Late the following morning, Niall and Huff walked down the hill to the front gate of Camp Sedrun. After being summarily dismissed by Professor Hemming the preview afternoon, Niall had headed back to The Bear and Lake. He had thought about asking the Professor for permission to use the university library but had thought his request was unlikely to be well received. In any event, he had had quite enough for one day so had a quiet dinner in the common room and turned in for an early night.

Any thoughts of having a good night’s sleep were lost when Huff arrived back at their room in the early hours of the morning. He had stumbled around, knocking things over for a while, before he collapsed fully dressed into his bed. Niall had pulled off his cloak and his boots, then left him to it. That morning it had taken Niall shouting at him to get him up at all. Even now he just stood and squinted at the bright sunlight.

The front gate to the army camp was guarded by two alert looking soldiers. One of them stepped forward as Huff and Niall approached.

“Yes?”

Huff just blinked at them owlishly. As he was clearly not good for much, Niall spoke for both of them. “We’re here for Militia Training.”

The soldier looked them up and down. “Names?”

“Niall Vendra and Liam Huffport.”

The soldier checked something in a sheaf of papers before he signalled for the gate to be opened. “Turn left and keep walking until you reach Building Fourteen. They’ll process you there. Don’t get lost. If you’re found anywhere else besides the direct route between here and there it’s not going to end well for you.”

Niall felt himself staring as they entered the camp and followed the directions. The military was something he had no experience of in his previous life. The swords that were openly worn by everyone, as well as the range of other weapons on display, made him jittery. These were people that had been trained to kill, and he was about to join them.

It was something of a relief, therefore, as they reached Building Fourteen to see just a line of two or three people in civilian clothes queuing up in front of a desk. Seeing no alternative, the two men joined the queue. A bored looking soldier in his forties with two other soldiers stood at ease behind him waited for them. Eventually Niall reached the front of the line.

“Next.”

Just as Niall was about to step forward, there was a small commotion at the door. A well-dressed young man walked in accompanied by a man and a woman only slightly less well dressed than he was.

He looked around in disdain. “I cannot believe I’m going to have to spend the next six months with literal peasants.”

Ignoring the queue, the man stalked to the front of the line with his friends close behind. “Name and nearest town or village.” The soldier behind the desk still did not look up.

“Killip Transven, Bendajo.”

“Not you, the next person in line.”

“I am the next in line”

“No. You’re not.” The soldier glanced up, looked round the man, and gestured at Niall. “Next.”

Killip turned red and slapped his hands down on the desk. “Do you know who I am?”

The soldier pushed his hands off the desk. “Yes, you’re the person that’s going to join the end of the queue. And never touch my desk again” He gestured to Niall once more. “Come on. I don’t have all day.”

Killip turned to one of his companions “This is exactly what I was worried about. Jumped up labourers who don’t know their place.” He did not deign to keep his voice down.

Killip slapped his hands down on the soldier’s desk again. “Listen here. I’m not going to stand for this. I’m good friends with Lord Chandris, very good friends. Not only that, my mother is tailor to his father, the Duke. Now, I’ve had enough of this. I demand to see your superior officer.”

The soldier looked up. “Your mother knows the Duke? I didn’t realise. Just one moment.” He stood up and started to head towards the exit.

Killip looked at the soldier’s retreating back with a sneer. “You see. This is how you deal with these people. They’re aren’t bad, just wilful. They need a firm hand to put them in their place. After that, they’re surprisingly biddable.”

The soldier stopped at the door, pulled out a key and locked it. He gestured and the two soldiers marched around from behind the desk and took up positions either the side of the exit. Niall watched this with a growing concern. The soldier then turned back to Killip. “I’m very sorry,” he said

Killip put out a hand and interrupted him. “I don’t want to hear it. Don’t think that cosying up to me now is going to help. You should have thought of that before you insulted me. Run along now. Find me someone it’s worth me spending my time speaking to.” He flapped his hands in the soldier’s face.

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The soldier stayed where he was. “You misunderstand. Was I unclear when I told you not to touch my table?” The last sentence was roared through the room and Niall was not the only one that started. All of the other conversations in the room stopped. If anyone had not been paying attention to the group in the middle of the room up to that point, they certainly were now.

Killip looked at the soldier. “I am done talking with you. Go and find your superior officer.”

Niall had to confess he was impressed that Killip did not back down. The man was either brave or foolish, quite possibly both. His attention was brought back to the room as the soldier spoke again.

“‘Go and find your superior officer,’ Sir.”

“What are you blithering on about?”

“Until you outrank me, you will address me as ‘Sir’”

“Oh please.”

The soldier carried on talking as if Killip had not spoken. “And as I said, I’m very sorry. If you want privileges then you are going to have to earn them.”

The soldier pointed at Niall. “You, come forward.”

Niall looked around then pointed at his own chest. “Who me?” He paused for a second then added. “Sir”

A small smile flickered across the soldier’s face at the last word. “Yes you. Were you next in line?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“This man was trying to steal your place in the queue. What are you going to do about it?”

