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Authors: Dulcinea Norton-Smith
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private for him,” said Violette “He needs at least a week of bed rest.”
“Oh” said Mathilde and continued to stand in the doorway, not quite sure of what to say. “Well I had better get to the training room. I have a Protectorate to improve.”Mathilde turned on her heel and quickly scarpered. As she left she could hear Violette answering an unspoken question.
“My sister Mathilde. You will get used to her.”
Mathilde frowned as she stomped past a smug looking Seb who was still slumped in the corner. She was sure that the rest of the day was going to be just as bad as the start had been.
An hour later the dubious collection of amateurs which made up the Bucharest Protectorate gathered in the training grounds outside of the Cantacuzino Palace and within the settlement walls. They stood in a loose and messy formation facing Protector Superior Paul, Mathilde, Seb, Arnold and Sian. Several members of the settlement had gathered around the perimeter of the training ground to see the action.
“Morning everyone, I hope you are well rested. Today we will do two hours of exercise then will break into two groups to practice defensive formations. After that we will have weapons inspection then break for something to eat before we move onto weapons practice and an hour of dream barrier practice.”
As Mathilde’s voice projected across her twelve new trainees, a grumble of disbelief went through the group and a few sniggers and chuckles could be heard from the audience. Even the watchers who had looked like they were just stopping by settled down and looked like they were here to stay. This Protectorate had never done more than an hour of exercise in their short Protector career. The audience looked like they thought that this was going to be fun to watch.
Mathilde raised her eyebrows and suppressed a sigh as she heard Seb tut in annoyance and Paul whisper “I know” out of the side of his mouth. There was a lot of work to be done.
The exercise session passed without event, though there were several points where Mathilde had to force exhausted middle aged men and pimply youths back onto their feet. By the end of the session there was a lot of huffing and puffing and several red, sweaty faces. The audience had all but disbanded. After the initial humour of seeing their friends struggle to keep up, the biting cold proved to be more pressing than the need to watch two hours of running, sit-ups and shadow boxing.
Formation practice was better received and the Protectorate became more eager and responsive at the hint of real action. The few stragglers in the audience sat back down to watch the motley crew go from an un-organised, uncoordinated rabble to a slightly more organized, vaguely more co-ordinated rabble. Mathilde split the Protectorate into two groups of six and taught them some of the basic moves; how to create a stretched hunting line, how to move from that into a close defensive circle and how to do the figure eight formation to get the archers in various positions depending upon the number of attackers. They were by no means as tightly coordinated as the Suceava Protectorate and there were several tangled feet incidents but they were making progress and so, by lunchtime Mathilde was satisfied with the progress made.
By the end of the day she was nervous again. Not many of the Protectors had made it all the way through weapons practice. There had been a mixture of older Protectors collapsing in exhaustion, younger Protectors lacking the strength needed to hold up a sword or axe for long and not one of the Protectors showed any of the aiming skills or depth perception needed to control a crossbow. It would take a long time to get them to a standard to be able to fight just one wendigo. Time they didn’t have.
Chapter Ten
Mathilde made her way to the hospital alcove. It was a week since Dash had arrived and Mathilde, Seb and Violette had fallen into a set routine of caring for him. Violette looked
“Oh” said Mathilde and continued to stand in the doorway, not quite sure of what to say. “Well I had better get to the training room. I have a Protectorate to improve.”Mathilde turned on her heel and quickly scarpered. As she left she could hear Violette answering an unspoken question.
“My sister Mathilde. You will get used to her.”
Mathilde frowned as she stomped past a smug looking Seb who was still slumped in the corner. She was sure that the rest of the day was going to be just as bad as the start had been.
An hour later the dubious collection of amateurs which made up the Bucharest Protectorate gathered in the training grounds outside of the Cantacuzino Palace and within the settlement walls. They stood in a loose and messy formation facing Protector Superior Paul, Mathilde, Seb, Arnold and Sian. Several members of the settlement had gathered around the perimeter of the training ground to see the action.
“Morning everyone, I hope you are well rested. Today we will do two hours of exercise then will break into two groups to practice defensive formations. After that we will have weapons inspection then break for something to eat before we move onto weapons practice and an hour of dream barrier practice.”
As Mathilde’s voice projected across her twelve new trainees, a grumble of disbelief went through the group and a few sniggers and chuckles could be heard from the audience. Even the watchers who had looked like they were just stopping by settled down and looked like they were here to stay. This Protectorate had never done more than an hour of exercise in their short Protector career. The audience looked like they thought that this was going to be fun to watch.
Mathilde raised her eyebrows and suppressed a sigh as she heard Seb tut in annoyance and Paul whisper “I know” out of the side of his mouth. There was a lot of work to be done.
The exercise session passed without event, though there were several points where Mathilde had to force exhausted middle aged men and pimply youths back onto their feet. By the end of the session there was a lot of huffing and puffing and several red, sweaty faces. The audience had all but disbanded. After the initial humour of seeing their friends struggle to keep up, the biting cold proved to be more pressing than the need to watch two hours of running, sit-ups and shadow boxing.
Formation practice was better received and the Protectorate became more eager and responsive at the hint of real action. The few stragglers in the audience sat back down to watch the motley crew go from an un-organised, uncoordinated rabble to a slightly more organized, vaguely more co-ordinated rabble. Mathilde split the Protectorate into two groups of six and taught them some of the basic moves; how to create a stretched hunting line, how to move from that into a close defensive circle and how to do the figure eight formation to get the archers in various positions depending upon the number of attackers. They were by no means as tightly coordinated as the Suceava Protectorate and there were several tangled feet incidents but they were making progress and so, by lunchtime Mathilde was satisfied with the progress made.
By the end of the day she was nervous again. Not many of the Protectors had made it all the way through weapons practice. There had been a mixture of older Protectors collapsing in exhaustion, younger Protectors lacking the strength needed to hold up a sword or axe for long and not one of the Protectors showed any of the aiming skills or depth perception needed to control a crossbow. It would take a long time to get them to a standard to be able to fight just one wendigo. Time they didn’t have.
Chapter Ten
Mathilde made her way to the hospital alcove. It was a week since Dash had arrived and Mathilde, Seb and Violette had fallen into a set routine of caring for him. Violette looked
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