Rejji rose and followed the leader of the Zaldoni into the predawn night. Already men were starting to move along the pathways as Wyant led Rejji towards the village of huts. Rejji was impressed at the size of the village. He had already passed ten times the number of huts that his village had and there appeared to be no end of them in sight.
In what appeared to be the center of the village, there was a large open area with dozens of campfire rings. Several were already in use and men were waving and calling to Wyant as they entered the square. Wyant appeared to be very popular with his men and there were many invitations to have the morning meal with the warriors. Wyant joked about the men’s cooking and finally sat on a bench near a camp ring that had a large kettle suspended over the fire. Rejji recognized one of the men from the patrol that had captured him.
“Klavin,” Wyant called, “you have a new pupil. His name is Rejji.”
“I don’t cater to training spies,” Klavin growled. “What am I to make out of him?”
“A fine warrior like yourself,” grinned Wyant. “If you are really good at training the lad, I won’t put him in your hut.”
The other men roared with laughter and even Klavin smiled and nodded. “Alright then,” he agreed, “I’ll try to mold a warrior out of the toad, but I ought to be getting double rations for such an impossible chore.”
Wyant slapped Klavin on the back and grabbed a bowl of stew. He introduced Rejji to the men sitting around the kettle and then walked off with his bowl of stew.
Rejji ate silently and listened to the banter of the other men. If the slaughter of his village hadn’t been such a vivid memory, Rejji could almost have felt at home with these bandits. There was a bond amongst them and sitting there as one of them, Rejji almost felt like he was part of a brotherhood of some type. While he couldn’t condone the acts of the bandits, he was finally beginning to understand the allure such groups held for youngsters from the villages.
The morning meal was unhurried and then the group disbanded and went their separate ways. Klavin finally rose and nodded to Rejji.
“Come along then, squire,” he grinned. “It is time to see what you are made of.
Rejji rose and followed Klavin to a large field beyond the stables. He picked up a couple of wooden swords and tossed one to Rejji. Rejji grabbed the sword and stood there holding it with one hand. Klavin scowled and shook his head.
“By the gods, lad,” he growled, “have you no training at all?”
He walked over to Rejji and grabbed Rejji’s free hand and placed it on the hilt.
“Hold the sword with both hands,” he instructed. “It is the only thing between you and death so never let your grip on it go slack. Here hold it like this.”
Klavin always acted like teaching Rejji was a hopeless endeavor, but the giant of a man kept at it. He walked Rejji through a proper posture and ways to block attacks. The whole morning was spent on defensive maneuvering and Rejji was black and blue all over. As soon as Rejji learned to block one stroke, Klavin changed his attack to a different stroke. Rejji was sure the giant was having a great deal of fun bruising him, but he was determined to learn all that he could. Around high sun, they broke for a meal.
As they sat around the same kettle eating the midday meal, Klavin entertained the rest of the men with stories about how hopeless Rejji was. Rejji remained silent and ate his stew. Towards the end of the meal, a slight man came over to Rejji from another group.
“Take off your tunic, lad,” the man said softly.
Rejji looked quizzically at the man, but removed his tunic. The man ran his hands over Rejji’s chest and felt his ribs. He then tilted Rejji’s head back and felt around the boy’s puffed up eye.
“Nothing serious, lad,” the man smiled. “I am called Gregnic, the closest thing to a healer you are likely to find in these parts. Let me put some ointment on that cut over your eye and you will be fine.”
The other men around the kettle started to tease Klavin about not even breaking one of the boy’s ribs as Gregnic applied the ointment. The ointment stung, but Rejji remained silent. He was determined not to let the others know how much he was hurting.
“Thank you.” Rejji said when the healer was done.
“I live in the first hut by the command center,” Gregnic offered. “You might want to stop by after the afternoon session. I will see what I can do to ease the pain. Whatever you do,” he whispered, “don’t get Klavin mad. He’s a killer.”
As Gregnic rose to leave, Klavin called over to Rejji, “Remember his name, lad. You’ll be seeing a lot of him.”
The men around the kettle howled with laughter and Rejji put his tunic back on. He rose and put his bowl on the bench.
“Are we training this afternoon,” he called to Klavin, “or do I know everything already?”
“Why you little pup,” growled Klavin and then he broke out laughing. “So I am not teaching you fast enough, eh? Come along then little warrior and let us have some more fun.”
Klavin turned and headed down the path without waiting for Rejji. The other men had questioning expressions on their faces as Rejji rose and followed Klavin towards the field. Rejji could see that he might have been a little childish with his remarks in front of the other men, but Rejji knew he only had limited time to learn before Mistake pressured him to leave. When Klavin tossed Rejji the wooden sword, Rejji grabbed the sword and held it point down to the ground.
“Klavin,” he stated, “I know you don’t want to be teaching me, and I know you are taking that frustration out on me by punishing my body, but think about this. There may come a time soon when I am at your back in battle. It might be my blade between you and some opponent you can’t see. I don’t ever expect to be a warrior of your caliber, but I do want to learn to handle myself. I need your help to do that. Will you train me?”
Klavin stood for a long time staring at the boy. Finally, he nodded.
“Alright, lad, I’ll train you,” he said. “Don’t think that means the bruises will stop though. You aren’t going to learn without feeling your mistakes. If you are serious about learning, I will make you learn, but trust me, you will be sleeping well every night.”
“Thank you,” Rejji said as he picked up his wooden sword and held it before himself with two hands.
Klavin was true to his word and he taught Rejji until the evening meal. Rejji was bruised anew, but the new bruises represented Rejji’s mistakes and not punishment from Klavin. Klavin nodded approvingly when Rejji suggested more practice after the evening meal and they returned to the field and continued training.
By the time Rejji returned to the command center from the practice field, he was dead on his feet. As sore as he was, he did not stop at Gregnic’s hut, but went straight to the meeting room and stretched out on the floor. He was vaguely aware of Wyant checking on him and locking the door and he thought he saw Mistake again that night, but he wasn’t sure if it was a dream or not.
The days began to blur together as Rejji spent every free moment training with the giant. Klavin was indeed a good warrior and a good trainer. After the fifth day, Rejji was able to stay awake after he reached the meeting room and he found out that Mistake had been visiting him every night. He also found out that she was stealing food out of the storage sheds and had managed to acquire some throwing daggers with arm and leg sheaths. Before Rejji knew it, his two weeks had gone by.
“You said two weeks,” Mistake complained as they sat in the dark corner farthest from the door. “Now you want more time? I knew you would not leave.”
“Just a little bit more,” pleaded Rejji. “I have just started to learn to ride a couple of days ago. I could not acquire knowledge this quickly anywhere other than here. What is wrong with me learning to take care of myself?”
“It is not the learning,” Mistake stated. “I think you are beginning to enjoy your life here. Have you forgotten your pledge to help me find the Sage?”