"What in the nine hells is this?"
Tina turned to look at Talla, who was holding up an assignment card in bewilderment.
"What's it say?"
Talla flipped the card over and showed it to Tina.
The only things on the card were the current date and a curious symbol: a semi-circle with a horizontal arrow bisecting it and extending past its borders on either side.
"It's a bow and arrow," Tina said. "Military training."
Talla shook her head.
"We take military training?"
"Of course," Tina said. "Weren't you listening in History?"
"Apparently not."
"'If no one stands on the wall, the city will fall'," Tina quoted.
"So they train us to stand on a wall?"
"Shooting arrows and what not," Tina went on. "Some of the trusted men are supposed to be on the inside, too."
"Oh."
Would Zhair'lo be one of the trusted ones? Talla imagined so.
"Every Virgin has to take some training," Tina explained, shrugging. "They take you in big groups, so they can do the training all at once. You're gonna suck at it, though, without any Form upgrades. We all do."
"I've got one in Strength," Talla protested.
"And giant boobs getting in the way," Tina added as if Talla hadn't spoken.
The teasing tinged with jealousy was the sort of thing Talla was used to.
"Oh, but you have to head over right away," Tina pointed out. "They start at seventh bell."
That made it only slightly better than doing laundry. Talla supposed it made sense to get this sort of thing done before the heat became oppressive.
"Head over where?"
Tina grimaced.
"Form," she said. "Show them the card and they'll direct you."
Talla's face fell and turned pale.
"I'd go with you," Tina said. "But I've got to get to work, too. You should be done by third bell, though. Come find me in the baths?"
It was still their favourite meeting place, where they'd get together with Yua and whoever else could make it.
Talla nodded, her mouth suddenly dry, and turned away. There was nothing further that Tina could do for her. She feared even to give her friend a parting hug, lest that damage her composure. She was going need all of her resolve, wasn't she? Just to keep it together? How many days of training would she need? She could have asked Tina, but she wasn't going to do so now. Any reversal of course would break her at this point.
She passed out of Endowment Hall into the plaza in front of it. Women were milling around, just getting ready to start their days. Their utterly normal, completely non-frightening days.
Talla went through the crowd, trying not to think of anything at all and failing even at that. She knew where she was going and couldn't hide it from herself.
Wooden beams. Wooden walls. Wooden tables.
She mustn't think about the tables.
Somehow, she ghosted her way out of Endowment's triangle entirely and found her way across the Goddess's domain to the gates of Form. Dozens of other girls in white skirts were standing at the gates, already waiting.
"Hey, Talla!"
Talla turned to see Yua and fastened her gaze on her cheerful friend.
"So glad you're here," Talla stammered before clamping her mouth closed, not trusting her voice any further.
It wasn't just Yua though. Lara and Salee were there. So were Anzha and Nadine and all of the others who had been Sealed Virgins.
Talla heaved a sigh of relief. She wasn't doing this alone. There might be a hundred or so girls going in with her.
'Wait,' she thought. 'Does that mean ...'
She started looking around at the other groups of girls, clustering around those they knew. There was Natta, who had been the winner of Talla's Initiation, bunched up with what Talla took for Sweetness Virgins. For a moment, Talla thought to search for Zoe, but remembered that Zoe would, naturally, be on the other side of these gates. Possibly this training session was only for Endowment and Sweetness anyway. There might be other arrangements for those inside Form.
A wave of relaxation came over her. Friends were abundant. She would take the comfort of home along with her when she went to Form this time. There would be no trouble. She would do nothing suspicious. They were going to teach her how to use weapons and she was going to listen intently and diligently obey every order.
There would be no need for tables ... or whips.
Talla began to relax, letting the sounds of the other girls giggling and talking wash over her like a warm shower.
"Attention!" a voice cracked over them all.
Quite suddenly, the chattering came to an end. It was understood that one of the talents of From was that its women could do that with their voices.
The one speaking was not someone Talla had seen before. She wore black leather, shoulder to ankle despite the heat, and a wrought iron circlet on her brow. Her dark hair was parted in the middle and swept back over her ears, accentuating her sharp nose and her deep, blue eyes.
Those eyes glared over her captive audience.
"Those attending military training will enter now," she commanded. "Show your cards and keep them. Do not lose them. You will need them to gain admittance every day for the next four weeks."
There was a cadence in the woman's voice that disturbed Talla, almost as if she were used to singing but chose to put a lilt in her voice to punctuate the beginning of every sentence. It was a style of speaking faintly reminiscent of the manner in which Shanata had taught them before their Initiation.
The girls filed silently through the bronze gates, all pretence of amusement having been hammered away with a single shout.
Two guards stood just inside the gate, sternly demanding the display of cards, while the woman in black leathers walked at the head of the column.
Instinctively, without being aware of it, the girls had sorted themselves into two files. There appeared to be about eighty of them in total, as best Talla could tell. She waved her card in the air as she entered, refusing to make eye contact with the woman assigned to check it.
Down the long central road they went. Where else would they go? It was obvious, wasn't it? Where else could they do any military training except in the same giant courtyard where the Bazaar had been held?
That courtyard had, once again, changed. It wasn't empty, as it had been when they'd been here for punishments. It wasn't festooned with colourful fabrics and full of excited women as it had been for the Bazaar.
No, they'd done something entirely different this time around.
At one end, where they entered, there were two rows of thin, circular bales of hay mounted on what looked like artist's easels. At the other end was a long platform, parallel to the rows of hay bales, built on scaffolding about three metres high.
The woman in black marched them around the edge of the field and brought them to the midpoint of the hay bales and the scaffolding. The girls, assembling themselves unevenly, gave the clear impression they were out of their element. Their discomfort told the story of people who wanted to leave, even while that same discomfort kept them in line.
"Allow me to introduce myself," the woman in black intoned as she took a place between the girls and the bales of hay.
She continued hammering on the first word in every one of her sentences.
"My name is Gillian. I am an Officer of Iron. I am your instructor. You will address me as 'Mistress'."
There was a long pause, not because Gillian was unsure what to say, but because she wanted them to feel awkward.
"In times of strife," she went on, "it is the women of Form who are trained to go out beyond the walls and wreak havoc among those who would bring us harm. The rest of you stand on the walls and defend the city."
It was clear, from her tone of voice, which group held the higher honour.
