Two days came and two days went. In what was generally accepted as not nearly enough time, the 106-strong training Company stood at parade, ready for their short test at an hour before dawn. A half-hour of drill followed, followed by a half-hour of marching around Valience Keep. Sergeant Kilroy took the group, barking turns, wheels, inclines and other basic maneuvers. Amidst a simple march, they were suddenly pelted with rocks. It was barely first light and the shadows of the walls around them kept everything dark still.
"SHIELDS UP!" Kilroy bellowed, prompting the Company to hastily form a shield wall. Barnaby was in the front rank and guessed the throwers were forty paces in front of them.
"ADVANCE!" They advanced at the rocks and through the ill-coordinated timing of the march there were retreating footsteps. In their wake were a score of target dummies, designed to be knocked over.
There was no order to charge and the ranks did their best to swing at and knock the dummies down without breaking pace. His own side began to break up, but a shout from the second rank checked the more eager and the line gradually straightened. The rocks were coming from forty-five degrees to the left now.
"LEFT INCLINE! ADVANCE!"
Barnaby angled himself forty-five degrees, toward the new threat. They were now in a bastardised wedge formation and continued.
"LINE OFF BY THE CENTER!"
The two edges pushed up as quickly as possible. Barnaby tried to count how far from the tip he was and decided to fall into the second rank instead. Someone tripped.
"HURRY UP!"
They still weren't in formation by the time the rocks stopped, but they continued on anyway. someone else tripped, causing another to fall. Until dawn it was just chasing rocks, doing full turns and about turns, adjusting pace and spacing at random and the occasional swing at a dummy. It was quite boring really.
They halted in front of a hundred straw dummies when that was done.
"Now for the final order." Kilroy said amiably. "COMPANY! CHARGE!"
Honestly, Barnaby saw that one coming. With a thunderous roar, the ranks became a horde as each raced one another to strike down targets. Barnaby had once again been in the front rank, but by the time he had felled two, another had leapfrogged past him and he couldn't work his way back into the front ranks. He pushed at the men in front of him until the order to stop was given.
For a test to see whether you could function in war, it was pretty underwhelming.
Then it was more sparring in a tournament-styled arrangement, designed to last until midday. To structure it better, the first twenty-two losses competed again at the end of the round to produce sixty-four winners. Barnaby was pitted against a Lordaeron kid his age and won in two bouts. Jon, Riley, Katherine and most of the militiamen won their rounds. Decklyn had been pitted against Daniels and lost in four seconds flat. He also saw Elizabeth lose twice somewhere along the line.
The second round was still a matter of sifting the skilled from the rest. Barnaby won out against Marcus, managing to apply a headbutt to the amusement of everyone else. Riley was beaten by Acara, and after a nasty match of twenty-two bouts, Katherine had beaten Harris.
Round 3 began the murmurings of wagers and cheering. Barnaby stepped in against Redfield - Jon.
"I'll tear your arm off and beat your skull to shattered pieces with it! Then I'll set your carcass on fire and cast it off the highest tower in the Keep!"
"Not before I rend your stomach open and make you feast on your own entrails! And then I'll flay your face off with my fingernails and wear you like a mask!"
A lot of 'Ohhh's' and laughs resounced and the two were both inwardly grinning. They would have to decide later whom thought up the most unsettling, vicious threat before the five copper was exchanged as agreed.
Jon came in quickly, opening with a vertical blow. Before it connected, Barnaby rushed forward and pummeled him with his shield. Another step forward to pursue the staggering foe, he swung low beneath the shield, striking Jon's sabaton. Cheap shot, but still a 'wound'.
"Oh come on!"
"Weren't expecting that, were ya?" Barnaby snickered from behind his helmet, who now launched his own offensive. The next four bouts were tough, with Barnaby throwing in the occasional pommel or kick to the groin. Eventually Jon lowered his shield an inch too far and Barnaby's sword struck his helmet.
"Ha! Win."
"You fight dirty, you bastard?"
Round 4 came quickly enough. With 16 members left, this was when it got interesting. The fights were longer and more vicious now for the boast of being top dog was at stake. Katherine, the seemingly-invincible Daniels, Acara and a few others were his opponents. Suprisingly (or perhaps not surprisingly at all), old man Anthony was still in the running.
Katherine won again, as did Daniels. Barnaby was pitted against Recruit Gerard, a particularly vicious man about ten years his senior. He swung the sword like a meat cleaver, leaving Barnaby to block and wheel and backpedal constantly. All his other opponents had been overwhelmed by sheer attrition, but they had taken his punishment. Barnaby decided to never let Gerard find purchase. Blows that didn't miss outright were simply deflected. Technically it was one long bout, but after a few minutes the older footman began to tire.
Barnaby suddenly dug his heels in as the next blow came downward, stepping left and letting the sword glide down the length of his blade. Predictably, the next blow would come across at his undefended side as Barnaby lined up an identical move. But Gerard was slow from fatigue and the swing found only the tip of Barnaby's plume, who had crouched and swung his blunted sword into the side of his enemie's knee. He followed through with an upward thrust under the right pauldron, completing the 'kill'.
"Cheater!" Gerard shouted. "He cheated!"
"Get the fuck out of my ring, mate." Barnaby said almost amiably with an invisible grin. With a roar, Gerard launched at him, restarting the fight. He swung three times before Briston had tackled him. A short scrap ensued, ending when a half dozen others came to the rescue. Barnaby melted back into the crowd next to Jon.
"Sore loser" Jon remarked.
"You can say that again."
Eight fighters were left at round's end. Barnaby found himself against another militiaman, who fought defensively. Barnaby was reduced to cheap tricks again, from stomping on the man's foot to trip him up as he withdrew to reefing his shield to pull him forward from time to time. A half-dozen bouts ensued with little gain. He couldn't break this man's defence - he needed to outmaneuver him.
Barnaby lowered his shield a fraction as he brought a blow down overhead. Easily blocked, but the blow was light - a feint. His opponent thrusted in counterattack. As he did so, Barnaby stepped right to bring the shield back between the blade and himself as he struck downward again. The blade tracked along the edge of the shield and clipped the man's gauntlet. Wound.
Everyone was cheering now. Barnaby knew he couldn't get away with that twice - his opponent was much more careful now - and tried a few more tricks. Swinging low never worked and neither did enticing an attack. He would need to do something utterly unexpected to get in.
He waited for his moment, circling and swinging. Despite the surprising increase in fitness in two mere weeks, Barnaby was tiring. When he saw a chance, he swung a wide arc down and left at hsi foe's helmet. The shield went up and another strike guaranteed a retaliation. This thrust struck Barnaby's shield. He angled it away, letting the blow glide along the shield's length, then suddenly stepped in and rammed the edge of his shield into the man's breastplate. He reeled, but Barnaby was inside. A pommel struck his foe's helmet once, twice, thrice. The other footman kept trying to back out and gain space, but Barnaby stepped on his foot again.
The man toppled and Barnaby stomped on his sword arm before he could attempt anything. From there it was a quick thrust to the armpit and a resounding cheer went up.
Top 4.
Katherine won. Acara lost to Daniels and out of nowhere, Anthony secured his place with them. The next fight was drawn.
"Grathier and Katherine!"