Page 68 of Forcing Fate

I hit the ground and shot for the balance beam. I bolted across it, not bothering to walk like most soldiers. If I ran, it would be over sooner and I could better control my slight balance.

Sprinting off the beam, I sped toward the rope danging fifteen paces in the air. I jumped as high as I could, latching onto it. I wound the rope around my legs to make a rest. As the rope entwined my boots, I was thankful I neglected my sandals, despite the heat. With the rope secured around my feet, I inched my way up, gasping for breath as I went, arms shaking.

I slapped the top beam and slid down. Fire scorched my hands as the rough rope shredded the soft flesh of my palms. I hissed in pain and dropped to a crouch as my feet hit the ground.

“Let’s go!”

Commander Dewal’s bellow tore my gaze from my bloody hands and I focused on the next obstacle, a series of logs raised to chest height. My lungs screamed for air as I sprinted for them, but I couldn’t get a grip on the smooth wood. Frustration made my movements quick and angry. My marred skin dragged against the bark every time I tried and slipped.

“Hands on top!”

I threw myself at it again, jumping and planting my hands on top of the log. A wince twisted my face as I forced all my strength into my arms to lift myself. Willhelm’s called advice worked, and I mentally thanked him as I swung my legs over.

Four more to go.

My chest ached as I heaved for breath. I had a stitch in my side, and sweat drenched my skin, but I kept going. I didn’t think for a moment about modesty. If these men expected me not to flinch when they ran around naked, they could handle a little leg.

Ropes tore into my bleeding palms as I balanced on the supports, crossing a wooden bridge missing several planks. I leapt across the last bit, missing the end of the bridge. My knees collided with the ground, sending a jolt of pain through my body.

Groaning, I pulled myself up and charged forward. My strength was fading fast. Fatigue fumbled my steps as I completed the next hurdles. I tried to pace myself, even with Commander Dewal shouting at me to hurry.

The last obstacle was a thin bar raised high in the air. I was supposed to get up and flip over it… and I couldn’t even reach it. I ran and jumped, hands seeking the cool metal, but my fingertips didn’t even brush it. Positioning myself underneath, I jumped for all I was worth. Not even close.

I was short compared to most women, let alone men. Still, being unable to reach this bar was humiliating.

“Get on the bar, recruit!”

Commander Dewal and General Rafe stalked toward me. I had spent too much time on this obstacle. They could fail me for this.

I jumped again with all my might—and missed.

“Get up on that bar, or I will dismiss you!” Commander Dewal screamed in my ear. He held himself with such grace, yet his tone raged with such ferocity, as if I hurt his favorite puppy.

I leapt again. An exasperated whine tore out of my throat. I would never reach it.

“I’m leaving her dismissal at your discretion, General,” he finally said. His lip curled with disdain as he inclined his head to the General.

I glanced at General Rafe, who stood there in the blaring sun, a bored look on his face. His arms were still crossed over his chest and he held himself with such arrogance.

“She’s worthless if she can’t get on that bar,” he grumbled.

“Women aren’t cut out for this,” Commander Dewal agreed.

I swear my vision went red. Their words stirred the blood in my veins. “I have to get over the bar? That’s it?” I growled.

General Rafe’s mouth quirked up on one side as he dipped his head.

I threw myself at the bar’s rough supports and scrambled up it for all I was worth. My nails tore, and my grip slipped as splinters bit into my raw palms. But I got up. I swung over the bar with as much modesty as I could manage.

I ran to the finish line and doubled over, gasping for air. Pain and exhaustion sent tremors through every limb.

“You did good.”

I peeked through my lashes to see Willhelm crouching beside me. I flashed him a tired smile and closed my eyes, focusing on breathing.

“Twenty push-ups.”

I jerked upright. General Rafe stood there—smirking. Commander Dewal had moved on to the next recruit. My jaw dropped, and General Rafe lowered his arms, bringing himself up to his full height. I was a recruit. He was a General. I couldn’t talk back to him.

---