Lorcan ran up the trail from the pond to the barracks, eager to see his new wife. It had been horrible being away from her for the whole day after spending every single minute with her for the week and some before that. And since they were in training asking about her day wasn’t even ‘personal’.
But, of course, when he got there she wasn’t there. None of the women were, except for a couple of the female instructors, sitting, no doubt with their husbands, at the long tables. The sun had set a few minutes ago and there were two long tables, sturdy wood, with lanterns hanging from poles all around them.
Lorcan, along with most of the lads, stood and waited for his wife. Soon he saw the lasses, coming from the trail down the side of the cliff, running… not in formation, just in the line that the trail would have forced upon them. He had a while to wait for his wife, she was in the middle of the pack, talking with two other lasses, altho the other lasses seemed to be doing most of the talking.
“Good evening to thee, wife,” he said, embrassing her and kissing her. “Good evening to thee, husband,” she said when they broke up and, as was her duty, she led him over to the table, where they found two seats about midway down. He noticed she had a pistol strapped to her waist; she must have past her initial pistol trials.
“Did you have a pleasant day?” he asked her, and she scoffed, reaching for a large, heavy, metal pot in front of her and quickly putting a couple of ladels full in the bowl in front of her and scooting it toward him. He was encouraged to take his rather quickly by the look the lass next to him was giving him.
“Bread!” his wife said to the lass next to her, who reached forward and grabbed a plate just down the table past her. His wife took two large pieces and handed the plate to him.
“Stand for prayer!” he heard and, along with the rest of the table, hurridely stood.
“Our Loving Eternal Father,” he heard, and looked to see an older man standing at the end of the table, his arms raised. “We thank thee and praise thee…”
The prayer finished he sat back down and again had the lass next to him glaring at him and quickly took a piece of bread and passed her the plate.
He turned back to his wife to make a comment and was appalled to see her using her bread to scoop a very large portion of stew into her mouth. He then looked around and saw similar behavior being repeated by many of the other trainees. And felt a nudge on his thigh. A poke, almost.
He turned to see his wife, who had straightned up and was now using her bread to take what he considered a normal sized portion. Before she picked it up she leaned over, “Don’t stare so. Pardon me for my manners, but I am exceedingly hungry and so reverted to type. It is our way. When we have food, and we don’t usually have much time.”
He bent to his plate and ate for a few bites, then tried, “Did you have a good day?”
She finished her bite. “Mixed. I almost drowned several times in that cursed pond, but then was picked as instructor in the pistols.”
He stared at her, “How could you drown in this pond?” he asked. “It is… just a pond.”
“So I’m told,” she said. “But having never learned to swim it seemed very possible.”
“You cannot swim?”
“Thou must now say I could not swim. I can now avoid drowning for whole yards together. I take it thou canst swim?”
He nodded, “I was made an instructor there. Not that many lads needed instructing.”
She nodded, “Even in our area our lads generally managed to learn, even if it meant a hike out of town. But we lasses were kept too busy, and we had no money to spare for pool learning.”
He ate on, wondering what it would be like to now know how to swim. He couldn’t even remember a time when he didn’t know how to swim. In his family your mother and sisters would take you to the local pool as a baby.
Then he remembered something else she had said, “You are an instructor in pistols?”
She nodded, her mouth rather full.
“Well, as you say, turnabout is fair game. I cannot shoot.”
Her eyes widened. “I wore a pistol, of course, but other than basic safety I never had training in arms. There was no need in our area. I’m afraid I’m going to need a lot of practice before we go on to our job.”
“What job doest thou desire?” he heard from across the table. A lad, taller and heavier than himself.
“Far colonist,” he answered.
“Never heard of it,” the lad admitted, while the lads wife wife frankly stared at him. “I want to be first in drop scout.”
“All honor to thee,” Lorcan replied, inwardly blanching at the very idea of being dropped from a troop ship or drop carrier into a completely unconquered world.
“Where didst thou learn to shoot so?” The first drops wife asked his wife. “Thou wert made an instructor from the first.”
Lorcan’s wife laughed. “We carried money, and we had an uncle that had a shooting gallery. Many a long hour I spent of an evening shooting. The less we got robbed the more that we got paid… and the more everyone knew we could shoot, the less we got robbed.”
“Didst thou ever kill someone?”
“Nay, I was known as far too good a shot. I only drew the pistol once, and that one had not money on his mind, an I being alone and not even carrying any.”
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Von