Book 2, Chapter 102 - Talen (1/2)

The next day, before the morning sun crept into the barracks tent…

A loud alarm bell sounded. Its harsh sound shattered the trainees’ sleep.

Years in the wastelands had taught Cloudhawk to be a light sleeper. Even the slightest change in light, temperature or sound was enough to wake him up. He was the first one of his team to climb out of bed.

Oddball came to as well. It turned its puffy little head to the left and right a few times, keen eyes on a spot outside of the barracks tent. Cloudhawk’s companion seemed to see something out of the ordinary, because it began tweeting furiously.

What’s up?

A creeping sense of disquiet came over him. “Get down!”

The others were nursing aches and pains, earned from days of hard work and uncomfortable cots. The disorienting haze of sleep quickly fled at Cloudhawk’s scream. Although they didn’t kno what was going on, the sharp noise of something whistling through the air was obvious. Instincts kicked in and they hit the dirt.

An arrow ripped through the burlap tent and into one of the beds. It drilled right through leaving a sizable hole behind.

That was just the beginning. Moments later hundreds more arrows followed, fast as bullets and far more deadly. Beds were shot to splinters from arrows that lanced through their tent like lasers. Shards of wood exploded everywhere.

“Everyone out!”

Cloudhawk led the others toward the exit, scrambling along the floor on all fours. Outside, their sleeping quarters were surrounded by several hundred soldiers with bows. No wonder they’d been attacked by so many at once. It was a whole archer corps out here!

If they hadn’t been sleeping in their armor, they wouldn’t have been able to respond as quickly. Without Cloudhawk’s warning, many of his team would have awakened to arrows in their guts. Groggy and wounded, they wouldn’t have stood a chance.

It would have been flat-out murder!

Cloudhawk shot to his feet and called to his team. “Form up!”

The others arranged themselves into four lines. In a few short seconds Tartarus squad was at attention.

The sun had yet to rise over the horizon, it had to be about four in the morning. The veteran soldiers were already standing in orderly rows with team captains at the fore. Tartarus squad’s own assistant instructors were also standing nearby. In the middle of them all was a man-shaped fortress clad from head to toe in armor. One of the giants of Hell’s Valley, Dumont.

Dumont stared at the trainees, already in their lines. Narrows eyes peered doubtfully through the slit in his helmet, but he had to admit this new batch was especially vigilant.

One of the assistants marched off at a brisk pace. His sonorous voice blasted through the camp. “Hell’s Army is assembled. Marching orders are fifty kilometers of cross-country training. Move out!”

Fifty kilometers? Even through the rough terrain of the valley, it didn’t sound so bad. A little challenging maybe, that’s all. At the assistant’s command the veteran teams fell into position, one after the other.

Cloudhawk allowed himself to take a breath. “You heard him. Fifty kilometers long-distance training, let’s go!”

“Stop! Not yet.”

The assistants walked over. They forced the members of Tartarus squad to shoulder weighty packs. Fifty kilometers stretched before them, just like the veterans, only their training would be different. “Your job is to haul this weight across the valley, fifty kilometers. You got five hours – miss the deadline and it’s five lashes. The slowest half of your team to get there will get three lashes. Now move!”

Everyone’s faces fell. They weren’t at all prepared for this.

The sack on Cloudhawk’s shoulders was at least several hundred kilograms. Strong as he was, it was still not going to be easy to cross mountainous terrain with so much weight.

One of the assistants unfurled his whip, ready to use it.

There was nothing for it. Cloudhawk called to the others. “Let’s go! Get moving!”

The trainees of Tartarus squad grit their teeth and started off.

Cloudhawk soon discovered that everyone’s load was different. Drake, for example, had a pack at least twice as heavy as his. Gabriel’s was slightly lighter. Somehow, although Cloudhawk couldn’t guess how, the assistants knew what each trainee could handle and weighed them down with their upper limit. It made for more effective training, to be sure.

Exhausting! And the paths through the valley did not make for an easy stroll.

If it were only a short time, the excess weight they carried wouldn’t have been an issue. However, fifty kilometers was anything but a short time. They couldn’t lose half a step in their stride or they would feel it. Who could stand such an overwhelming test of their endurance?!

But the fact that the trainees had made it this far proved their perseverance.

The trek was grueling, but they all made it. The ones who fell behind got their three lashes, and without a moment’s rest they were on to the next set of exercise. They were gathered up in the training yard and participated in an arduous regimen of physical and mental military training drills.

Lunch was fifteen minutes long.

Food was marginally better than what they had in the hole they were thrown in back in Deadwood Forest, but only slightly. It was still mainly herbs, roots and mutant insects – hardly the normal fare for Skycloud’s haughty elite. Yet, they had learned to accept it during their time in isolation. After such strenuous exercise they were desperate, for anything that’d give them energy. They’d almost eat bowls of shit at this point.

The afternoon was taken up with combat training.

It was led by Eckard and his assistants. Duels were arranged at random, or set between trainees and a veteran soldier or assistant. Losers got two lashes instead of dinner.

They were only given ten minutes to shove a supper of sticks and bugs into their mouths. Most didn’t get to finish.

By the time night rolled around the trainees weren’t just tired, they were dead on their feet, beaten black and blue. Some of them were also half-starved. The veteran squads they’d trained with callously ate their meals and disbanded to recover from the day.

Had their first day finally come to an end?

Cloudhawk was preparing to bring the others to their newly constructed barracks tent when he was given news. Tartarus squad still had theory courses scheduled at night.