by Jane Fletcher

Katryn’s lungs were burning, her heartbeat was pounding in her ears, and the shoulder straps of her weighted backpack were biting deeper into her shoulders with each stride. Sweat stung in the chafed cuts. Her legs were both leaden and rubbery. Every muscle in her body was in agony. Her life had reduced to the effort to throw one foot in front of the other on the rough woodland track.

Birds whistled in the branches, the rich scent of firs filled the air. The warm sunlight would have been pleasant on an afternoon’s stroll, but only added to the torment on the assessment run. A slight breeze stirring the tops of the trees did not reach the forest floor to dry the sweat on her face. Stones and roots broke the surface of the path; twice Katryn stumbled and nearly fell as the trail climbed the wooded hillside.

At the top of the incline the track emerged onto coarse pastureland. Sheep were dotted over the slopes. The sun was hotter, but the wind could now offer some relief. In wordless agreement the applicants for the rangers paused to try and regain part of their breath.

Katryn rested her hands on her knees, sucking in lungfuls of air. Probably stopping was not a good idea, she could feel her body trembling, but she could not afford to give in to weakness yet. She had to keep going. The sun was dropping towards the horizon, and the finishing line at Fort Krowe was still kilometres away. The team of applicants had to complete the run by sunset if they were to be considered for the rangers. The timed endurance run was the last, and most gruelling, of the entrance tests.

Katryn looked at the seven other women. They were all either eighteen or nineteen, making her the oldest by several years, but their youth did not seem to be conferring any advantage. Most of them appeared just as exhausted as herself, and one looked an awful lot worse. This woman, Laura, was shaking visibly, her skin was blanched, and her eyes were glazed. She had been the pace-setter for the first two hours of the run, and had obviously pushed herself too far.

"Are you all right?" Katryn asked in concern.

Laura nodded, but could not speak.

"Come on. We need to get moving." one of the other applicants called out. Katryn glanced across. The speaker was Gitana, the tallest and strongest of the applicants. Throughout the series of tests her manner had made it clear she felt a place in the rangers was hers by right. She was so arrogantly sure of herself she had managed to convince most of the other applicants as well. Many of them now looked to her for a lead – a role Gitana also seemed to feel she deserved. But a leader must take responsibility for her followers. Katryn opened her mouth, about to express doubts concerning Laura’s condition, but Gitana had already set off running, and Laura was trotting after. Katryn tagged on at the rear.

For another two kilometres the route kept to the highland, and then it dropped again into a valley. At the bottom a wide stream rippled over stones. Katryn’s boots splashed down into the water which barely covered the toe. In three strides she had crossed the stream and scrambled over the undercut ledge on the far side. Three of the applicants struggled awkwardly on the waist-high bank. The weakest woman did not make it. Laura collapsed against the edge of the stream and then began to slip sideways into the water.

Katryn jumped down and, with two other applicants, got Laura onto dry land. They lay her on the ground, virtually unconscious. She was not going to run any further. Someone took her pulse while the rest stood around or collapsed on the grass, exchanging anxious looks.

"What do we do?" one of the applicants asked of the group in general.

"We’ll have to carry her." Katryn answered between gasps..

"Then we’ll never make Fort Krowe in time." Gitana objected immediately.

"We can’t leave her here." Katryn spoke up again.

"I’m not giving up my chance to join the rangers, just because someone else isn’t up to it."

"We’re supposed to be a team. We should carry her."

Most of the group hung their heads, too exhausted or too unsure of themselves to want to voice their thoughts. Gitana glared at Katryn, trying to intimidate her into backing down. When this didn’t happen Gitana scowled and looked away, thinking of fresh arguments. "The people at Fort Krowe need to get a healer out here as quickly as possible. Therefore we need to get to them as quickly as possible. Which means we run flat out. If you want you can stay here and keep an eye on her."

