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Mercenary of Lastia - BtLH - Ch 24
🕑 Added 2024-05-27 06:50:34 +0000 UTC“Wake Up!”
The shout jolted Lys out of sleep and onto the side of her bunk. Confusion filled her mind as she realized it was from the Sergeant shouting. What was wrong?
Swift stomped through the barracks, his voice booming. “Wake up, recruits! On your feet, now!”
Lys straightened her outfit and slipped on her belt and boots, fingers fumbling in her haste. Around her, the rest of the group looked equally disoriented, although a few of the recruits managed better.
“Trekhill!” Swift barked. “Tuck that bed properly!”
Cheeks burning, Lys hastily corrected her mistake.
“Get it right, shrimp, or we’ll all be in trouble,” another recruit shot at her.
Lys looked up like she’d been slapped—no one had taken a hostile tone with her so far, so the annoyed look on the recruit staring at her from across the aisle was a shock.
“Plainfield, no chatter, or do you have enough time to do a dozen laps around the camp?” Swift shouted at the other recruit.
“No, Sir! Ready to go, Sir!” Plainfield shouted back. Swift did a second examination of his bunk and grunted and walked off, somehow satisfied by what he saw.
Plainfield stared at her with a frown until they fell out.
They were marched outside, the first light of dawn barely penetrating the cloudy sky. Swift led them to the mustering yard. Stormwell moved to the front of the group and pivoted to face them. Swift thrust a parchment into his hands.
“Sound off!” Swift called.
Stormwell began to read the names in order. Each recruit answered in turn, their voices ringing out across the yard. Lys shouted, “Present!” when her name was called, determined not to draw any more attention to herself.
Once the roll was finished, Swift addressed them. “Listen up, recruits. Every morning, you will report here for PT. Today you will enjoy a run before breakfast. But today is special. Today, your group has a mission.”
He paused, letting the anticipation build. “Yesterday, another group placed a flag six miles down the road. Your task is to run there, each one of you touching the flag, and then all of you will return with the flag. Understood?”
A chorus of “Yes, Sergeant!” echoed back to him.
“Group leader, take them out!” Swift commanded.
Stormwell stepped forward, gesturing for the recruits to follow.
Lys fell into step with the others, her heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. The first mile was not difficult.
But the pace was faster than her normal, and by the second mile her lungs burned as she pushed herself to keep up with the group’s fast jog. She’d easily walked further distances before, but never at such a high intensity.
Several of the larger recruits lagged, their faces red and sweaty. Swift’s shouts urged them forward, his voice cutting through the sound of pounding feet.
The next mile proved even worse. Lys’s chest heaved, her chest binding constricting her breathing. She tried to focus on the deep breathing exercises her father had taught her, but the pace made it difficult.
By the fourth mile, her lungs felt like they were on fire. Still, she refused to falter, noticing that she wasn’t struggling as badly as some of the others. A few faster recruits had pushed ahead, disappearing from view.
Glancing over her shoulder, Lys wasn’t sure everyone would make it. Three others fell behind her: Orin, whose face she recognized; a second recruit she couldn’t place; and, surprisingly, Garrett.
As the fourth from the back, Lys wondered if she would make it herself. Her legs ached, and her breath came in ragged gasps. The thought of running back after reaching it made her stomach churn.
Sweat dripped into her eyes, blurring her vision. She blinked it away, focusing on the road ahead. One foot in front of the other. She pushed through the pain.
Swift’s voice carried from the front of the ragged line, his words cutting through the sound of pounding feet. “You’re running like a bunch of girls!”
She wanted to laugh at the irony, but her desperate need for air prevented it. Suddenly, the front of the group, still visible to her, began to slow down as a collective unit. They fell back and reduced their pace despite Swift’s shouts urging them forward.
As the blob of the group reached her, Lys wasted precious breath on a single word: “What?”
“We’re a group, and we have to stick together!” A recruit shouted. She barely recalled his name: Peder.
The group’s pace slowed even more, and Lys matched their speed until they were running at the same pace as Garrett, who seemed to struggle the most. Surprise flickered through her mind; the biggest and strongest-looking recruit was also the worst at running.
The new, slower pace allowed Lys’s lungs to catch up, easing the burning sensation in her chest. Swift, unwilling to slow down for them, forged ahead, leaving the group alone to continue the last stretch to the flag.
Lys maintained her pace, determined not to fall behind. The group’s unity ensured that no one was left struggling alone, each recruit supporting the others as they pushed through the grueling run.
They reached the flag, and Lys’s eyes widened slightly. The faster recruits who had sprinted ahead were now running in circles, their faces contorted with exhaustion. She didn’t recognize their names except for one—Plainfield. His face was contorted with anger and exertion as he led the group.
Swift stood nearby, his voice booming across the field. “How could you leave them behind? What if your group needed you? KEEP GOING IN CIRCLES, MAGGOTS!”
As they approached the flag, the group formed a line, each person slapping the fabric as they passed. The recruits who had run ahead looked even more drained than Garrett took the flag and fell in with the group.
Swift’s shouts echoed in their ears, reminding them they couldn’t stop until they reached the camp.
The group slowed their pace to match the exhausted recruits. Lys felt her stomach churn, threatening to expel its contents.
Her head spun, and time seemed to blur as she struggled to keep moving. She realized she had fallen to the back of the group; her legs were heavy and uncooperative.
A voice broke through the haze, encouraging her to keep going.
She couldn’t place the recruit’s name; there had been too many for her to remember. Peder’s shout pierced the air, announcing that they only had a mile left. The group pushed forward, their destination finally coming into view.
As they reached the mustering ground, the recruits collapsed, their bodies spent.
Lys lay on her back, staring up at the overcast sky as her chest heaved, desperate for air. The ground felt solid beneath her. Around her, the other recruits sprawled in various states of exhaustion, their faces flushed and sweaty.
Swift allowed them a minute or two to catch their breath before ordering them to their feet. “Breakfast time, recruits! Move it! Thirty Minutes!”
Lys’s stomach growled at the mention of food, and she followed the others to the mess hall. The aroma of sausage and eggs filled the air, making her mouth water. She grabbed a plate and held it out to the server, who piled it high with steaming eggs, sausage links, a large bowl of porridge, and a container of milk.
As she turned to find a seat, Swift appeared beside her. “Double that portion,” he barked at the server. Then, fixing Lys with a stern glare, he added, “And you better finish all of it, Trekhill. No giving any away, or there’ll be trouble. Understood?”
“Yes, Sergeant!” Lys replied, trying to keep the surprise out of her voice.
She found a spot next to Orin and dug into her meal, savoring the hearty flavors. Orin leaned over, his voice low. “Swift’s giving us thirty minutes to eat. That’s a lot more time than usual.”
Lys glanced at him. He was right. Last time, they had to wolf it down in a hurry. She wondered if it had something to do with the grueling run they’d just completed. She ate faster anyway, just in case their time was cut short for whatever reason.
As she ate, Lys noticed another group of recruits waiting outside the mess hall. They looked totally exhausted.
Orin followed her gaze and nodded. “Group two filled out, too. Guess we’re not the only ones who had a tough morning.”
Comments
Julian1701
I wonder how long it will be before someone notices that she is a girl?
JHD
Thanks for the chapter.
