Two minutes later the non-heir followed suit.
"Well done, Darren. Ryiah that was… acceptable." The master seemed to be pulling the words from his teeth.
The mentors took over casting. I braced myself for Ian's inevitable misstep but nothing bad happened. The third-year seemed to be concentrating extra hard: I was not thrown once during his attempt.
After a couple of minutes Ian returned me to the ground, finishing before the other mentors.
I smiled at him, grateful he had managed to avoid dropping me and jostling my bad arm. "You did it, Ian!"
He winked. "It would seem I just needed the right motivation."
My heart skipped a beat. Don't be a fool – he doesn't mean anything by it.
Darren, still levitating nearby, snorted. Lynn lowered the prince and fixed her gaze on Ian. "Very impressive, Ian. I am so happy Master Byron's lessons are coming along."
The third-year chuckled and then glanced at her partner. "Sorry about earlier."
Darren raised a brow. "Sorry that I am not a pretty red-haired apprentice, or sorry that you were not trying?"
Ian grinned. "Might be a bit of both."
I hardly remembered the rest of our lesson. He thought I was pretty.
It was only much later as I was shoveling waste out of the barrack privies that it occurred to me to wonder which one I had been thinking of.
CHAPTER THREE
"Alright, second-years. It's the moment you have all been preparing for: today you will be participating in your first mock battle. We host one of these at the end of each initial field training. Which means that by the end of your apprenticeship you will have completed four."
Master Byron marched up and down the student line, preening in the light of his audience. "When we return to the desert after the solstice you will no longer be completing the schedule we've had you following the past few months. From January through May you will be deployed in regiment missions patrolling the Red Desert.
"Today Commander Ama and her mages will be observing your skills. They will be using this exercise to evaluate your level for future placement."
The other two masters – cold Master Joan from Restoration and Master Perry of Alchemy - took over, detailing their expectations for our simulated encounter. All sixty-one apprentices would be divided into two teams: the second - and fourth-year mentees against the third - and fifth-year mentors. It wasn't intended to be a fair match, but it would give us the opportunity to showcase what we had learned.
"Each of the teams will have a leader." Master Perry brushed back a strand of her short blonde hair and continued. "I leave it to you to elect a Combat apprentice for each. Whoever you choose will be in charge of strategy. You will have two hours to plot amongst yourselves before starting." She paused. "Please remember this is a group effort. You will not be doing yourself any favors by neglecting your teammates: if your leader is captured you will automatically lose. This person will be recognized by a black cloth they tie around their forearm."
Commander Ama joined the masters and the rest of her infirmary under the shadow of a nearby crag. We were three miles outside of the outpost, immersed in a true wasteland without a building in sight. Behind us was an endless expanse of steep cliffs, sand, and desert wildlife. Strange flowers and crooked cacti dotted the landscape.
"This is a true-to-life battle," the bald woman declared. Her voice was coarse and gruff, and the expression she wore was grim. "I expect you to treat the opposing team as a true enemy."
Ella elbowed me, snickering. "You heard her. No special treatment for Ian. He's your enemy now."
I shoved her back in good spirits, "I don't know what you are talking about."
"Apprentices – report to your teams now! You have two hours and a limited number of supplies to prepare for your battle."
Immediately our factions dispersed. Ella and I followed the rest of the second - and fourth-year apprentices to the shade of a large overhanging peak. Beside its face were fifteen single-horse chariots, a giant crate filled with empty flasks and common desert ingredients used in Alchemy, and thirty-one sickle swords, the most common melee weapon of the Red Desert regiments.
To our right, the third - and fifth-years clustered behind a large mesa a mile away. From the loud voices carrying through the canyon I could sense they were arguing, undoubtedly trying to decide a leader.