The delivery made it more an ultimatum than a plan. Katryn looked around at the others. None of them would meet her eyes. It was obvious whose side they took – they weren’t happy about abandoning Laura, but wouldn’t risk failing the test for her sake. Katryn finished with her gaze on the woman on the grass. She pursed her lips, trying to keep the sarcastic anger from her expression. Was it really fair to judge the other applicants? Maybe they were simply more committed to the dream of joining the rangers than herself, or maybe her added experience made her value team unity more. However there was no way she could desert a colleague in need. She raised her eyes again to meet Gitana’s, and shrugged. "Okay, it’s on your conscience."

"Right." The woman smiled, ignoring the implied criticism. "Keep an eye on her. We’ll let them know where you are." Already Gitana was back on form, making it sound as if she was the one giving orders. She turned to the other applicants. "Come on, now. Let’s get going." At a steady trot she lead the remaining women up the trail.

Katryn knelt down and slipped the backpack from her shoulders. It hit the ground with a heavy thump. She fumbled to remove the collapsed woman’s pack as well, and loosen her clothes. Laura groaned, her legs were starting to shake spasmodically. Katryn lifted one of Laura’s eyelids with her thumb, and saw mainly white. The woman was clearly in a very bad way.

Katryn turned her head. The other applicants were about to disappear over the brow of the hill. Katryn felt angry at their self-serving callousness, and irritated at her own impotence. In applying to enter the rangers she’d had to forgo her rank of sergeant. Now she found herself missing the three stripes on her badge. If she’d been in charge she could have insisted on the others carrying Laura. Katryn’s expression became even more grim. Perhaps, if she’d been applying to the rangers out of real ambition, rather than as a bolt-hole, she’d have had the determination to challenge Gitana’s lead.

But there was no point wasting time on ifs. The sick woman needed her help. Katryn dragged one of the packs over. Most of the weight was made up of sandbags, but there were some useful items in them as well. It did not take much digging around to find the salt rations, a tin cup, and a blanket. Katryn filled the cup from the stream and added the salt. She took the first draught herself and was surprised at how good it tasted, then she got Laura into a sitting position and tried to get her to drink – with partial success, much of the water dribbled down Laura’s chin.

The sun was still warm, but, now they had stopped running, Katryn was starting to cool, and Laura’s skin felt icy. Katryn wrapped her in the blanket and then lay down herself, hoping to recover her strength, but it was impossible to rest. Tingling cramps clawed at her legs The sun was sinking lower, and the temperature was falling with it. Lying on the cold ground was not a good idea.

Katryn shielded her eyes to stare along the track, wondering how long it might be before a rescue arrived, and whether it would be in time for Laura. Katryn examined her again, there was no doubt her condition was worse. It might be exhaustion, salt loss, or some other medical condition. Laura was now fully unconscious, and her pulse was weak. She was in real danger, and a few minutes either way might prove crucial. It would be a good idea to minimise the distance the rescue party had to travel from Fort Krowe.

Katryn got to her feet. She felt weak and shaky. Her legs ached, and her stomach was nauseous, but it was not her life at stake. After a lot of effort she managed to get the sick woman up and over her shoulders, and then, resolutely, Katryn began to walk along the trail.

**********

The light had gone and stars glittered in the deep blue sky. The wind had increased, with a cold stinging edge. Katryn had lost all sense of who or where she was. It was hard even to focus her eyes on the ground. Her feet kept to the trail mainly out of instinct. There was no thought in her head except the determination to keep going, although she could no longer remember why or where.

Lost in exhaustion, Katryn was unaware of the sound of approaching horses, or the shouts when she was spotted. The riders reined in their mounts and dropped to the ground, surrounding her. Katryn stared at the circle of faces in confusion. Her feet came to a standstill, and then, without warning, her knees gave way. Hands caught hold of her, and Laura was lifted from her shoulders. Something was said, Katryn thought it was a question, but she was unable to make sense of the words and shook her head. The night sky whirled when she did so. Katryn felt as if she was simultaneously drunk and hungover.

