Chapter 16

  Francis woke before dawn with a headache that reminded him why he usually avoided whatever passed for alcohol among the barbarians.

  That stuff tasted like burning leather mixed with piss.

  But the night had been worth it. He'd sat with the pack around a fire, passing a skin of something that burned going down and kept burning after. They'd shared stories that helped Francis learn a little bit more about his pack. Harald talking about his first hunt, Eirik describing a fight with a frost bear, Vornak demonstrating how he'd once knocked out three men in a brawl.

  Francis had contributed too. He told them about being the ninth son, about the catkin and rhinokin his kingdom faced, about training with instructors who seemed to enjoy making him suffer. He'd kept the loop secret, obviously, but there was enough truth in his stories to satisfy their curiosity.

  Helga had asked good questions, always digging deeper into why southerners acted that way, or who cared what birth order you were born in. Vornak had even laughed at some of Francis’s jokes. Selka had been there, though she'd sat apart from the group and said nothing.

  Now, as Francis splashed cold water on his face and gathered his gear, he felt the weight of what was coming. Today was about learning to fight as a unit. Tomorrow, they'd face the real thing.

  It felt weird to train with a group again. These barbarians were far more skilled than the teens he had learned to fight with. Even though it was technically almost two weeks since the last training session with Phillip, it felt like a lifetime ago.

  It’s also been a while since I’ve seen Michael.

  That thought sent a pang of longing through him. Shaking his head and splashing water once more on his face, Francis knew what today would bring.

  No pressure. I just have to look good enough to impress, yet not so great that I make them look bad.

  He arrived at the Commons just as the sun was starting to rise over the horizon. His exposed skin could feel the cold, but it was less than on his first loop. Still, it was cold enough that his breath formed clouds in the air each time he spoke or breathed.

  The pack was already together and ready when Francis arrived. Hroden stood with his arms crossed, watching as Vornak and Eirik went through some warm-up exercises. Harald was stretching, and Helga was checking her bow and arrows.

  Selka was nowhere to be seen.

  "Morning," Francis said as he approached.

  "Southerner," Hroden acknowledged with a nod. "Sleep well?"

  "As well as anyone can after drinking whatever that was last night," Francis replied.

  Vornak laughed. "That's fermented goat's milk with pine needles and a few other things. It builds character and can kill rats."

  "I think it builds regret far more than character," Francis muttered.

  Hroden glanced toward the camp, his jaw tightening. "Selka should be here by now."

  "Want me to go find her?" Harald offered.

  "No." Hroden's voice was flat. "We don't have time to wait. Another pack is coming to help us drill formations. We start without her."

  That's not going to go well for her.

  As if on cue, six more barbarians appeared from across the Commons. They looked just as tough as Hroden's pack, armed with axes, spears, and shields.

  "Hroden," the leader called out. A woman with silver-streaked hair and a scar across her cheek. "Ready to get beaten again?"

  "We'll see about that, Nessa," Hroden replied with a slight grin. "My pack's been training hard."

  Nessa's eyes fell on Francis. "This is the southerner everyone's talking about?"

  "That's him," Hroden confirmed.

  "He looks small," one of Nessa's warriors commented.

  "He fights well enough," Eirik said. "Dropped all of us yesterday."

  That earned Francis some appraising looks from the other pack.

  "Alright," Hroden said, clapping his hands together. "Formations. We'll start by moving through defensive positions first. Helga is in the center, always . She's our archer, so she needs protection to do her job."

  He pointed to different positions. "Vornak, you're front center. Your job is to hold the line. Eirik, Harald, you take the flanks. Francis, you're with me on flexible positioning. We move where we're needed most."

  Francis nodded, committing the arrangement to memory.

  "Nessa's pack will act as the enemy," Hroden continued. "They'll try to break through to Helga. Our job is to stop them. No real weapons, practice gear only. But don't hold back. We need to feel what it's like when things get rough."

  Everyone grabbed practice weapons and moved into position.

  ---

  The first run was a little chaotic.

  Nessa's pack hit them hard and fast, three warriors converging on Vornak while the others tried to slip past the flanks. Francis moved to help Harald on the left, but by the time he got there, two of the enemy warriors had already pushed through.

  Even with his speed, Francis had to choose between showing off or waiting till asked for help. He wasn’t sure which was the right path as Hroden hadn’t given any instructions.

  Helga managed to "shoot" one with a blunt arrow before the other reached her. In a real fight, she'd be dead.

  "Stop," Hroden called out. "Reset."

  They regrouped, standing in a circle, waiting to hear their leader's words.

  "What went wrong?" Hroden asked.

  "We didn't communicate," Harald said. "I didn't know Francis was coming to help me… I’m used to Selka just showing up."

  "And I moved too slow," Francis admitted. "By the time I got there, they were already past."

  Hroden nodded. "Communication is everything. Call out when you need help. Call out when you're moving. And Francis, don't wait to see if someone else will handle it. If you see a gap, fill it immediately. The beasts out there won’t hesitate."

  "Understood," Francis replied.

  They ran it again.

  This time, Francis reacted faster. When Nessa's warriors tried the same flanking move, he was already there, his practice swords intercepting their axes. Harald backed him up, and together they held the line long enough for Helga to take down three of the enemy with her blunt arrows.

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  However, Vornak became overwhelmed at the center, and without him maintaining his position, the formation collapsed.

  "Better," Hroden said. "But we lost our anchor. Vornak, you can't try to fight all of them alone. Fall back if you need to. Let them come to you."

  "I can hold," Vornak protested.

  "Not against five," Hroden replied. "Pride doesn't win fights. Tactics do."

  Vornak grumbled but nodded.

  They were setting up for the third run when Selka finally appeared.

  She walked across the Commons like she had all the time in the world, her practice axe slung over her shoulder. No hurry, no apology in her expression.