“Honestly, it’s fine, I don’t mind.”

“No recruit, you do not decide what is and is not a problem.” The soldier turned back to Killip. “If you want to get in front of the queue then you are going to have to fight this man to get it.”

“What?” Niall said. He looked around him again, but Huff just shrugged helplessly.

“Why should I do anything you say?” asked Killip.

The soldier held up the door key. “If you want to complain about me to the Duke then you’re going to need to leave this building. I’m not unlocking this door until you fight this man. What are you worried about? He’s weak. Don’t tell me you’re scared of a ‘literal peasant.’”

Killip stared at the soldier then stalked over to Niall.

Niall help up his hands. “Look, this is nothing to do with me. I don’t want to fight anyone.”

Killip looked over at the soldier again and then swung a fist at Niall’s face.

Niall saw it coming and tried to raise his arms to block it, but he was too slow. For a moment, after the fist smashed into him, he felt nothing except a surprised relief that it did not hurt. Then, his nose exploded with pain and his eyes filled with tears. He fell to the floor clutching at his face. He could not believe this was happening again. He had thought the incident with Stefan back in Raintor was a one-off due to Devon not taking Stefan on as an apprentice. However, he had only been in the army camp for a few minutes and he was already in a fight.

Niall staggered to his feet. One hand to his nose he held out the other. “OK. I surrender. You win.” As he spoke, he channelled Spirit to heal his face and the pain subsided.

Killip turned and shrugged at the soldier. “Right, I’ve played your silly game. Rest assured that I will be sharing this with the Duke as well.”

The soldier gave him a hard smile. “You can share this with whoever you like, I couldn’t care less. But you’ve not finished yet. One punch isn’t a fight. You keep going until one of you is unable to continue.”

The smile fell from his face as he pointed at Niall. “And you. Get some pride. If you are going to part of Gwilliant’s defence then you need to be better than that.”

Killip sneered at the soldier. “This is an outrage. You’re a mere desk clerk. Let me assure you that I will be demanding that you’re fired. Dishonourably, or whatever it is you people call it.”

The soldier held up the key. “I understand, you’re very upset. You’re going to tell the Duke. Shout it from the rooftops. But in order to do that you need to get out of here first. And, as I said, the only way to do that is by fighting properly.”

Killip turned away from the soldier and back to Niall. Niall backed away. “Listen. You don’t have to do this. We’ll find another way out. I don’t want to fight.”

Killip ignored him and started to throw punches at Niall. Niall covered his face and body as the blows rained down. A small part of his mind realised Killip was not a skilled fighter as the punches did not hurt very much, but the rest of him was in shock at what was happening.

An uppercut broke through his defences and Niall staggered backwards his vision blurred. A metallic taste filled his mouth. He tried to heal himself but could not manage to concentrate enough to channel spirit. Killip apparently sensed victory and Niall felt him start to attack with renewed vigour.

As his vision cleared slightly, Niall caught a glimpse of the soldier watching the fight with a disapproving look on his face. Distracted by this, he missed a punch that landed in his stomach. As Niall bent double, trying to drag air into his lungs, he saw, too late, a knee come smashing into his face. The blow sent him reeling backwards and he could barely remain on his feet. His only thought was that he was glad his Endurance ability had increased. Without that, he would not be able to survive this.

Niall looked around and images of the surrounding faces filled his vision. The looks of amusement, or surprise, from most of those in the room. Huff’s shocked face. The triumphant look in Killip’s eyes. A look of disappointment on the soldier’s face. It was the last that broke something in Niall. He had seen it before. From parents, teachers, colleagues and others. It had been there throughout his life, creating a feeling of shame and anger.

Forcing himself to straighten, Niall let out a scream and ran towards Killip. The feeling that came over him when he had landed that single punch on Stefan all that time ago came back. The anger when he had run at the wolf when he was trying to save Kiran. All the fear and frustration and confusion of the last few months came together and exploded through the thin crust of his control. He swung a fist at Killip and felt a fierce sense of satisfaction as his knuckles connected with the man’s cheek. Again, he swung but this time he only connected with the arm Killip had raised to protect his face.

As Niall flailed at Killip, his attacker stepped backwards and tripped. Killip landed heavily on the floor and Niall fell on him with a thud. Blinded with tears and sweat and blood Niall rained blows down on Killip’s body. He was not the person who had been so easily beaten up by Stefan any more. Months in the forge and the forest had built muscle and reflexes. He was not going to be the victim this time.

A savage joy ran through him. He was powerful. Unstoppable. Time was meaningless. And then a fist hammered into his ribs leaving him spluttering for breath. As he gasped another fist came up and exploded into his jaw. His own blood filled his mouth. The exhilaration evaporated and he felt himself spin in the air until he was on his back on the floor. He squinted up to see Killip on his feet and standing over him. A boot slammed into Niall’s side and, before he even had time to cough, it hammered into his head. He saw a bright light and then everything went black.