“This is taking forever.” The man rubbed his thick red beard as he scowled at the crowd of fellow recruits in the courtyard. “Why can’t they hurry it up?”

 

“There are dozens of people here.” A blonde woman this time, her hair cut short. She wore ill-fitting leather armor, likely a hand-me-down from a male relative. Not that Trendil could judge – she still wore her wedding dress, a fact that had not gone unnoticed. Or unremarked upon.

 

The bearded man glared at the blonde woman. “I know that! I just think they should have their sorting process down better by this point. They’ve been recruiting for a year! Besides, a lot of these people shouldn’t even be here. Like you!” He turned and faced Trendil. “What are you supposed to be, some kind of princess? This isn’t the place to sign up to be a camp whore.”

 

Trendil paid him no heed but the blonde woman stiffened as if the words had been directed at her. The man sneered and took a step forward, apparently prepared to continue, but he was interrupted by the sound of the gate at the end of the courtyard rattling open.

 

“Finally!” He turned away, the conversation apparently removed from his memory, though not from the blonde woman’s, from the dagger-sharp glare she sent toward the back of his head.

 

A Stormcloak officer stepped out and yelled, “All right, everyone quiet down! We’re going to separate you all into squads of three. Each squad will get an assignment. Everyone who comes back from their assignment will become a Stormcloak! Pretty simple! Shout out and group up when I call your name! Parks!”

 

A man on the far side of the courtyard yelled out acknowledgement and the pairing up continued as Trendil bit a frustrated lip. She had expected to be given armor and supplies, to train with a group, not…whatever this was. Some sort of test, perhaps? The man had said, “whoever comes back” would be a Stormcloak. That implied they weren’t expecting some…

 

“Trendil!”

 

She raised a hand and yelled an inarticulate sound.

 

“Rell!”

 

Another man, this one near the front. They immediately looked toward each other as the officer shouted, “Koren!”

 

The bearded whiny man pumped a fist. “Yup!”

 

Trendil cursed in her head but kept her expression blank as Koren turned toward her. Much to her lack of surprise, he held no such composure.

 

“Ah, I got stuck with the whore. Well, that ought to make the trip enjoyable, at least.”

 

“Whore? What whore?” The other man, Rell, stepped around the blonde woman and came to a halt next to Koren and looked Trendil up and down. “Why are you dressed all fancy like that?”

 

“It’s my wedding dress. I got married four days ago.”

 

Rell frowned. “Congratulations. Then what are you doing…”

 

“My husband was killed by Imperials on our wedding day. That’s why I’m here.”

 

“Ah. I’m sor…”

 

“After she invited them to her bed,” Koren interjected. “Look, whore, we don’t care about your dead hubby or your life’s story. I’m here to slaughter some Imperials, not play homestead.”

 

Rell cast Koren a look that could best be described as aghast, but Trendil merely shrugged. “That is my goal as well.”

 

“Perhaps you didn’t hear me. I said I wanted to slaughter Imperials, not sleep with…”

 

“All right, you three. Here is your assignment.”

 

Trendil allowed herself a moment of gratification as Koren jumped at the unexpected voice. They turned at the same time to find the officer flipping through some notes. “Ah, perfect. Get up to Serpentstone island, kill an ice wraith, bring back its frozen heart. Simple!”

 

“Sir,” Rell began, “where…”
 

“Sir?! Do I look like a geezer to you?!”

 

Rell lifted a hand as his face turned red. “What? No, I…”

 

“Then don’t call me sir! When you get back – IF you get back, you can call me Bearmane. Until then, stop talking to me at all!”

 

“But…”

 

“MOVE IT, RECRUITS!!” Bearmane pointed toward the exit to the courtyard, his already-ruddy face glowing red.

 

Trendil turned without a word and began talking, followed a moment later by Koren. She could hear Rell still dissembling, “Yes, I…all right…” and shook her head.

 

Once out of the courtyard, Trendil stepped to the side away from the traffic of the city road and waited for the other two. Rell arrived last, still huffing under his breath.

 

“…nted to ask how to get to the island. No need to get all…”

 

Trendil shook her head at him. “It’s part of the test.”

 

“…angry and…what?” Rell snapped out of his reverie with a blink.

 

“The whore’s right.” Koren sneered at Rell. Or maybe that was just his normal look. Thinking upon it, Trendil had not yet noticed a different expression on the man’s face. “We have to figure out how to get there ourselves. This is just perfect – I’m stuck with an imbecile and a woman. Which amount to the same thing. I’m doomed from the start.”

 

“We’ll be fine.” Trendil shifted away from the wall and began to walk away.

 

“Where’re you going, whore?”

 

“To get some armor. Be at the front gate tomorrow morning at daybreak.”

 

“What? You can’t tell us what to do!”

 

Trendil ignored him, letting his voice fade into the general city hubbub as she wound her way toward the smithy. Ass he might be, but she was going to need him. Need them both, perhaps – ice wraiths were no mean foes. They would need to be focused when the time came.

 

And warm, her body shivered to remind her. Armor is nice and all, but they were going to the far north – they would need furs and tents and food and…

 

She let a long-held sigh escape. Her mother’s pearl necklace, her wedding band, the dress, of course – all of it would have to go, sold for the price of the gear needed for a pointless test.

 

Well, not pointless. She understood its purpose – separating the wheat from the chaff among wannabe recruits, many of whom were likely mere farmers who had never killed anything more dangerous than a wolf or a mudcrab, was not the worst idea she had heard. Some would die but many – and she suspected this was the real point – would give up and go home.

 

Well, home wasn’t an option for her, and therefore it wasn’t an option for her squad-mates. She would need their help when the time came. After that, they were on their own - in the game of chaff and wheat, the chaff just needed to last long enough for the wheat to survive.