Sunny

The soldiers had left camp in the early morning. Riley and Roland had each been able to get their letters to the messenger escorting Ashley back to Klain and were possibly already delivered by now. The woman was in a morose mood as she reluctantly followed him back. She had briefly considered running from him--she'd escaped her chaperone before--but to disobey orders would be treason. It was a price slightly more than she was willing to pay.

She thought for an angry, brief moment that her father likely manipulated things this way. He was adept at changing circumstances to be what he wanted them to be. She waved goodbye to her friends and obediently trod toward home at first light.

Since the orders now were less urgent, the camp was more fully packed up for the journey. Taking supplies to last a month or two at least, the trainees set out South, where the last wolf sighting had been. They trained as they went, being taught advanced survival skills during stops from the march. In the evenings, they sparred before supper.

Roland was losing count of the days, except that he wrote to Finn every day. The stack of letters was accumulating slowly but steadily. He poured out his heart, how he missed her, ached to be with her, described all the things he loved about her. The first time he used the word 'love', he nearly tore the letter in two. Although it was truth, would she bolt? Would the rejection hurt that much more deeply if she knew just how much he loved her?

He bent the corner of the letter after he sealed it to differentiate it from the rest. If he changed his mind, he would simply pull it from the stack before sending or giving them to her. He had described his feelings so explicitly in the last letter he had sent to her, perhaps using the word 'love' would be nothing in comparison. He unfortunately had an indefinite amount of time before he would see her again, or be in a place where he could send letters.

The days grew hotter. On this particular day, they had been marching and scouting throughout the morning and came to place where a bend in a large stream had created a wide, deep pond. Captain Grayson announced that today, there would be swimming lessons.

Riley blinked at the announcement and turned to Peter, "Swimming lessons?"

The boy/man nodded. "As Klain borders the large lake and possesses many boats, a naval battle is a conceivable possibility. All soldiers must know how to swim."

"But you don't learn as children? With the lake right there?" Riley was confused.

"Many do, but not all. Even those who already know how would benefit from formal training and practice with endurance. It is a wonderful exercise for using all kinds of muscles." Peter himself had enjoyed swimming in the summer as a child.

Roland, on the other side of Peter, sighed, and began stripping to the undergarment that would serve as a swimsuit for the lessons. The other recruits were doing the same, so Riley followed suit. For the first time, he was glad that Ashley had been sent back to Klain. This would be embarrassing for all of them otherwise.

"Weird necklace," Peter pointed at Roland's chest. "Where'd you get it?"

"It was my mother's." The simple statement made Peter regret speaking, but Roland held nothing against the younger man. It was a bit weird, he supposed. On the simple chain around his neck, the single charm hung: an intricately carved wooden leaf about the size of the pad of his thumb. He caressed it briefly and decided to leave it on instead of leaving it with the pile of his boots and clothes.

The lessons went poorly for many of the recruits. So poorly, in fact, that Captain Grayson announced they would camp there for the night and have a second day of lessons. It was unlikely they would stumble upon such a calm, wide pond again anytime soon, and they should take full advantage of this opportunity.

Riley, as it turned out, was not a particularly good swimmer. His dense muscle mass from working the farm had made him more prone to sinking, and he also had almost no experience beyond the creek that ran near the village, which was too shallow for real swimming unless it was flooding. No one swam during the flood season, knowing how easy it was to get swept away by treacherous currents.

Peter was glad for a chance to help the amazing warrior, not feeling as much like an irritating kid brother now that he had something to offer. As much as Riley tried, he was eventually able to keep himself afloat and move forward, but not much more than that. Roland, on the other hand, was enjoying the activity more than he thought. By noon the second day, he was swimming laps back and forth across the pond, and even venturing into the flowing stream to practice endurance swimming against the current.

"Showoff," Riley muttered to himself as he prepared again to try and struggle his way slowly across the water. He splashed his way across, keeping his face up above the water, but in an incredibly flailing, ungraceful manner. He knew he was earning the laughter of all the others, but he promised himself not to go easy on them at the next sparring practice. Perhaps sensing those thoughts, the others tried harder to contain their mirth.

Their amusement and distraction prevented anyone from hearing a sharp whistle or noticing the skulking intruders until it was too late to respond effectively. Though the scouts had been dutifully making their rounds in a wide perimeter around the camp, two had been incapacitated, leaving an unexpected gap in the army's defense. The guards at the edges of camp giving in to the distraction of laughter for a moment allowed the rest of the opening needed for the attack.