A horse was positioned in front of her. Katryn stared at it as if she had never seen one before. More words were spoken. She was hauled up like a sack of potatoes, and placed in the saddle. A second rider swung up behind, reaching around take the reins and holding her so she would not fall. There was a period of confused milling around, voices called out, and then another rider, a healer, brought her horse alongside, close enough to reach out and put her hand on Katryn’s brow. For a moment the fog lifted from Katryn’s mind, and then she drifted off into a gentle, healing sleep.

**********

It was late afternoon the following day when Katryn was giving the meeting to formally be told the result of her application. Not that she was in any doubt of what the decision would be. Via the camp grapevine she had already learned all the other applicants had been rejected, even those who had completed the run inside the time limit, whereas she had not even finished the course.

However the attempt to join the rangers had not been a complete waste of time and effort. A month away from Woodside had given her the space to regain her self-control, sufficient to face down Cy and her mother, and maybe even Allison. Also the post that morning had contained a letter from the regional militia HQ. In nearly so many words it had promised her a lieutenancy within the year if she stayed in the militia. It was nice to think that someone didn’t want to let go of her.

The room Katryn was shown into was furnished with a single large desk and was clearly someone’s office rather than a general admin room. That the woman sitting behind the desk was wearing a major’s badge was also cause for surprise. Katryn had been expecting a far more junior officer for the routine interview..

The major treated Katryn to a long thoughtful stare before she started to speak. "So what are we going to do with you?" It was a rhetorical question.

"Ma’am?"

"Do you realise what an awkward decision you’ve given us?"

"With regard to…?" Katryn was confused.

"Your application for the rangers."

"I would have thought it was quite straight forward, ma’am," At Katryn’s words the major raised an eyebrow, her expression inviting Katryn to continue. "I failed on the timed run… I didn’t get back in time."

"Yes." The major gave a drawn out sigh, tapping the knuckle of her forefinger slowly against her chin, her eyes fixed on Katryn. Abruptly, she sat up straighter, her manner more decisive. "However we do have a degree of discretion in interpreting the results when unusual events occur – although I’ll admit that someone collapsing is not as rare as I’d like. We screen everyone to make sure they’re fit enough. Still accidents happen, or, like yesterday, errors of judgement. The woman was capable physically, but made the mistake of burning herself out in the first part of the run."

"I’d heard that everyone else in the team had been rejected… ma’am." Katryn blurted out.

"Yes, because you were a team, as was made quite clear at the start. You were not timed as individuals, it was the last person in who counted. But, as I said, things like this have happened before, and we don’t fail an entire team because of one member. We can make allowances for unfortunate events – except the rest of your team carried on as if nothing had happened. Since they didn’t let the incident affect their actions, they disqualified themselves from any special considerations as a result of it. Whereas you gave a remarkable performance. And the tests are more about character than fitness – we can rectify the latter by exercise, but we can do nothing with a woman who’ll abandon her comrades for personal gain."

Katryn felt her pulse kick, as the thought shot through her head, They’re going to accept me… or are they? The major’s attitude was not that of someone giving good news.

The major carried on talking. "The allowances that can be made aren’t formally specified, and they are at the discretion of the senior recruiting officer. What it boils down to is, it’s up to me whether you’re in or out. I’ll be quite blunt. If you were an eighteen-year-old, who’d applied to the rangers the day after she’d completed her probation, I’d accept you without a second thought. But you aren’t, and this gives me a problem on two grounds. Firstly your commitment to the rangers is in question. I have the impression you made your application to escape some unpleasantness back home, rather than as a positive choice." She settled back in her chair, her eyes boring into Katryn. "Do you have anything to say?"

Katryn felt a blush start to rise on her cheeks, but she could not deny the accusation. "My reasons for leaving the militia had nothing to do with any trouble relating to my work."

"I wasn’t suggesting they were." The look in the major’s eye hinted that she was fully aware of the truth.

