FicWad

Part Two

"How did your visit home go?" Nooj asked the girl as she unpacked her bag and stowed the contents in the foot locker and rickety standing closet.

"Well enough. They still can't see me being a soldier, much less a Warrior." She closed the closet door and locked it with a firm click. "They think this is some sort of romantic adventure I'll grow out of."

"And it isn't?" He swept a long arm around her, pulling her to his side. "You aren't tired of playing soldier yet?"

Kaith laughed, her bad temper forgotten in her pleasure at being with her lover again after three weeks' separation. "I'm not tired of playing doctor anyway."

Nooj sat down on the bunk and settled her on his knee. "So, ready for our last year, are you? Still planning to go into the regular army. Are you sure you won't join me in the Crusaders?"

"No, I think I will have a better chance in the army. They promote faster and the sooner I can get to the top echelon, the sooner my family will let up on their complaining. Besides, I have not the slightest desire to watch you indulge in shenanigans whose only purpose is to get yourself killed." She nipped lightly at his neck with her teeth, making him jump back.

He stood up, unceremoniously dumping her on the bed. "Do you have to start up with that as soon as you get back? My life is my own and I'll do what I want with it." His rigid back warned her to silence. "I have to report to Jounne; see you later."

In truth, his appointment with the Commandant was not for another half-hour but he felt the need to get out of the barracks and away from her presence. He had anticipated her return for days and now the discovery that she was going to keep forcing the issue of his obsession was disappointing to him. He walked to the sectioned-off corner of the large room and opened the door to his own room, not caring that Kaith could observe his movements and know he had left her for no good reason.

The private room afforded to the Senior Cadet Captain was small but sufficient for the few possessions Nooj owned. The important thing was that it was private. For two years, he had lived publicly in the barracks of the lower divisions, guarding his personal life with unceasing vigilance and a firm refusal to participate in the communal sharing of the others.

With an impatient gesture, he pulled off his shirt and tossed it to the floor. Taking a freshly starched one from the closet, he carefully closed the snaps and smoothed the collar before affixing the various decorations he to which he was entitled and folding back the cuffs in the prescribed manner. Then with a rough scratch behind the ears of the coeurl lying on the bed and a quick dusting of his highly polished boots, he left the room, walking with a military swagger he had spent the leave time practicing.

He was almost as irritated with himself as with Kaith. For some reason he was touchy these days, taking offense at the slightest reason. The younger cadets were, quite frankly, terrified of him and scurried like insects at his approach. Even those of his own age avoided him if possible. He was known to be dangerous and intolerant of stupidity and, since it was difficult just now to know what he considered stupid, it was considered to be the better part of wisdom to take flight whenever he loomed in the vicinity.

The parade ground was vacant, quite by chance. Most of the students were inside arranging their scant belongings in the proper places. The infamous Armory, site of the flogging horse, squatted with apparent innocence across the way on a diagonal with the classrooms. Between and behind them lay the building which housed the offices of the senior staff and most particularly the large dim lair of Commandant Jounne.

Nooj checked the clock on the face of the Armory. He still had fifteen minutes, time enough for an errand. With a quick turn, he made his way to the classroom building and the library inside. The book he had marked in his memory was where he had last seen it and he opened it to the section he had expected to find. As he scanned the pages, he became aware of a strange disconnection at one point. Closer observation proved that at least two pages had been removed, cut out closely to the spine of the book. With a thoughtful frown on his brow, Nooj closed the Manual of the Crusader Corps and returned it to its place on the shelf before making his way to his appointment with his Commandant.

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"At ease." The Commandant looked at the tall youth before him with rueful affection. In his nearly twenty years of commanding this school, he had never encountered a cadet more difficult to control or one with more raw talent.

Nooj relaxed slightly, spreading his feet a few inches apart and clasping his hands at his waist. In that pose he waited with grave expectation for the reason he had been summoned to his superior's office.

"Oh, sit down," Jounne drawled, pointing at the chair in front of the desk. "We need to have a little talk and I don't want you looming there like a post."

Nooj seated himself on the extreme edge of the wooden chair, his back as straight as it had been when he was at full attention. "Yessir. Thank you, sir."

Jounne sighed to himself. Either the chap was in full Warrior mode or in full Rebel mode. There never seemed to be an in-between for Nooj. "You are, of course, Senior Cadet Captain this year which means you are the immediate superior officer for all the students in this camp. You do understand this?" He pause for an answer.

"Yessir. I understand."

