The Keshenne Ranger 1: The Legion

Chapter 4

Munira flipped the blade, felt its weight, its balance, a firm hilt. "Quality blade. It's good work," she said, handing it back to the smith. "How fast can you make them?"

"With help from these ladies, we can churn out six or seven a day," the smithy said, gesturing to the assembly line of women who polished blades, affixed hilts, and spun sharpening wheels. He dipped a glowing red piece of metal into the water, inspected it, and handed it to his helpers for the finishing touches.

"Thank you, Gavin, for showing us your work," Lirelle said. "Everyone pitches in here. The women can train to fight if they show some talent for it. The rest help in other ways, but everyone pulls their weight."

Lirelle moved to another table where women, and some older men, worked with hardened leather plates. "Recognize this?" Lirelle held up a plate, pointing to the thin metal wire pressed into the underside of the leather. A Keshenne cuirass, like the one she and all Rangers wore, had metal wire pressed between boiled leather. This made it resistant to slashes and arrow heads. Stabbing remained a danger as a thin blade might slip between the wire, but it was a major improvement over other methods, and a state secret.

"You're showing them how to make wired leather?"

"Relax, a Keshenne leather worker handles the crucial steps. Our secrets are safe. It's labor intensive and we only have enough for a few of our best recruits. Eventually, we hope to equip the entire Legion with them."

"How long have you been at this?"

"We started the camp about six months ago. Come on, let me show you something else." Munira expected Lirelle to lead her by the arm like a child showing off her bedroom. She ran off, waving for her to follow. It was an odd sight, seeing Lirelle care so much for something. "Nurian, send those new boys to me, please." Nurian, a Keshenne, pointed to a group of teen boys who broke away from their sparring match and approached.

"All your officers are Keshenne, I notice."

"Well, of course, this is our operation. We're funding it, supplying the expertise, and the leadership." As the boys came nearer, Munira recognized them from the previous day. The teens stood at attention, each giving the Keshenne salute. They still bore the bruises from the thrashing she gave them. "Look, boys, I found the madman you spoke of. Sure, she's not as pretty as me, but a man, that's a stretch. Don't you think?"

The leader of the group, the oldest whose nose she broke, spoke in a nasally tone. "Um, sorry about all that." He lowered his head, fingers knitting. "We were confused, but The Legion is helping us find a better way to live."

Munira nodded. "I except your apology and hope you do as you say."

"Show her what you've learned already. Recite the Ranger's oath," Lirelle said.

"No, that's alright they don't—"

It was too late. In unison, the boys saluted and began the oath. "I swear to uphold the principles of justice, with unwavering loyalty to my comrades, and extending charity to those in need. With unyielding strength, I shall defend our mission and protect the values we hold dear."

"Very good. You may return to your training," Lirelle said. "See the good we can do. You stopped those boys from robbing a single elderly couple, but we will turn them into soldiers with a purpose."

A scream drew their attention. A horse without a rider bolted, dragging a man through the grass, ankle tangled in the reins. Three people gave chase on foot, but the horse left them far behind. "I'll get him," Munira said, already sprinting to the nearest mount.

She kicked the horse into motion, and it responded like the trained war horse it was, getting quickly to speed. The other horse ran in a panicked uncertain pattern, hampered by the man dragging, allowing her to gain distance. She slung her bow from shoulder to hand and stood in the stirrups. Wrapping the reins around the saddle horn and guiding the horse with her legs, she knocked an arrow.