When Liam was woken again, very early the next morning, he was aching all
over his body, in places he hadn't even known that it was possible to hurt.
He also had a number of colourful bruises all down his front, in
delightful shades of purple, blue, grey and brown. He dressed quickly, not
wanting to be late again, and, when the whole of the dormitory was ready,
ran off for his exercises. They went on much the same as they had the
previous day. When Gary ventured a mildly irritated comment, he was told,
"If you want to strengthen your muscles, you do the correct exercises for as long as you live. It's the only way to become a Shang warrior."
The girl, Sarlie, rejoined their table. Her right arm was splinted expertly and bound very tightly across her chest. She was looking very pale, scowling and had dark shadows under her eyes, as if she hadn't slept all night.
"I'm leaving," she announced, glaring at them as if they were going to contradict her. "I've got a broken arm already, and I don't want to kill myself in training like you idiots. No wonder there are hardly any girls here, we're far too sensible. You might want to reconsider too. How much are you willing to damage yourself on the chance that you might become a soldier? You do know that usually only half of a barracks actually become Shang warriors and the rest are sent home as failures, don't you?"
Liam stared at her in amazement. She'd only just arrived, and she was quitting already! What a wimp. He'd broken his arm twice already back home, and his leg once, and he was still here. Warriors had to take injuries without complaint; it was one of the things that made a true warrior, in his view. When he thought about the time his mother rode for three days with a broken leg because she'd exhausted her Gift healing her men. She was a real hero.
Liam was working in the kitchen today, as his first chore, because they rotated around so as to learn as many different jobs as possible. Marek noticed his puzzled, mournful look and understood immediately what he was thinking.
"Don't look so depressed, kid. Honestly, I mean, if she's dropping out just because of a broken arm, she'd never have made it anyway, and the sooner she leaves the better. My barracks has lost three kids so far, and we're supposed to be a good year. You look like you have the guts to go all the way, so I wouldn't worry too much about it. Is your dad a soldier?"
"Yeah," Liam replied, omitting the fact that his mother was a more famous one.
"Well, you know what warriors are meant to be able to do then, unlike some of these greenies. Think about it, and you'll see that I'm right. You don't want a wimp like her at your side, wasting valuable training time."
Marek himself was acknowledged by most of them as one of the most promising students that had been seen in years. He had a lot of empathy with people, as well as great martial skills, which made him seem even more impressive, and the youngest students hero-worshipped him almost as a body. He was sent out with a warrior for his journeyman period soon after that, on the very day that he reached his thirteenth birthday. Since that was the very minimum age, it was an excellent sign that the teachers agreed with their students about his capabilities.
It was at about the same sort of time that another of Liam's barracks dropped out, one of the older boys. Liam was very surprised, because the boy in question had looked very promising, and he'd been sure that he'd go far. Still, maybe some people didn't love the work like he did, however hard that was to believe, and would rather be working in fields or apprenticed to carpenters.
The next autumn, when the new training group arrived, Liam looked at them critically. They all seemed plump compared to his barracks. Their co- ordination was abysmal and he wondered that any of them could actually run looking at their shakiness. Even the oldest of them appeared much younger than even Martin, but that was probably because Martin had grown up a lot in the past year, because of over exposure to boys like Liam, and had been working hard all of that time.
"If you want to strengthen your muscles, you do the correct exercises for as long as you live. It's the only way to become a Shang warrior."
The girl, Sarlie, rejoined their table. Her right arm was splinted expertly and bound very tightly across her chest. She was looking very pale, scowling and had dark shadows under her eyes, as if she hadn't slept all night.
"I'm leaving," she announced, glaring at them as if they were going to contradict her. "I've got a broken arm already, and I don't want to kill myself in training like you idiots. No wonder there are hardly any girls here, we're far too sensible. You might want to reconsider too. How much are you willing to damage yourself on the chance that you might become a soldier? You do know that usually only half of a barracks actually become Shang warriors and the rest are sent home as failures, don't you?"
Liam stared at her in amazement. She'd only just arrived, and she was quitting already! What a wimp. He'd broken his arm twice already back home, and his leg once, and he was still here. Warriors had to take injuries without complaint; it was one of the things that made a true warrior, in his view. When he thought about the time his mother rode for three days with a broken leg because she'd exhausted her Gift healing her men. She was a real hero.
Liam was working in the kitchen today, as his first chore, because they rotated around so as to learn as many different jobs as possible. Marek noticed his puzzled, mournful look and understood immediately what he was thinking.
"Don't look so depressed, kid. Honestly, I mean, if she's dropping out just because of a broken arm, she'd never have made it anyway, and the sooner she leaves the better. My barracks has lost three kids so far, and we're supposed to be a good year. You look like you have the guts to go all the way, so I wouldn't worry too much about it. Is your dad a soldier?"
"Yeah," Liam replied, omitting the fact that his mother was a more famous one.
"Well, you know what warriors are meant to be able to do then, unlike some of these greenies. Think about it, and you'll see that I'm right. You don't want a wimp like her at your side, wasting valuable training time."
Marek himself was acknowledged by most of them as one of the most promising students that had been seen in years. He had a lot of empathy with people, as well as great martial skills, which made him seem even more impressive, and the youngest students hero-worshipped him almost as a body. He was sent out with a warrior for his journeyman period soon after that, on the very day that he reached his thirteenth birthday. Since that was the very minimum age, it was an excellent sign that the teachers agreed with their students about his capabilities.
It was at about the same sort of time that another of Liam's barracks dropped out, one of the older boys. Liam was very surprised, because the boy in question had looked very promising, and he'd been sure that he'd go far. Still, maybe some people didn't love the work like he did, however hard that was to believe, and would rather be working in fields or apprenticed to carpenters.
The next autumn, when the new training group arrived, Liam looked at them critically. They all seemed plump compared to his barracks. Their co- ordination was abysmal and he wondered that any of them could actually run looking at their shakiness. Even the oldest of them appeared much younger than even Martin, but that was probably because Martin had grown up a lot in the past year, because of over exposure to boys like Liam, and had been working hard all of that time.
