Forged in Frost

First Task

When Evelyn steps out of the basement corridor with Caius, a new sense of power lifts her spirit. If this man accepts her—the trainer, no less—then it doesn't matter if the rest think it's a joke.

Her theory is correct; the looks become more hesitant, the comments, either hushed or kept silent. Evelyn approaches General Asher with a triumphant smile.

"I hear there is a task for us?" she asks him.

Asher consults the list in front of him without glancing at her. "For the men out front."

"Can I join them?"

"I'll take her," Caius says, fitting another sword into a sheath at his side. "Get our feet wet."

Asher's eyes flicker between them. "We already have the men we need."

"I'm sure Prynveil won't be opposed to more men killing their bears," says Caius.

Asher levels his gaze, despite Caius being taller. "No, but they've allotted a certain amount of coin for our pay. If we send more men, they get paid less."

"How many do we need?"

"They said ten would be sufficient."

"Then ten it'll be," says Caius, and turns away. "Come, recruit."

Evelyn realizes a second later he means her. She follows him to the rack of weapons.

"What do you fight with?" Caius asks.

Evelyn scans over the wooden stand. It's been picked over, leaving a haphazard assortment of swords, daggers, maces, clubs, axes, and other things Evelyn can't even name.

"I don't know," she says stupidly.

"Ever worn a sword?"

"A dagger, never a sword."

"Let's try this," Caius says, and plucks a shortsword and dagger from the rack. "Fix them to your belt. Do you write with your right hand or your left?"

"My right."

"Then fix the sword here," Caius says, pointing to a sheath on her left hip. "That way, when you draw it, you pull it fully across your body."

"And this dagger?"

"The right hip. That's just in case you lose your sword. Now, a small buckler would be handy." He sorts through a couple of round shields leaning against the corner wall. "This should do."

"What are you doing?" Asher asks, interrupting them.

"Outfitting this recruit." Caius hands her the buckler. "Loop this over your sword hilt," he tells her.

"The other men could all get dressed on their own," Asher says.

"She's never worn a sword before."

"She'll figure it out."

Caius fully straightens to face him. "Is there a problem?"

"Of course not," says Asher, smiling placidly. "Being a professional, Caius, I trust you won't give any special attention to any recruit, for any reason."

Caius chuckles, surprising Evelyn. "If you want help with your sword, just ask, pretty boy."

Asher blinks at him. "Excuse me?"

Caius eyes Evelyn. "We have bears to kill," he says, and heads outside. Evelyn relishes Asher's reddening face for one more second before she follows him.

Outside, she joins the group of men near a shrub at the building's entrance. Ages range from early twenties to mid-thirties, as far as Evelyn can guess.