not a normal reaction. Pobble used the anomalous situation to simply remind Niall of basic fire safety. There was no fire, so how did Pobble help Niall?”

“Are there any more ‘anomalous situations’ that you want to share with me? Something that might save all of our lives?”

“Niall knows that there are things that Pobble cannot share. Pobble does not understand why is Niall complaining. That fight was good for him. Niall has done just enough to push him up by another Brawler level now.”

It being clear that Pobble was not going to explain any further, Niall pulled up his Testimony in morbid curiosity.

TESTIMONY: Niall Vendra

ATTRIBUTES

Strength: 31

Endurance: 42

Agility: 23

Will: 26

Perception: 30

CLASSES:

Junior Smallholder 6

Apprentice Blacksmith 6

Acolyte Healer 6

Hunter 3

Brawler 2

- Throw a punch 3

- Take a punch 2

UNALLOCATED SKILLS:

- Meditation 4

- Flow 6

- Steelmind 12

- Telepathy 1

“Is it bad I’m a little underwhelmed by my increases?”

“Niall is greedy. Even if it is an easy one, a new class and an extra level in two days is not normal. Anyway, Pobble thought Niall was sad about having a Brawler class. Now Niall is complaining the class is not good enough. There is a word for people like Niall.”

“OK, Pobble, I get it.”

“The word is hypocrite.”

“I get it.”

“Niall is a hypocrite.”

With the time he had lost after his encounter with Stefan, Niall did not have any more time to engage with Pobble further. Instead, he shovelled down as much of his porridge as he could in the few minutes he had left. After breakfast, the instructors marched them to a new area on the far side of the army camp. There was a rough circle marked out on the ground. Next to it were several racks of swords, some short, some longer, some metal and some of wood.

Sergeant Strang and Lieutenant Bligh were already in the ring when the recruits arrived. The two of them did not acknowledge the recruits as they arrived, focussing entirely on each other. Both of them had taken off their cloaks and were unarmoured, but the similarities ended there. The Lieutenant stood tall and held a longsword before herself with both hands. Pacing from side to side in front of her, the Sergeant held a short sword in one hand and a dagger in the other.

As the recruits looked on, the Sergeant launched an attack. His short sword swung low towards the Lieutenant’s knee only to be blocked by the longsword. This was just a feint however. The Sergeant used the block from the longsword to push off into a spin behind the Lieutenant and strike at her neck with his dagger. Just as Niall thought the Lieutenant’s neck was going to be slashed open, the officer fell into a roll, leaving the dagger to cut harmlessly through the air where her head had been.

It was now her time to attack. Somehow, she had kept hold of her sword and, as she rolled. She sprang to her feet. Her precise swing came across and interrupted the attack the Sergeant started with his short sword. It locked up the older man’s blade and then sent it flying across the ring. The longsword continued its path as the cross guard punched into the Sergeant’s face, knocking him to the ground with a spray of blood. The Lieutenant looked over at the Sergeant in triumph, then looked down to see the dagger sticking out of her stomach.

She grinned. “A draw Sergeant?”

“A draw, Sir.”

The two of them continued to ignore the recruits as they cleaned and put away their weapons. The Lieutenant pulled off her blood-stained shirt and put on a fresh one. Niall could not see any sign on her body of the hole the dagger must have made. It was clear the Lieutenant’s healing skills were beyond what Niall could do.

Finally, the Lieutenant picked up two metal short swords from the rack and held one up in each hand. “Recruits, as militia you will have two weapons. You were introduced to the spear yesterday and today we will introduce you to the short sword. Be very clear, the spear is your primary weapon. If a Bulvine is close enough for you to use your short sword you are almost certainly dead. Once you leave this place, most of the time you will be using your spears inside your village or town walls or temporary barriers. That is your best chance of survival. However, when we are out on our field exercises we will be fighting behind shield walls, and shield walls can break, as can spears. At that point, you will have to fight using swords.”

“You and you,” The Lieutenant pointed at the two largest recruits. “Come forward.”

Somewhat hesitantly, one of the big men stepped forward. The other was about to get to his feet when the man next to him rose faster and went up ahead of him. The Lieutenant stared at the other man for a long moment then shrugged and handed each of them a metal sword. For her own part, she picked up a wooden sword. “Attack me.”

The first man charged at the Lieutenant. The Lieutenant let him come then, as he approached, she stepped to one side. With a flick Niall could barely follow, the Lieutenant disarmed the man and with a slap on his backside sent him flying to the ground. She held the point of the wooden sword to the man’s neck. “You are dead.”

The Lieutenant then turned to the other man. “Recruit, you decided you wanted to play in this game. So, play. I gave you an order. Do you remember what you are to do when I give you an order?”

“Yes, Sir.” The man responded immediately.

“Yet, recruit, you did not follow that order. It seems that the lesson has not sunk in. Allow me to teach it to you again.”

The man held his sword awkwardly in his hand as the Lieutenant advanced. Niall winced internally. He willed the man to at least try to attack before the Lieutenant reached him. Although unlikely, it may reduce the beating that the Lieutenant was going to hand out. His hope was for naught though.

The Lieutenant stalked up to the man. She seemed irritated that the man stood taller than her. “Well? Are you going to attack?”

The man looked down at the sword and then stared at the air above the Lieutenant’s head. “No, Sir.” he shouted.

The Lieutenant turned her back on the man and then took a deep breath. Then in blur she turned and aimed a vicious blow at the man’s face. Niall flinched in anticipation of the blow and then looked in amazement. The man had blocked the Lieutenant’s strike.