“This is stupid!” I shouted angrily. “What are you trying to do, kill me?”
Loor stood there, staring at me, holding her long stick like a weapon. I realized that these thin sticks were the exact same size as the wooden weapons the Ghee used, but they were thin and hollow, like bamboo. I also saw that strapped to her elbows and her knees were red, wooden sticks. Spikes.
They were around an inch thick and stuck out about six inches. I remembered seeing these before. When Spader and I came to Zadaa, we saw the Ghee warriors playing a game that was like capture the flag. All the warriors wore these wooden spikes. Instead of beating each other up, the idea was to knock off their opponents spikes, sort of like in flag football. If you lost all your spikes, you were “dead” and had to leave the game.
“Oh, I get it,” I said snottily. “I’m supposed to knock off those spikes to get water? Forget it. I don’t want to play this game. I asked you to train me to be a warrior, not put me through some kind of initiation.”
I moved to get up, but Loor poked me in the chest, knocking me back down.
“Stop it!” I shouted. “I’m done, all right!”
“I cannot give you physical strength, Pendragon,” Loor said coldly. “Nor can I give you the skills to fight in the short time we have. Our only hope is to train you to think as a warrior, and to act without thinking.”
“What?” I shot back. “That’s nothing!”
“No,” she said quickly. “It is everything. You have the courage. You have the wisdom. You are agile and quick to react. Those tools are far more useful than physical strength. But they must be developed.”
“All I wanted was to learn how to use a weapon,” I complained.
Loor tossed her stick aside and said, “Very well. Take one of my spikes and the water is yours.”
I slowly got to my feet. Loor was now weaponless, but I wasn’t dumb enough to think she couldn’t still kick my butt. This wasn’t going to be a fight-it was about my grabbing one of those red spikes. How tough could it be? I approached her cautiously. She turned so that she no longer faced me head-on, but was leading with her right shoulder and hip. The wooden spikes now pointed at me, teasingly close. All I had to do was reach out and grab one. I quickly grabbed for her shoulder, but it was a fake and I went for the spike on her knee.
She didn’t go for the fake and flicked my hand away as easily as if she were batting away a mosquito. I grabbed at her elbow, she shifted slightly and pushed me forward, nearly knocking me off my feet. I got mad. I dove to the ground, rolled and reached for the spike on her knee. She sidestepped. I didn’t come close. I jumped back up and went straight for her, grabbing furiously. She calmly batted me away again and again. And again. It was embarrassing. I felt like a little kid trying to get my hat back from the school bully. Finally, in frustration, I swept the thin bamboo weapon off the ground and swung it at her. I didn’t want to hit her, I just wanted her to knock it away so I could go in and grab one of the spikes. I swung, she stepped aside, grabbed the other end, and yanked it down so hard it pulled me off my feet. I let go, but not before being dragged to my knees, out of breath and exhausted.
Loor hadn’t even broken a sweat. She leaned down to me and said, “Never make the first move.”
“Okay, I get your point,” I said. “Now can I have some water?”
Loor walked over to the tepee of sticks and yanked down the black canteen. “When you earn it,” she said, and left me kneeling there, beaten.
The worst part was, my ordeal was only beginning.
JOURNAL #21
(CONTINUED)
ZADAA
Twoweeks. That’s how long I’m guessing we spent at the Mooraj camp. It felt like two decades. It was the most grueling experience of my life, worsethan the time I spent in that gar prison on Eelong. There was no rest. Ever. The cruel game was on 24/7-or whatever measure they use to figure time here on Zadaa.
At first the only thing that kept me going was my anger at Loor and Alder and Saangi for the torture they were putting me through. They were relentless. I soon realized why Loor needed Alder’s help. They took turns working me over. When they weren’t making my life miserable, they were resting up to do it all over again. I didn’t have that luxury. I stole sleep where I could, but it wasn’t all that restful because I was never sure if one of them would pop up and start working me over again. That’s how intense it was. I felt incredibly alone. The only time anyone spoke to me was when they were giving me instructions. There were no time-outs. We didn’t hang around at the end of a long day and compare notes over cold drinks. I was on my own.
For me it was all about winning water, and food. If I didn’t earn it, I didn’t drink. Or eat. Starvation is a pretty good motivator. It sure makes you focus. Much of each day I spent wandering around Mooraj, looking for where they kept the food. I never found it. The others would be hiding, watching, and planning their next move. Without warning one of them would leap in front of me, and a training battle would follow.
Next up was Alder. He, too, used the hollow bamboo pole rather than the more dangerous, wooden weapon. I guess I should be grateful for something. I had my own pole, taken from the tepee that once held the canteen of water Loor wouldn’t let me have.
“Do not face me square-on,” Alder coached. “A smaller target is harder to hit.”
I attacked, swinging my pole at him. He knocked me away easily, then cracked me on the back of the head.
“You’re a pretty big target,” I said. “Why can’t I hit you?”
“Because you are trying,” Alder answered.
“Don’t give me that Yoda garbage,” I said. “Tell me what to do.”
“Relax,” Alder instructed. “If you are tense, you will make mistakes. Above all, never make the first move.”
“Relax? In a fight?” I lunged at him with the stick straight out like a sword. He easily knocked me away, spun, hit me on the shoulders and then spun back and hit my shins. I felt like I was fighting a swarm of bees. Alder wore the four red spikes, just like Loor. I desperately needed to knock one of them off to get water, but I might as well have been swinging with my eyes closed. I had no chance. What was so amazing was that I was using all my energy to get nowhere, and he was barely moving. After knocking me to my knees one last time, I looked up to see that Alder was gone.
“What’s the matter?” I yelled to nobody. “Had enough?”
I got no answer. I didn’t know if I was learning anything, but I was definitely losing gas and growing a few dozen black-and-blue marks. My throat felt like sandpaper. I was dizzy with hunger. I needed to score one of those spikes or I wouldn’t make it. I got my chance when Saangi appeared on the far side of the compound. She stood holding the black canteen. I didn’t want to look too desperate, even though I was. I walked toward her, but slowly. I got about twenty yards away when she held up her hand.
I stopped and called out, “Is it your turn now?”
“I’m here to give you this,” she called back, and held up the black canteen.
I could have kissed her, but realized it was probably too good to be true. “What do I have to do for it?” I asked suspiciously.
“Come and get it,” Saangi said calmly. “Be sure to watch where you step.”
Huh? I looked down to see she had stopped me about a foot from a pit cut into the ground. It was only five feet deep, so I wouldn’t have killed myself if I fell in. But it would have hurt. It was a long rectangle that stretched between me and Saangi. I saw that it was around six feet wide, with bars running across every four feet or so.
“What is this?” I called out sarcastically. “A test of my courage?”
“No,” Saangi answered. “It is a test of your balance. Make it across and the water is yours.”
Oh man. I was supposed to hop from bar to bar. Four feet apart may not seem like much, but the bars looked to be around three inches wide, and there was a drop.