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anyone.” 
    Manebrow could see that his arguments were gaining
ground with the young female, though emotion echoed loudly still behind her
large eyes.  After giving Kiria a few moments to attempt to master her
emotions, he continued.  “Though I do not relish sending the other six back to
their warrior groups to be servants to their betters, I know that if I do not
hold the group to a high standard that it will only serve to weaken the gen,
not strengthen it, and I will not tolerate that.” 
    Manebrow knew all too well that holding to a
standard meant that some would not live up to that standard, a concept that
many disagreed with, including some of their gen’s council members and
apparently his lord’s daughter, though as he watched Kiria seemed to
reluctantly accept his reasoning, if only just.
    “Well, my lady, this area is where we will conduct
the melee weapons trial,” he said as the two of them arrived at the empty
sawdust circle next to the tall wooden stands.  “And on this stand, of course,
is where the trainers will stand.”
    “Are there not supposed to be racks with wooden
weapons here for the trials?” Kiria asked.
    “Yes, quite right.  I’m sure they’ll be brought
out before the trials start in two mornings’ time,” Manebrow answered.  He
could see that she was bored with this part of the tour and they quickly moved
on to the area of the arena where the ranged weapons targets and weapons
barrels were set up.
    As they walked, Manebrow sighed with the relief of
knowing this year’s training cycle was complete, even though in the back of his
mind he knew full well that the next group of yearlings were already being
prepared to enter their year of training, and a much larger group at that, for
the year after the drought and famine had brought a baby boom.  Soon, Manebrow
would be deep in training again, training with weapons, climbing, working with riding
wolves and pack dogs, survival, and the tactics that their gen employed in
battle.
    This last skill, that of tactics, was the most
intense part of their year, and the part that wore Manebrow down ever more as
each year took its toll on his body.  Despite the physical cost, he refused to
drop his high standards and reduce the intensity of the training.  As such, for
weeks he trained and drilled each yearling group in the art of forming a shield
wall, ambushing, scouting, fighting in formation, and infiltration.  Then,
climbing down the massive cliff called Sheerface into the dark caverns far
below their gen’s home, the future warriors spent their last two moons leading
each other as Manebrow stepped back and let them learn.
    After weeks of going days at a time with little or
no sleep, constantly conducting raids and ambushes, assaults and defensive
actions, the yearling group then concluded the fevered pace of their training
with a climb up Sheerface into their gen’s home caverns.  Upon returning to the
gen, the yearlings were pronounced ready for the Trials of Caste, and Manebrow
got a few days of well-deserved rest.
    The mismatched pair reached the large weapons rack
that held the bows, quivers, and javelins for the ranged weapons trial.  Grabbing
a javelin, Manebrow offered it to the young female.  By the look in her eye, he
thought perhaps she would accept a challenge.
    “What?  Me throw that?” she complained.  After a
moment of looking into his unwavering gaze, Kiria took the javelin and with a
huff turned to face the large bags that served as targets spaced evenly for
some distance in front of the weapons rack.  Screwing up her courage and hoping
she wouldn’t look like too much of a fool, Kiria threw at the closest target. 
The javelin wobbled through the air for several paces, then landed in the dirt,
skittering then rolling sideways to a stop many paces in front of the closest
of the targets.
    “Not bad,” Manebrow said offhandedly.
    Kiria scowled.  “Whatever happened to all that
talk of standards?” she