  Hroden's face went dark.

  "Selka," he said, his voice dangerously quiet. "A word. Now."

  They walked off to the side, far enough that Francis couldn't hear what was being said. But he could see Hroden's gestures, sharp and angry. Selka stood there, arms crossed, her expression defiant.

  This is going to be a problem tomorrow if they can't work it out.

  "She's always late," Eirik said quietly, coming to stand beside Francis. "Ever since... well. Ever since her family lost their standing."

  "What happened?" Francis asked.

  Eirik shook his head. "Not our story to share. Honor means we don't tell others' secrets or pain."

  "But honor also means we shouldn't let our pain affect the others we're bound to," Harald added, joining them. "She's putting the pack at risk."

  Francis thought about that. About the connections Tormund had talked about. How the join between pieces mattered more than the pieces themselves.

  A pack is only as strong as its weakest link. And right now, Selka's the weak link. Not because she can't fight, but because she won't work with the rest of us.

  "Has anyone tried talking to her?" Francis asked. "Really talking, I mean."

  "Hroden has," Vornak said, walking over. "Multiple times. She won't listen. She has too much anger."

  "Anger at southerners," Francis said.

  "Aye, but it’s more than that," Vornak confirmed. "Something that happened years ago. It cost her family their honor and their standing in the clan. She blames your people for it."

  "All of my people?" Francis asked. "Or specific ones?"

  "Does it matter to her?" Helga said, appearing from behind. "Pain doesn't care about logic. It just burns. That’s like asking ‘Does a rabbit taste good’. All rabbits taste the same."

  “Not true,” Vornak replied. “Depending on the cook, the rabbit can taste like crap.”

  Francis watched as Hroden continued his dressing down of Selka. The pack leader's frustration was obvious, but so was something else. Concern, maybe. Or disappointment.

  He cares about her. About all of them. That's why this is so hard for him.

  Finally, Hroden and Selka returned. She looked chastened, if still angry. Hroden's expression was neutral, but Francis could see the tension in his jaw.

  "We continue," Hroden announced. "Selka, you're on the right flank. Don't be late again."

  "Understood," Selka said, her voice sounding lifeless.

  ---

  They ran three more formations with Selka present.

  The first one went poorly. Selka was out of position twice, forcing Francis to cover gaps she should have filled. Nessa's pack exploited the weakness, and Helga got "killed" again.

  The second run was better. Selka stayed where she was supposed to be, and when the enemy tried to break through on her side, she held her ground. Francis moved to support Vornak at the center, and together they managed to keep the formation intact long enough for Helga to do her job.

  The third run was nearly perfect.

  They moved as a unit, each person covering their assigned position while adapting to the enemy's tactics. When Nessa's pack tried to overwhelm Vornak, Harald and Francis collapsed inward to lend a hand. When they switched to flanking, Selka and Eirik held firm.

  Helga picked off four enemies before the last two reached the defensive line, and Hroden finished them both with quick, efficient strikes.

  "Stop," Hroden called out, and this time there was satisfaction in his voice. "That's what I'm talking about. That's how we fight."

  Nessa walked over, grinning despite the mock defeat. "Not bad, Hroden. Your pack's learning. Though I'd like to see how they do when the enemy doesn't play fair."

  "Tomorrow, you'll get to watch," Hroden replied. He had a half smile as he spoke and Francis was trying to figure out what was going on between the two leaders.

  The two packs separated. Nessa's headed back to their section of the Commons while Hroden gathered everyone in a circle.

  "Alright," he said. "Let's talk about what worked and what didn't."

  He pointed at Vornak. "You held the center well in that last run. Didn't try to do everything yourself. That's improvement."

  Vornak nodded, looking pleased.

  "Harald, Eirik," Hroden continued. "Your flanking work was solid. You adapted when Francis came to help at the center, and didn't leave your positions exposed. Good instincts."

  Both warriors smiled.

  "Helga, your timing was perfect on that last run. You waited for clear shots instead of wasting arrows. That's discipline."

  Helga inclined her head in acknowledgment.

  Hroden turned to Francis. "You're learning fast. Faster than I expected. You filled gaps, communicated, and didn't try to do everything yourself. That's what makes a good pack member."

  "Thank you," Francis said.

  Finally, Hroden looked at Selka. His expression was harder now. "You held your position in the last two runs. That's what I need from you. But being late? That can't happen again. Tomorrow, we're facing real enemies with real weapons. If you're not there, people die. Understand?"

  Selka's jaw tightened, but she nodded. "I understand."

  "Good." Hroden looked around at all of them. "Tomorrow, we meet here an hour after sunrise. Edge of the Commons, near the outer palisade. Bring your weapons and armor. We're going hunting."

  A murmur of acknowledgement went through the group.

  "Get some rest," Hroden said. "Check your gear. Make sure everything's ready. And for the love of the gods, don't drink anything Vornak offers you tonight."

  That got a few laughs, even from Vornak himself.

  As the pack began to disperse, Francis found himself walking alongside Helga.

  "You did well today," she said.

  "Thanks. I’m still learning how you all work together."

  "You'll get it," Helga replied. "You already understand the most important part."

  "What's that?" Francis asked.

  "That it's not about being the best fighter," she said. "It's about making everyone else better. That's what a pack is."

  The connections matter more than the individual pieces.

  "I'm starting to see that," Francis said.

  Helga smiled. "Good. Because tomorrow, you'll need to remember it. Out there, things get messy fast. The only way we survive is if we trust each other completely."

  Francis looked back at where Selka stood alone, still gripping her practice axe, staring at nothing.

  Trust. That's what we're missing. And I don't know if one day is enough to build it.

  But he'd have to try. Because tomorrow, lives would depend on it.

  His included.

  ?