Chapter 150: The Grind - Part 2
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ELIA
Reth had been right. Within forty breaths she'd mostly stopped feeling like she might faint from lack of oxygen. But then he offered her a hand to get to her feet and when she grasped it and let him tug her up, her muscles felt like jelly.
Then he nodded to the tree about eighty feet away at the other end of the clearing—up the rise. "You'll run a circle around that tree, then this stump twenty times, then wait for more orders."
Her mouth dropped open. Run? She could barely stand! But at the look on his face, she gulped and turned, tried to job up the incline, to the tree, then back down to the stump.
She'd thought running down the incline—which wasn't steep—would be much easier, but found herself fighting on every level. On the way up, her knees wanted to give way at the pressure needed to push herself up the rise. On the way back, she stumbled every time she braced against the decline.
She fell more than once. And Reth said nothing. Just counted her circles. And when she was done, he taught her how to hold her hands and body in a sparring stance, then how to punch correctly. "Fifty jabs, then fifty thrusts," he said.
Elia nodded, determined and began, counting with each punch.
"For each arm," he added. Elia almost cried. But she knew this was the test. He had told her he would push her to her limit. And apparently, he hadn't been exaggerating.
When she was up to thirty thrusts on her right arm, she was becoming lightheaded. "What happens… if I… pass out?" she panted.
"I'll make sure you're safe, and then we'll continue," he said flatly. "And if you pass out twice, we start over."
Elia blinked. Reth held her gaze, but there was no warmth in his eyes, only piercing challenge. Gone was her protective, thoughtful husband. She stood in front of a warrior who had no time for emotion or weakness. She had come to train, and train she would.
"Well, I better not... pass out… huh?" she huffed.
He nodded, but he still didn't smile.
And so it went…
Elia tried not to panic thinking about all the other things she had yet to do that day. As the training continued, she began to reshuffle the plans in her mind that she'd had, to clear them of anything that required lifting or carrying heavy things. But then Reth said something about coming back to a certain technique the next day, and her heart sank.
Every day, he'd said, without fail.
And she'd cornered him on it—saying if he didn't give her time every day, she'd go back to training behind the rock.
What had she been thinking?!
Dawn broke behind the WildWood and Elia wondered if she's ever seen anything more beautiful. Reth was in the middle of explaining a specific hold when the sky was suddenly blazing with deep pinks and oranges, and her mouth dropped open.
But she only had seconds to gape before the world suddenly flipped, and she lost her breath as her back hit the ground in a mighty thump, and her husband leaned over her, snarling, "Never let attention be drawn away from those nearby—you cannot know when an enemy will strike!" he hissed through his teeth.
For a flash she saw the side of him that she'd rarely seen—the beast. The warrior. The brutal killer. She blinked and tried to suck a breath into her aching lungs, but his hand was planted in the middle of her chest, and his eyes were alight with anger and… was it fear?
"I'm sorry, Reth," she croaked. "I'll do better."
He snorted air out of his nostrils, but nodded once and straightened, then offered her a hand to get up, again.
She didn't let herself get distracted again for the full two hours he had her working her body in different ways—until her arms became so tired she couldn't hold them level with her shoulders anymore.
"Your greatest opponent is always in here," he said, tapping his temple. As she jumped up and down on the spot, swinging her arms all the way out, then over her head, then back down in time with her jumps. "If you can beat the enemy in your mind—the one that tells you you cannot do this, or that your opponent is too strong, or that the circumstances will not suit you—you will never defeat a strong enemy in front of you."
"Yes, Reth," she panted.
"Sir."
"What?"
"When we train, I am not your husband. I am not the man who loves you. And I am not the King. I am your Captain, and you will call me Sir."
"Yes s-sir," she said, shakily. But her stomach dropped and she began to feel fragile in a way she hadn't a moment before.
Why did that bother her so much? As she continued to jump, she analyzed herself. His impersonal attitude bothered her because Reth—her husband—made her feel safe. And if he was removing his own emotional commitment to her … could she still trust him?
As if he heard her thoughts, he went on. "You will learn to take orders. You will learn to trust those in command over you—to do the part you are given, and no other. And you'll learn the value, the added strength, that comes from like minds. Your job is to listen, and to do. Mine is to measure the obstacle ahead of you and make certain you know how to tackle it. Do you understand?"
"Yes… sir." Though she sincerely wondered whether she would make it.
Then, just when she thought the time must be up, he ordered her down on the grass for twenty push ups.
And she tried. She really did. But her arms had no strength. She pushed and shoved and breathed through her teeth in the way he told her, but she wasn't able to lift herself from the grass.
Then, when she was back on her feet, and wavering, he finally relaxed, and suddenly her husband was back, his eyes alight with love and appreciation.
He took her sweaty face in his hands and kissed her and said, "Now for a soak in the mineral pools. I gather you will be very sore tomorrow."
She was already aching, but she was also too tired to speak. So she just nodded and let him carry her back down the ladder, help her take off her clothes at the base, then lifted her in his arms and carried her to sink her into the warm pool until she groaned.
"You think this is bad," he chuckled into her hair. "Wait until tomorrow when we add kicks."
She groaned again.
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