Chapter 37: The Castle’s Amenities

The Drillmaster’s office was barren save for a single window and a few empty wall sconces. A desk sat in the very center, covered in letters and maps, and a few plain wooden chairs sat on either side of it.

“Don’t bother taking a seat; we won’t be long,” the Drillmaster said. “First things first—and this is a speech I gave everyone, all our early recruits—you might be the best of your battalion. You might be some hotshot straight out of Homecamp, but here, you’re among the best. We’re training you to become the best of the best.”

I just nodded.

“Let’s see…” the Drillmaster began. “We’ll begin with an assessment of your attributes. You’ve used a reading slate before? You never know with some of these fringe battalions…”

“Correct,” I replied. “I have used one, at least.”

“Then here you go.” The Drillmaster reached into a drawer of his desk and withdrew a slate, then passed it to Levi. “If you make the cut, you’ll get one of those to keep for yourself.”

My eyes widened. “Really? A slate all to myself?”

“Truly,” the Drillmaster said with an exasperated tone. “What battalion is he from?”

“The 294th,” one of the sappers who had brought me here said.

The Drillmaster raised his eyebrows. “He performed poorly at Homecamp, so they sent him to the 294th? But then, miraculously, two months after shipping to the front lines, he suddenly pulls up his trousers and draws and performs well enough to draw our attention?”

“Not exactly,” one of the sappers said. “He is an Atoning.”

“Ah.” The Drillmaster nodded. “That would explain a few things. But you’d best keep that to yourself, right lad?”

I nodded.

“And come up with a story for how you got your name. If you can’t explain it, they’ll be suspicious.” Then, he glanced back at the two sappers. “Perhaps I’m mistaken, but the 294th is the only battalion that held the line in on the last attack.”

“Sir Aldhelm attributes their success partially to him,” said the sapper with a sword.

“Hm.” The Drillmaster turned his gaze back to me. “Don’t get cocky, lad.”

“I won’t,” I replied.

“Now, have the others explained how the entrance exam works to you?”

“Yes, they have. Mostly.”

“Very good. What about our ranking system?”

“They have not.”

“Well, son, everyone here receives a ranking. At the moment, it’s simply a guide to how you compare to the others in the squads. Our lieutenants and other observers decide it, and it updates regularly. You’re more likely to find a squad if you have a good ranking—you need a team of four to even be considered for the exam, and we want you to find your squads on your own. It aids in team cohesion we find.” He paused. “Now, let’s see your slate.”

I handed it back to him. He glanced over it, nodded, and when his eyes reached my Skills, he pressed his lips together.

“Is something wrong?” I asked, resisting the urge to add ‘sir.’

“It’s rare to have two merged Skills at this point in your career,” one of the sappers whispered.

“Hush,” the Drillmaster replied. “Regardless, everyone here is rare in some way or another. Don’t go thinking you’re rarer than anyone else.”

“I won’t,” I replied.

The Drillmaster opened a drawer and put away the slate, then slid open a different drawer and withdrew a necklace with an iron pendant at its tip. The pendants didn’t seem to have a set shape—it was just whatever chunk of iron they could find. He said, “Wear this at all times. It’s your tier identification. Understood?”

“I understand.” I took the necklace and pulled it on.

“If you’re admitted—which, your odds aren’t great, considering how late you are, no matter how many Skills you’ve merged—you’ll carve your name and identification code into the back of the pendant. That way, if a Black Captain rots away your body with a dark Art, we’ll still know who died.”

I gulped, then nodded.

“That’s all for now,” the Drillmaster said. “No matter what happens, I’ll be seeing you shortly. Go find a room in the barracks.”

The two sappers led me back out of the keep, and we descended to the ring of grass between the inner wall and the keep. After a few seconds of walking down the cobblestone path, we turned to a wood and daub building with a thatched roof. It was three storeys tall, and it had seen better days, given the chipped paint and rotting timbers.