With breakfast out of the way, we hit the ground running.
Irena led me to the back room.
Oh! How cramped it was!
I now come to realise the work before us.
We dove into it- making inventory, hashing out the specifics, eh ...just the typical bookkeeping drivel.
It wasn't really that difficult- Irena did most of the work, mostly showing me how things were run.
Thinking of it, I appreciate the trust she has placed on me, a total stranger.
A couple of hours flew by, we barely registered the passage of time, not until everything was in order.
The room looked more presentable when we were done- supplies stacked and neatly arranged- surprisingly it felt more roomy.
And all we had to show for it?
Dusty but with a content feeling whelling within our chest- a warm energetic flame of accomplishment.
The prospects of lunch did a lot to further lighten the mood.
"You weren't kidding" Irena remarks, "Saying you're 'decent with the pen' is an understatement." She hand quotes
"Spent a considerable amount of my time engrossed in text" I lightly intone.
Proud that my skill is noticed
Well? What can I say?
I got so immersed into the cadence of my mundane job that a week went by.
Without me noticing!
Over the week I came to interact with the locals- warm and easy-going chals.
Most already knew me by name, or as Irena's delivery boy.
What I came to learn is that I wasn't alone in my love for Irena's cooking expertise, especially her bread.
I made multiple delivery runs through the day- to the garrison, door to door.
I love my job, modest as it is.
I've come to enjoy the simplicity in everything.
My wounds had scabbed over, a long way in its healing path, thanks to Irena's salves.
Even now as I walk, I can't help but bounce to the rhythm of it all- ahh life's great.
"Oi!"
I pause, looking over the gate.
There.
"Oi!"
A guardsman leaves his post and walks to me.
"Oh, hey there Rain!" He greets, "Have something for us?"
"Yes" I reply.
The gate creaks open, I walk in, basket in hand.
The garrison barracks had grown so familiar that I knew it like the back of my hands- I could maneuver within, blindfolded.
"The captain's overseeing training, you know the way right? I have to get back to my post."
The guardsman leaves as soon as my head moves to nod.
My mind races, churning with thoughts
I have been scheming, since I first set foot into the barracks.
I wanted to join them. No, I needed to join them.
But I knew better than to outright ask- I am a stranger to these people after all.
Not to complain, they didn't make me feel that, No ..They were so cordial and simple to talk to, albeit rigid
You don't mess with the one who handles you food- that's an innate instinct.
I digress, back to my schemes, yes.
I have been planning, aligning events.
Asking outright was a No! No!
Option B?
To play them right into my palm.
I came early, knowing they'd still be training
So how then would they take me in you ask?
Make a man think the idea is his and you wont have to bother convincing...they'll do it themselves.
As I walk into the noisy training yard, everyone takes an uncued pause- the warm and aromatic bread drawing their gazes.
"What are you staring at? Eh?" Captain Harlan snarls "Fifty push ups, Now!"
"Hey there lad."
"Sir" I reply, prompt
Captain Harlan takes lifts the basket cover, gives it a whiff.
I swear! I saw his eyes glaze over, for a fraction of a second!
"Give me a few minutes," Captain Harlan quips, his steps carrying him back into the training yard.
The yard was quite expansive, currently , it had twelve occupants, thirteen me included.
A row of practice dummies at its furthest end ,
A neat pile of different weights,
And my target
A weapons rack- wooden training weapons, intricately carved such that the felt like the real deal
I watch, silently bidding my time
Now!
The basket gently touches the cobbled walkway
I'm on the move, looking absentminded
I stare at the weapons rack, awe apparent in my face.
[The bait]
I grab a pair of wooden daggers, intimately tracing its wooden blade, sinking my fingers along its groove.
Physically savouring its wooden grains,
[Come 'on bite ...damn it]
I give it a swing, then another
Shift my stance, my feet grounded,
I slide, roll and lash out two rapid strikes
Fancy yourself a warrior eh?
[Bingo!]
I flinch, acting flustered
"I...I... sorry ...I didn't mean to! "
"Quit yapping boy! Come at me!"
[With pleasure]
And so I comply
What unfolded next was nothing short of a proper beatdown.
The floor was wiped with me, Literally
"Pitiful" Captain Harlan snorts, a sick, gleeful and the most twisted smile I've ever seen plastered his face.
[At least he enjoyed it]
I think, rubbing my sore muscles.
The trainees, who had stopped at some point to watch our exchange laughed, suppressing their laughs when Harlan directs his gaze at them- save for an occasional giggle here and there.
We all converge at the basket, everyone taking a piece- leaving the basket three quarters full.
"Not bad for a first time" The guy smacks my back
"Tough luck...against Cap'n !" Another murmurs showing pity
"Don't beat yourself over it too much, brother."
"The Guy is a BEAST!"
The last part was said out of Captain Harlan's earshot.
All the trainees disperse.
I turn to leave ...cursing inwardly
"Boy!"
I turn, There he is.
"Yes sir?"
The Captain, gives me a puzzled look
"Come for the basket at dusk" he sighs then shrugs "I might as well as drill some discipline into you"
"Don't be late."
Saluting "I wont be. Sir!"
I might have taken it too far with the salute
All in all, I felt quite happy with myself ....after all I got my desire fulfilled.
What if I got a few bruises in the process (shrugs)