Ivo Phillipson And The Trojan Horse

VI - Training

Ivo

During training, Will and I were forced to socialise with the other recruits. We did this with a sight reluctance but agreed it would be best for our lives in the city if we made some friends. There was really only one boy we found a liking to - Agrion Atronsson, another recruit the same age as Will and I. He was shorter than average but had an extra foot worth of wit and sarcasm and a temper he struggled to control. Our sarcastic new friend had an uncontrollable mat of fiery red hair to match his temper and was dotted with freckles across his nose and cheeks. His wit and temper were not good combination as his tongue would often run ahead of him and he would find himself in a bad situation, surrounded by three or four attackers twice his size. Then, he got angry and that only served to make the situation worse. More than once, Will and I had to help him out of such situations.

I glanced over at Agrion during drill training today and saw him struggling to hold the heavy wooden shield off the ground. His iron sword rang against the drill post every time he swung it. Forehand. Backhand. Side cut. Overhead cut. With every stroke and every ring of the sword, chips of wood went flying.
"You there!" The drill sergeant shouted, my stupor interrupted. "Centre post, front row!" I turned to look at him as I realised he was talking to me.
"Yes sir?" I reply evenly.
"What do you think you are doing?" He shouts at me, his face inches from mine and almost purple with anger.
"The drills Sir. That is what you told me to do Sir." I reply in the same even voice. The sergeant nodded a few times before replying, his face returning to its usual tanned shade.
"That is true. That is what I told you to do. Then answer me this, Mr Smart Ass, why were you staring at Shorty over there?" he replies in a calm, but loud voice, "You day-dreaming about him? Do you like red head men? Do you want to screw him? Is that what you were doing?"
"No Sir, not at all Sir," I reply, my even voice getting a bit defensive. "I was actually mentally correcting his technique."
"Is that so?" The sergeant replied, his voice falsely sweet. "Would you care to take the session today? Or at least, instruct your little friend on how to fight properly?"
"Please don't let him Sir," a loud drawling voice called from the back, "I don't want the new batch of city watch members turning into the lying, crap, spineless whoremongers that this boy is. I am sure you don't too, if you don't mind me saying that is." I turn around to find that the speaker was Hekrios – one of the least savoury people I've met. I could have sworn he hated me already. The twenty-year-old man had a handsome face with a strong jawline. His dark brown hair was shaved short and the same colour filled his seemingly cold, merciless eyes. Easily over six foot with muscles bulging from his arms and legs, he was probably what soldiers saw in their nightmares. I struggled to contain my anger at his taunts. Don't react, that is what he wants, I told myself over and over again, repeating it like a mantra as Hekrios shot a smirk in my direction.
"As it so happens, trainee, I do mind," the Sergeant replied, annoyance evident in his voice, "and if you don't learn to shut up, you will be getting a lesson from me personally that you will never forget," he said threateningly, cracking his knuckles as he did. Hekrios' face grew stoney as he swallowed nervously before replying,
"Sorry Sir. Won't happen again Sir!"
"See that it doesn't," the Sergeant ordered, "Well?" he asked looking around at the rest of us, "Why are you all just standing there? Get a spear and start the spear drills! You there, don't you move. You're coming with me!" he said jabbing a finger to my chest. With a fearful glance at Will, I nodded gravely. "Yes Sir" I replied. He looked me in the eyes before he spoke and I saw not anger, but kindness in the light brown eyes. "Go help your friend," he said kindly, "go on. Take the rest of this session and teach him the proper technique. You are good enough with the spear to be able to skip the session. Go on!" I was slightly surprised by this unforeseen character from the sargent, but I was in no place to question it. I turned to Agrion and took him to the side as far away from Hekrios as possible. As I directed him through the proper use of the sword I couldn't help but swell with pride at the sergeant's words.