The wolves had kept their distance from the recruits so far during their journey. As they had set out, they were extremely vigilant at all times. This day of training had felt too much like a day of play, and a moment of relaxation gave way to disaster.

Roland, despite being the furthest from the main group, was the first to spot one.

"WOLVES!" He shouted, pointing behind the guards at the other end of the pond.

The sound carried and a second of ominous silence followed by howls propelled all into action. Captain Grayson flew to the line, determined to give the recruits a chance to get to their weapons and armor. Only a portion of the soldiers engaged in the lessons at a time, but it left their entire group more vulnerable. The battle formations he devised worked best when a full defensive circle could be created.

The wolves were more numerous than previous reports had advised. At least fifteen or twenty were already visible and closing in, going for the vulnerable recruits who, weaponless, scrambled from the water. Captain Grayson swiftly ran to the nearest one, swinging his sword and nicking its side as it saw him and launched backwards out of his full reach. Spinning, the captain swung again, wounding the predator's back leg severely. It yelped and backed away, and he moved on to the next, leaving the easy kill for another solider.

He similarly wounded two others before taking a moment to check the status of his soldiers. A few of the wolves had taken to the water and were taking out helpless soldiers who flailed, weaponless and defenseless against the strong-swimming fanged wolves.

Riley was struggling. He was not swift and barely buoyant. The fear of being helpless in the water against a vicious animal was creeping up and forming into a wall of panic in his mind. He had been about halfway across the pond and was now frozen with indecision, treading water. Did he make his way to the shore nearest to his sword, or try to escape to the far side of the pond furthest from the gnashing teeth?

"Riley, Here!" Roland called. The other man was swimming closer to him, gesturing that Riley should follow. Turning toward the lifeline, Riley did as he was told and together they made their way to the far bank. Roland pulled Riley part of the way as the slightly larger man floundered, and they both walked, gasping, up the bank.

Looking back, the wolves and soldiers were engaged in a gruesome clash. Shaking the water off, the two men locked eyes and then simultaneously took off running towards the battle. Roland was swifter and reached the skirmish first. Barefoot, with no weapon and barely clothed, his mad dash was not directly for the wolves, but for a sword which had been laid on the shore with a pile of clothes by one of the swimmers. He didn't care whether it was his or not, the primary consideration was defending himself and the others.

Riley was close behind, and snatched another sword from the ground just before a wolf snapped at his legs. He swung back and delivered a crushing blow to its snout with the pommel of the weapon, throwing it back several feet. Silently, he pursued and killed it, moving further on to the next wolf quickly. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Roland swinging his blade to ward off an attack from two large canines, a large grey wolf and a smaller brown one. Perhaps he should--

At that moment, a third jumped at Roland from behind, sinking its teeth into his shoulder and yanking him to the ground. Roland cried out and dropped his sword as the wolf twisted and punctured muscles and tendons in his dominant arm. Retaining some sense of self-preservation, he turned to punch it with his other fist, hoping to hit it in the eye or nose to make it loosen its death grip. The brown wolf caught his wrist in its mouth before the punch could land, and the two dragged Roland toward the trees as a prize, playing a deadly game of tug-of-war as their toy began to lose consciousness from pain and blood loss. He kicked and thrashed as the pain intensified, but the wolves held fast.

Riley ran towards the the mayhem at a full sprint. The large grey wolf turned on him and snarled. Riley swung fast, but the wolf jumped to the side and snapped its powerful jaws, putting Riley on the defense. This was far different than sparring with a person. He parried and thrust at the wolf's front legs, causing it to rise to its hind feet and lunge. It was what Riley had hoped for, and he brought the blade up to catch the creature's throat.

The sword sliced, but the wolf's fur and hide were thick. It was enough to get the wolf to jump away and retreat, but not enough to mortally wound the predator. Riley tried to run past it and get to the tree line where Roland's legs were disappearing into the brush as the other wolves continued to drag him away for a meal. He no longer thrashed and kicked, but was ominously still.

In a moment of righteous fury, Riley slashed again at the wolf blocking his way. It caught him across the cheek with its sharp claws, but he barely reacted. Mercilessly he hacked at the creature until it fell aside, and then ran into the forest, following the sickening trail of blood as a whistle sounded in the distance.