Page 27 of Court of Rivals
Hate feels like such a strong word.Do the three princes really feel that strongly about each other? Their own brothers?
We head to a different area of the academy. One I’ve never been to before, and I realize we’re going out of the walls and into the woods that border part of the academy. “What are we doing today?” I ask.
Roland gives me a regretful look that tells me I’m not going to like what he has to tell me even before he says anything. “It’s an obstacle course. We’ve all run it countless times before. No doubt you’ll be challenged to run it today.”
“It’s not enough that I humiliated myself yesterday?” I ask, just picturing an obstacle course everyone else has run a thousand times, and me having to run it for the first time, with everyone watching.
He seems surprised. “You didn’t humiliate yourself. You impressed everyone. Probably scared the crap out of them too. None of our dragons would defend us if we got hurt. They see all the problems between us as human problems to work out on our own. Your dragon seemed to seriously care about you. He even did what dragons rarely do, and he communicated with all of us, instead of just you. He was sending a message, and we all got it loud and clear. Don’t expect the challenges to stop, but I don’t think anyone will hurt you again.”
I’m surprised. I viewed yesterday in a completely different light, but it kind of makes me feel better to hear. Although I do really want these guys to respect me because of who I am, and not fear me because I have a big, protective male dragon at my back.
We end up outside in a space between the ocean and the woods. Stretching out in front of me is one of the most intimidating things I’ve ever seen. Their version of an obstaclecourse is like something out of a nightmare. Men move to different places on the obstacle course and start moving pieces of it, giving me a better picture of what I might face.
At least a hundred steps lead up to a rope bridge, where men have started pulling ropes that lead to massive axes that swing back and forth over the rope bridge. There are spaces between each axe, but a person would have to be quick and agile to slip between them without getting massively hurt, by being thrown off the side of such a tall structure. Then, there’s a huge net that goes higher than the treetops. It looks like a mountain of sorts, where a person would have to scale one side, then climb down the other. Not at all an easy task. Beyond that are swinging pieces of wood hung by chains. It looks like you have to swing from one piece of wood to the next without dropping into the murky water in a hole beneath it. If you survive that, there are a bunch of square pieces of metal on the ground, spread out. Which, seems harmless, but I’m pretty sure is some other kind of awful thing. Then, it looks like you have to drag yourself under a bunch of barbed wire, before running to a couple of flags at the other end.
“Whoa,” I mutter.
“Yeah, it’s not easy. Even recruits who have done this a million times get hurt because they’re constantly changing it to keep us on our heels.”
“And how does this help us to be better dragon riders?” I ask him, truly curious.
“It makes us stronger, faster, smarter, and able to think on the fly, all of which are things we need to be successful as dragon riders.”
“Fair enough.”
We linger just on the outside of the others as a man with a mop of black hair challenges a man with auburn hair. The two step up, and the men begin chanting and shouting, which I’mbeginning to think is their thing.Or is this something all men do? Is this how they inspire each other? Pump up each other’s dicks?
I really don’t get it. It’s just distracting to me.
Someone rings a bell, and the two men take off.
“First is the rope bridge,” Roland tells me softly. “A lot of the guys think this one is all about speed, but it’s not. It’s about being smart. See, the axes aren’t sharp, so they aren’t killing anyone when they hit them, but they hurt like hell, and getting knocked that far down, and having to climb back up, takes time. It’s smart to go slow and not have to redo it.”
I listen intently. Somewhere in my gut I know someone is going to challenge me today. It’s not an if, it’s a when. I might not beat them, but my goal is to not embarrass myself.
As we watch, both men get knocked off at different times and have to start over. Roland is right. They’re so busy trying to go fast, that they’re not being smart. Realization dawns on me. I’ve never done something like this before, but I’ve run The Gauntlet back home more times than I can count, and this isn’t that different. Challenges are in their way, and they have to get through them to reach their destination. I can do that.
When they finally make their way across, Roland starts talking again, leaning in closer, “They’re starting on Net Mountain. That obstacle requires a combination of skills, strength, and quickness. You have to watch where you put your hands and feet, but you also have to move fast enough that they don’t beat you.”
The red-haired man is beating out the dark-haired man. He reaches the top of Net Mountain while the other guy is only halfway up. Watching both of them, I think it might be sheer strength that allows Mr. RedHead to get up and over so quickly.
They eventually make it to the other side, with the red-head in the lead. “See, he’s got a good grip of the wood, and then he’sswinging himself back and forth until he has enough momentum to catch the next piece. You can’t reach the other ones without the momentum.” But to my surprise, the dark-haired man is catching up. “See, Lord Berengar is getting reckless trying to catch up to Lord Wulfric. He’s going to–”
And then, the dark-haired man misses the wood and falls into the muck.
Half the men cheer. The others seem upset. I get the sinking sensation that some of what they’re discussing are bets on who will win and who will lose.
Lord Berengar pulls himself out of the muck, even though he’s covered in a coat of it, and climbs on a rope ladder and gets back up. Now, he’s really behind the red-head, but he doesn’t seem phased by it. Maybe more determined, if anything.
“See, Lord Wulfric is onto the Squares of Fate.”
“What do those do?” I ask.
He opens his mouth to answer, but as the red-head lands on one of the spots, the square collapses in, and he falls through it into more muck far below. He starts swearing, so loud I can hear it over the cheers and jeers of the men. He starts to climb up another rope ladder to get back in when the dark-haired man, Lord Berengar makes it to the squares of destiny. He leaps from one square to another as everyone seems to hold their breath.
“The squares, at random, cave in, so this part of the obstacle course is all about fate.”
I watch carefully, noting every square he lands on that keeps him in the game. Eventually, he makes it to the other side, and the red-head reaches the squares once more. Unfortunately for Lord Wulfric, he jumps on the wrong squares twice more, landing in the muck angrily each time. By the time he’s finished, the dark-haired man is nearly done climbing under the barbed wire. Lord Wulfric is just reaching the end of the barbed wirewhen Lord Berengar reaches one flag, grabs it, and waves it above his head.