"Good, because I am initiating a few changes which will affect you and the relationship of your office to the camp as a whole. You will not only be the conduit by which my orders are conveyed to the cadets, you will be taking a direct hand in their training yourself. I shall require and expect you to plan and lead various missions during the year as well as continue your own specialized training in preparation for entering the Crusaders. Understood?"

"Yessir." There was no mistaking the note of dismay in the voice of the lad before the desk.

Ignoring the tone, Jounne continued, "I shall want you to plan and lead an appropriate training mission for each of the classes, starting with the first year group. You will need to give me an outline of each activity for my approval one week before you intend to perform the exercise. I shall expect the first such outline on my desk before the last week of this month. Understood?"

"Yessir. That means the first-years should be taken care of during the first week of next month? Are there any restrictions as to difficulty or danger?" Nooj sat even straighter in the hard chair.

Jounne smiled, a little cruelly. "I would prefer you not kill too many of the cadets. You may divide them into appropriately sized teams and assign the command of the teams to the class leaders you find fit. If you propose anything too far out, I'll let you know. Any further questions?"

"Not now sir. May I use the Manuals in the library?"

"Of course, use what resources you need. This is a test for you as well as the others, you know?"

"Yessir. I thought as much." Nooj stood and saluted. "I shall try to avoid a flogging this time."

Jounne threw back his head and laughed. Who would have suspected Nooj of having a sense of humor?

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That night Nooj dreamed. Dreaming was rare for him; usually he fell asleep quickly and deeply or lay awake pondering various problems. But this night, he dreamed. He was on a wide battlefield under lowering skies, alone except for the enemies which approached him one by one. He stood, sweat stinging his eyes, his muscles aching from exertion and swung a broadsword without ceasing, eviscerating each fiend as it stepped before him. His hair had come undone from its braids and blew across his face, obscuring his vision from time to time. His hands were slippery sticky with blood or whatever fluids served the creatures. He was tired and gradually became aware that he was being whittled away by the incessant attacks of the enemy. One foot was gone, then the left forearm, then the left arm entirely and finally the left leg. The sword was too heavy for one hand, so he dropped it and, losing his balance, fell heavily and was at once covered with a mass of tearing beasts. He woke with a scream in his throat and hoped he had not let it escape into the silence of the sleeping barracks. His heart was pounding so hard it shook his body and the bed. Nepetu, disturbed by the movement, stretched and licked his face, completing his transition to awareness.

What had it meant? He sat up and rested his feet on the floor, taking an inventory of his parts to make sure it had been only a dream. He had never feared death in battle; that was his goal. Why had he dreamt this? When he closed his lids, he could see once again that ominously lighted stage upon which he stood, solitary, fighting the forces of what? The shapes of the creatures he slew were unclear. They fell and were replaced by others and he could not make out the details of what he was killing with such machine-like precision, knowing only that they must be killed.

With a shudder which made him pull his quilt around his bare shoulders, he ran his right hand down his left arm and leg, assuring himself they were still there. He felt a slight numbness on that side of his body and thought it was from the pressure of a bad sleeping position. To prove it to himself, he stood and took a few steps, teetering and limping until complete feeling returned to the affected limbs and he stood securely beside the bed. Only a dream. That was all it was, only a dream. But he was disturbed nonetheless; with little experience in dreams, he was uncertain of their import.

Unable to compose himself to sleep again, he dressed and crept silently from his room, Nepetu at his side. The two made their way to the door leading outside and slipped through into the cool freshness of the night. Moving like phantasms through the darkness, the young man and the great cat emerged on the open plain and raced across the grass, heedless of the uneven ground until they both collapsed, breathless and exhausted near the edge of the steep chasm.

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Jounne picked up the sheaf of papers he had found placed in the exact center of his blotter that morning when he first entered his office. The lad was meticulous to a fault. Leave it to Nooj to get the outline of his project in a full week before it was required. With a twisted grin, the Commandant settled down to read.

Some little time later, he laid down the material with a sigh. He could find no obvious fault in the proposal. Nooj expressed his intention of dividing the entering class of cadets into four groups of twelve and assigning each group a peer leader. There were several outstanding candidates for the position including the Cadet Captain for the fourteen-year-olds. These four leaders would be directed to lead their particular contingent across the Calm Lands to one of four destinations to be drawn by lot. There they would undertake to make a careful survey of their surroundings and bring back detailed maps and a census of the number and type of fiend to be found in each area. No battles with the indigenous fauna were to be undertaken unless absolutely necessary and the leader of any group which engaged in such fighting would be required to justify the action to Nooj in person. It was a well-though out and appropriate exercise for beginning cadets and was not dangerous on the face of it. That was what bothered Jounne. Was Nooj becoming too cautious? Had the fear of losing any of his subordinates made him basically unfit for leadership. Men and women die in wars and Warriors must deal with it.

