“I’m sorry I put you through all that,” Quint said. “The kidnappers were serious about having a little fun at your expense.”
“They even made sure to bind my hands,” Amaria said. “I don’t know what my father will make of all this. We must return to Bocarre.”
“It wouldn’t have happened if he left me alone,” Quint said, thinking he might try a different tack with Amaria. “Let’s continue our mission. You won’t have to ingratiate yourself, and I can still see the wizard corps in action.”
“That isn’t going to change. You are still fulfilling your assignment, aren’t you?”
Quint nodded. “We will arrive a day or two late with our detour.”
Amaria narrowed her eyes at Quint. “I hate to feel beholden to you, but thank you for saving me today. You could have just continued to the camp. I didn’t know you could track people.”
“A boyhood talent that came into use today. A simple thank you is all I need,” Quint said.
“Thank you,” Amaria said in a small voice. Her cheeks blushed again, but Quint didn’t think she was lying. It was her embarrassment doing all the coloring.
Chapter Fiftee
n
The camp was much larger than the first one Quint had visited far to the west. Amaria said that all Racellian camps had their commander in the middle, so they rode down a lane of tents and ended up in a training ground. A large tent faced them as they rode through the square.
“Lieutenants Amaria Baltacco and Quinto Tirolo from the Wizard Corps Strategic Operations Division reporting for their assignment,” Amaria said to the officer, who left the tent’s door to face them after they dismounted.
“You were expected two days ago,” the officer said, initially looking at Amaria, but his eyes slid to Quint.
“We were attacked along the way and had to take an alternate route, sir,” Amaria said.
“Orders.” The officer extended his hand.
Amaria and Quint put their orders on the officer’s outstretched palm.
“Very well,” the officer said, quickly looking at the orders. He crooked his finger, and an orderly rushed to the officer’s side.
“Take these two to the Wizard Corps section.” The officer’s eyes never left Amaria and Quint as he gave his instructions. “Dismissed.”
“Walk your horses,” the orderly said.
As they strolled through the camp, Quint could see it was organized by squads with tents surrounding a fire and a temporary worktable and chairs. Soldiers were checking their weapons or playing games.
They walked over a vacant strip of land and saw their first wizard corps soldiers.
“This is where you will be staying. It is at the edge of the camp, but the wizards know how to protect their little corners.”
Quint didn’t see any evidence of protection in his last field experience, but he was mired with the supply wagons, and others could have cast threads to protect their camp. The other camp put the wizards in a corner just like this one.
The major in charge of the corps greeted them, although Amaria got the warm welcome, and Quint felt the typical coolness willots gave hubites.
“We didn’t know who was being sent, so only one tent was open. You will have to share,” the major said.
“That can be modified,” Amaria said. “We can be split up.”
“But you are both officers, and the hubite Lieutenant is a Level 3,” the major said.
“I’ll share a tent with anyone,” Quint said. It would be easier to escape if he stayed apart from Amaria.
The first day was interesting enough to prompt Quint to remain in the camp for at least another day. He had never seen wizards train for battle before and he wrote notes about it for a report to the colonel to prove he had observed the camp.
The food was awful. They had arrived just before lunch, and Amaria almost gagged on the thick soup served with a tiny, stale loaf of dark bread. Quint shrugged. Food was food in the outdoors. The soup was probably made up from previous meals. He guessed if it were dinner, the soup would be called stew.
After lunch, the wizards took off their shirts and sat in the sun. Their brown skin was even darker with daily sunbaths. The women had their area to sunbathe. Quint wasn’t exactly white since he used the little park to catch sunlight, but he was paler than anyone else. No hubites in sight.
Practice made up the rest of the afternoon. Half of it was physical, training with weapons, and the other concentrated on offensive spells. The physical part was fun for Quint. He hadn’t had much training with real weapons at Fort Draco and none when he reached Bocarre. Quint knew the strings, but he hadn’t practiced them, intending to kill someone.
“Your orders said you were a Level 3. Is that correct?” the sergeant in charge of string training asked.
“It is,” Quint said.
“Then act like one. Your strings are too tentative. This is an army, not a cloister, sir.”
Quint pursed his lips. “I was never given a chance to enter a cloister,” he said.
“Few are, and none of them hubites. Then cinch up your breeches and try harder.” The sergeant walked away to berate another soldier.
Quint put more power into fire, lightning, and wind strings and had no more comments from the sergeant. Using more of his power while he casts a string was fun. He had always held back since he didn’t want to stand out. There were plenty of good string casters, but Quint knew he had more in reserve.