"Also…" Katryn paused, hunting for words. "Just because a woman is eager to join the rangers doesn’t mean she’s doing it for the right reasons. In my experience a lot of young women apply because they’re bored in the militia and are expecting life in the rangers to be full of excitement and adventure."

"And you’re not?"

"I’m expecting it to be hard work."

A suspicion of a smile flicked at the corner of the major’s mouth. "A good answer." She took a deep breath. "My second concern is about the length of time you have left to serve. You’ve spent nearly nine years in the militia. By the time you finish your basic training you’ll have less than five left to go. We would like to see some return on the investment we make in training you."

"I’ve always intended to reenlist." Katryn said. In fact she had planned on completing both of the permitted seven-year extensions to active duty and following them with an administrative post, if she had reached a sufficiently senior rank by the time they expired.

"You might – but we can’t count on it." The major picked up a few sheets of paper from her desk and began to scan through them, although she was clearly already familiar with the content. "You have shown good general aptitude, and you scored very… no… you scored exceptionally high at archery – that’s always a good skill to have in a ranger."

The major turned her face to look out of the window, tapping the papers on the desk. Katryn allowed herself a faint grin as she remembered the expression on the face of the ranger assessing her marksmanship when she had produced one of the highest scores ever recorded for an applicant. Archery had been her favourite pastime since she was a child – she’d won the town competition a record six times in a row.

The waiting dragged out as the major mulled things over, but at last she turned back, her decision made. For the first time a true smile showed on her face. "Welcome to Fort Krowe, ranger."

**********

Katryn spent the next four months at Fort Krowe, going through the initial training programme for the rangers – wilderness crafts and weapon practise. It was four months of hell, exceeding her worst expectations of hard work. Most nights she stumbled into the bunk-house with the other trainees, too tired to see straight. She developed an intense, personal dislike for all of the drill-sergeants and devoted much of her spare energy to wishing something nasty would happen to them. However she knew she was having an easier time of it than many of her co-trainees.

The assessor who had written she had ‘good general aptitude’ had obviously known what she was talking about. Katryn was well towards the top of the group for everything except swordsmanship, which she more than compensated for with her skill at archery. It was predicted she would end up as a squadron’s sharpshooter.

It was shortly after midwinter’s day when Katryn completed her training and was issued with her kit. The senior drill-sergeant personally signed her papers and shook her hand, smiling; which stunned Katryn – for a second the woman had looked as if she might just possibly be human.

Back in the bunk-house Katryn laid the new uniform out on her bed. Instead of the plain green clothes of a trainee these had the grey piping of a full ranger, and the grey leather belt and jacket, designed to offer some protection without sacrificing manoeuvrability. There was a sword and trail knife, her own personal weapons rather than the general issue used for training. There was also the wide-brimmed grey hat.

Katryn lifted this last item up and examined it. Sewn inside the crown was a steel cap. Further reinforcement was in the brim to protect the face from slashing attacks. Katryn knew that in parts of Landfall the militia was also issued with helmets – but not somewhere safe, like Woodside. Her thoughts slid back. Supposing she had been wearing a helmet during the encounter with the drunk. She wouldn’t have been knocked out, wouldn’t have gone home early, wouldn’t have found Allison where she did. And would she have been any happier? Katryn shook her head. Ignorance had never been a real option. She was sure Cy had wanted the affair to come out and had probably pre-planned some big scene. Cy always had gone overboard on drama.

In her new uniform of green and grey Katryn reported to the main administration office for her posting. Woodside was on the boundary between the regions allocated to Central and Eastern Divisions. Katryn had been asked if she had any preference and had chosen Eastern out of a desire to get as far away from the drill-sergeants as possible.

The clerk in the office riffled through various papers, and eventually slid a form towards her. On top of this the clerk placed two arm-badges. The insignia was the empty green square of a private, and beneath it was designated the 12^th squadron.

Katryn picked up the embroidered cloth badges. She would sew them to her uniform that night. On the paper underneath were her orders.

 continued in chapter 10

Return to Main Page