09 Running

"Faster, boy! Faster!"

The sun warmed his face as he watched Balan run.

He nodded in approval when Balan handed him the arrow. "Good."

Tristan placed the arrow on his bow again and bit back a grin when he saw the appalled look on the boy's face. He let loose and the arrow flew back to the target, about two hundred yards away across a shallow dip in the hill.

Balan stood with his arms folded, watching him sceptically.

"Go!" Tristan urged. "Go get it again."

He could tell that the boy was fuming.

Nonetheless, Balan ran down the rolling slope of the hill and up on the other side to retrieve the arrow from its target.

A little while later the panting boy returned to the top of the hill where Tristan stood, and handed back the arrow a second time.

"Very good!"

Tristan laughed inwardly at the expression in Balan's eyes when he picked up his bow a third time and neatly returned the arrow to the target.

Balan turned to run down the slope again, but this time Tristan stopped him.

"Wait," he said.

He pulled nine more arrows from his quiver and shot them, one by one, into the target.

Then he pointed across the valley.

"You run to the target and return the arrows to me one at a time. You will get tired, but I want you to keep running as fast as you can."

Balan nodded.

"If I do not think you've run as fast as you can, I will shoot the arrow back into the target and you will have to do it again."

Balan frowned, but said nothing.

"You may not stop or rest, until you have returned all of the arrows to me."

He handed the boy his waterskin. "Drink something boy, you'll be needing it."

The first two arrows had been relatively easy. A little too easy perhaps, for with the second arrow he had not really tried very hard, and Tristan had promptly shot the arrow back into the target.

With a shrug Balan turned around and ran down the slope to retrieve the arrow a second time.

He noticed that he was beginning to feel his legs.

Ignoring the feeling, he pulled the arrow from the target and ran back down the slope to the bottom of the shallow valley. Then up on the other side to return the arrow to Tristan. This time Tristan put it back into his quiver.

Retrieving the third arrow became an inner battle of willpower. He forced his legs to move as fast as they normally did when he was running, but he only barely managed to make them do so. He had to push himself so hard that it hurt.

Noticing how this inner battle was rapidly exhausting him, he realized he was never going to be able to retrieve the remaining seven arrows this way. So upon retrieving the fourth one, he still ran rather fast, but he did not push himself to his limits any longer.

Tristan calmly shot the arrow back into the target.

Remembering his father's lessons on saving his energy, Balan did not curse, nor did he complain. He turned around and focused on his strides, trying to ignore the pain in his chest and the dull throbbing in his head that occasionally clouded his vision.

With the arrow in his hand he forced himself back up the hill, but he didn't even come close to the speed he had had with the first few arrows. Ignoring the dreadful thought that Tristan might shoot the arrow back to the target, Balan focused on his body, pushing himself further and further to his limits.

When he reached the top, Tristan was waiting for him with the waterskin and ordered him to drink. Then he was sent off again.

Balan was halfway down the slope when he realized that Tristan had accepted the arrow. Only six more to go.

After three goes at the fifth arrow, Balan was reduced to tears. He had to struggle to keep putting one leg in front of the other and still make it look like running.

"You are not trying hard enough," Tristan kept telling him.

Finally, Tristan accepted the fifth arrow, but that still meant he had five more arrows to go.

The sixth arrow was a nightmare. When Tristan shot it back to the target for the fifth time, Balan sank to his knees, gasping that he couldn't possibly walk anymore.

Tristan pulled him back to his feet and shoved him towards the slope. "Run boy!"

Tripping over his own feet, not bothering to fight back his tears, Balan stumbled down the slope. He was no longer able to run. He just moved forward. His entire body was aching and his vision went black several times. He frequently fell, but he got to his feet as fast as he could, so that Tristan would not see it as a reason to shoot the arrow back.

Balan made sure not to linger at the target – as Tristan had previously seen this as a reason not to accept the arrow – and he set himself to the tormenting task of returning the arrow to the scout.

Before he was halfway up the slope, he was at the end of his strength. Breathing had become so painful that he had to stop to gasp for air. Further up the slope he saw Tristan shake his head. Numb with pain and exhaustion he moved onwards, hoping against all odds that Tristan would change his mind.

When Tristan finally took the sixth arrow from his hand, he sank to the grass and barely even noticed that Tristan shot the arrow back to the target.

"Come on, boy!" Tristan urged.

"I can't," Balan whimpered weakly.

"Yes you can," Tristan replied calmly but determinedly.

He put the boy back on his feet, but this time he remained by the boy's side as he stumbled down the slope.

Half walking, half crawling, Balan managed to reach the target. The pain became unbearable and his body refused to move when he struggled back to return the arrow to the hill. Several times he fell flat on his face, but Tristan kept pulling him up and urging him on.

Finally his world became black and he knew no more.

AN: A very Spartan training for Balan. To all those who wish to kill me for tormenting the boy so: Do remember that Tristan is training Balan for the battlefield. If Balan is to survive hordes of menacing Saxons, fanatic Woads and other vile creatures all eager to end his young life, he has to be prepared properly. Tristan knows what he is doing.

Do not try this at home with your brothers, sons or boyfriends, though! Pushing someone to the point of complete exhaustion like this is not without risk! Especially for children!