He found it easy, adjusting to a Hero’s workday life. You just did it. Riding was the aspect he’d felt concern over. He’d ridden horses all his life, both in the saddle, and bareback on work horses. But back home, riding had pretty much amounted to plodding. Now and then, mainly as adolescents, they’d raced on a road or in a pasture, hopefully when no one’s pa or ma or sister was watching, but that was about it. So the notion of galloping headlong through forest and brush was sobering.
All the new trainees were skilled with weapons, though probably few at throwing the ax, or even the knife. (Hauser and Arbel had given him the knife he’d learned on, as a parting gift.) But here they learned additional techniques, with spear, sword, and shield, techniques well beyond those taught to militia. And from the first, the infantry tactics they drilled included tactics more refined than he’d learned before. Thus Macurdy discovered he hadn’t been as skilled as he’d thought.
On the other hand, the horsemanship training wasn’t as hair-raising as he’d expected. Most of the other new Heroes were no more skilled in the saddle than he, and the training was pitched accordingly.
By the end of his first week, he’d improved a lot—and had his strategy for avoiding the Six-Day evening orgy. It was simple enough: Heroes had access to the several Oztown shamans, which gave him somewhere to go. So he told his platoon sergeant his back was seizing up on him. Sergeant Zassfel scowled but gave his approval, and Macurdy left. On the premise that it was best to go to the top, he’d already learned which shaman was regarded as most powerful. When he got there, though, he said nothing about his back. His hope was to be accepted as a student on Six-Day evenings.
He told the shaman an edited version of his history with Arbel, but this man was no Arbel. He was haughty and unimpressed, and sent Macurdy on his way. Bumpkin soldiers and rural shamans were beneath his interest. So Macurdy found a decrepit, abandoned outbuilding not too far from the longhouses, and spent the rest of the night there.
At early dawn he awoke from cold, not for the first time, and went to the 2nd Platoon longhouse. The place buzzed with snoring, and smelled of vomit and rut. By dawnlight and the glow from the fireplaces, he saw the bodies of Heroes and slavegirls, most of them naked, lying singly or more or less entwined on low beds, floor and tables. In some obscure corner, two of them had re‑engaged, grunting and moaning, the sound stimulating Macurdy sexually. Yes, he thought, it’s a good thing I wasn’t here last evening. I’d have never held out.
Next Six-Day, not having come up with a better strategy, he again used that ancient military complaint, the bad back. Zassfel eyed him skeptically. “Again? If this keeps up, I’m sending you back to the slave crew. Heroes don’t have bad backs.”
The man’s aura reflected irritation and hostility, but not suspicion. “Yes, sergeant. I never had it before, and I’d just as soon never have it again. If this time doesn’t take care of it for good, I’ll tell you so you can get rid of me.”
Zassfel, who was larger than Macurdy, jutted his jaw. “All right. This one time. Jeremid says you’re the best of the new men, otherwise I wouldn’t put up with it. Now get out of my sight!”
Macurdy got. He tried a different shaman, but the man’s aura showed little psionic talent; he might or might not be a competent herbalist. This time Macurdy spent the night in a hayloft, which risked discovery by someone at morning chores but was a lot better sleeping.
Many in the new training class found themselves attracted by Macurdy’s charisma. All his life his peers had tended to look up to him, more so since Arbel had freed him of the false modesty imposed by his upbringing. In addition he was older than the other rookies, twenty-six compared to their twenty or twenty-one.
Macurdy, in turn, particularly liked Corporal Jeremid, a third-year Hero from Oztown itself. Jeremid was nearly as tall as he, and if somewhat less powerfully built, was exceptionally athletic. His principle duty was teaching horsemanship to the recruits.