The Commandant leaned back in his chair. Nooj was aiming for the Crusaders, who were trained to fight in small groups or alone. Was this why? Jounne knew the youth wanted to die, was determined to die but was he also determined to throw away not only his life but the talent he had shown to inspire emulation and to draw followers? Suddenly straightening up, he summoned his aide and sent a message.

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When Nooj stood before his superior officer's gaze, he recognized this was no simple meeting in which he would be requested to amplify some portions of his plan. Jounne only looked at him that way when he had something painfully personal to discuss.

"Sit down and make yourself comfortable, lad. We need to have a little talk."

Nooj obeyed, sliding to the back of the straight chair and permitting his shoulders to touch the support. He rested his arms on the arms of the chair and lightly folded his hands, composing his features into a mask of pleasant curiosity.

There was a space of silence then both began speaking together. Nooj immediately stopped out of deference to his elder.

"This project of yours is an excellent one. I have approved it." Jounne slid the folder of papers across the desk. "There is only one problem and it does not directly impact upon the project itself."

The youth did not move, only looked more benignly curious than ever, one eyebrow arching up toward his hairline. "Sir?"

The Commandant leaned back and steepled his fingers, hesitant to begin. "Are you still of the persuasion you were at the end of the last term? About the ..."

"I am still a Deathseeker, sir. I still have every intention of fighting Sin until I am slain. Yessir." The voice was uninflected, convincing in its flatness.

"Why are you denying the cadets you are planning missions for the same opportunity you demand for yourself? Why is this project so damned safe?" He tapped the folder.

"You asked me not to kill any more cadets, sir. I felt I had used my allotment of them for my time here." Nooj was blandly respectful.

"One girl died because of your carelessness. That's not exactly a massacre. You know, better than most, that the risk of death is always present even during training. So why have you virtually eliminated it in this exercise? You aren't even letting them hunt the smaller fiends and get some practice. The sole purpose of this camp is to turn out Warriors; Warriors must know that they face death in their profession. We do cadets no favor by pretending otherwise. Yet, you have gone to considerable pains to eliminate any danger for this class. Such scrupulous care does not speak well of your skill as a leader. I know you can inspire troops to courage yet here you do not. Explain to me your reasoning." Jounne shut his mouth with an audible snap.

"I have only this explanation, sir. I structured the exercise to utilize the things these cadets had been taught so that they might practice their skills. They have not yet been given any extensive training in weaponry nor have they been told the most efficient methods of killing the fiends to be found in this area. I did not want to test them on techniques they are not yet expected to be proficient in. If you like, I can outline a more challenging course for them later in the year." Nooj had slid to the edge of his chair and was sitting at attention.

"One thing I will give you, my boy. You have a clever tongue. If you talked more you would probably be commanding this camp instead of me. I don't entirely believe you. I'm not sure you believe yourself but your argument is sound and I'll let it pass this time. I may give you another go at this lot. In the meantime, I am eager to see what you plan for the second-year class." He tapped his fingers on the surface of his desk. "You do understand that even in the Crusaders, you will be expected to take the lead sometimes and order troops into battle, even into ones where they may get killed?" He permitted himself a caustic twist of the lips. "You cannot expect to evade responsibility for others' lives forever."

"Yessir. I understand that. However, I do not feel my primary skills lie in the area of leadership. I feel I will do better working alone." Nooj was very pale and his fists were clenched.

"Do you now? I wonder. The other students here seem eager enough to flock to your banner."

"For the wrong reasons, sir. I have spend a long time thinking about this. I feel quite certain in my assessments."

"You look and sound much older than you are. I think that has something to do with the way the others react to you." Jounne mused almost to himself. "Well, carry on. Are your own studies going well? I have heard no complaints from your instructors."

Nooj nodded, relieved at the change of subject. "Yessir. I am working hard and learning as much as I can. Thank you sir." He scooped up the outline and tucked it under his arm as he stood, taking the Commandant's words as a dismissal.

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He was just preparing for bed when he heard a little tap at the door of his room. "Yes." He supposed it to be one of the cadets with a problem.

Kaith opened the door and slipped inside. "Nooj, it's been two weeks. Let's not quarrel anymore. I won't talk about things I shouldn't. I'm lonely."

He turned and held out his arms. "So am I. Shall we see if this bunk can accommodate three?"