Free Arm Of Galemar (Book 2) by Damien Lake

ally.”
    “And over-caution is the paranoid man’s friend. 
Beld’s not actually as dumb as he looks.  He got the message last time he
jumped us.”
    “If he is that smart, then all the more reason to be
careful.  Look, they’ve started.”
    Janus sent the two three-man teams to red boulders on
opposite sides of the steep slope.  They slowly picked their way through the
uneven terrain until he called a start.  Marik and Dietrik watched Dellen The
Ox try for his third year to qualify.
    “Doesn’t look as though the old fellow’s learned much,
does he?”
    Marik agreed.  “I wonder what he does all year?  He’s
still as dumb as when we knocked him down the hill.”
    “I would hazard to say he is so convinced of his ability
he believes his losses were not his fault.  So why bother bettering yourself?”
    Dellen made barely any progress.  His head swung up
slope to look for danger, then quickly swiveled to gaze downward.  As if
watching jays fighting, his head would jerk all around before finally advancing
a pace or two.  After that short span, he restarted his searching.
    Dietrik grinned wickedly.  “I’d say he has become a
rather nervous chap.  Past experiences must weigh heavily on him.”
    His large friends shouted loudly, but not loud enough
for Marik to understand exactly what the giants said.  Confrontations occurred
between the two miniature units, none of which included Dellen who crawled
slowly along, still short of the halfway point.
    One man from the other team drew near and crouched
behind a concealing outcrop once he spotted his enemy.  Obviously he intended
to let Dellen pass him by, then make a dash to capture the enemy base.
    “I think he may be there for a spell.”
    “Probably,” Marik agreed.
    The last minute finished and Janus called time. 
Neither side had seized their objective, yet many had demonstrated their
talents, which was all they were meant to do.  Dellen, at the halfway point,
nearly fell down the slope when the irate croucher abruptly stood from his
cover to climb back to the judges’ tables.
    It quickly became apparent who the judges had accepted
and who not.  “Hah!” Dietrik crowed, and slapped the wooden points lining the
wall top.  “He missed out again!”
    Marik looked at his friend.  “You don’t like him at all,
do you?”
    “Not one in their whole bunch!  Let’s go.  It’s
lunchtime, and I hear the menu is going to be meatloaf today!”
    “I guess that’s all right.”
    “You have no appreciation for good, solid food.”
    Marik saved the argument by keeping silent.  Instead
he concentrated on the plank stairway down the interior wall.  Few men had
chosen to scale the heights and watch the trials, the depression of so many
losses during the war still clouding every barracks.  Usually the walls would
be crowded.  Kerwin’s attempts to start betting pools had fallen flat.  Very
few were enthusiastic about life in general.
    “Come on, mate.  I want to be first in line.”
    Dietrik’s eagerness made him grin despite his mental
exhaustion.  He followed after.
     
    *        *        *        *        *
     
    Beld’s teeth ground in frustration.  Always, Dellen
kept being screwed out of his rightful due!  Why did Lady Fate keep casting him
snake eyes?  What did the world have against them?
    He cast his gaze skyward in frustration…and saw two
men on the wall, turning away.  Recognition struck him in an instant.  Beld’s
eyes narrowed, his thoughts roiling.
    Copping mage trickery…
     
    *        *        *        *        *
     
    When Marik and Dietrik entered their bunk area to
retrieve their eating utensils, they found it overrun with clerks and
Homeguard.  Marik had never seen them in the barracks before.  Dietrik shrugged
and unlocked his closet.  It was quickly clear what the intruders were doing.
    One clerk with a key ring that must have weighed ten
pounds commanded