*Andrew’s POV*

I scowled. “Dammit, Liza, will you please slow down? Don’t run ahead!”

After getting so much unexpected, presumptively good news, my spirits had lifted a little. Though I was still congested, I was feeling so much better than I had… and that was the problem. I most definitely did not want to be having that kind of problem when we made it to the Walls. Not in these damned pants!

Normally, I walked faster than Eliza. Seeing her uncle again must have put her on cloud nine. She was walking so quickly I could feel the burn in my damned calves!

Eliza stopped for a second so I could catch up to her. She smiled broadly at me, and I tried to focus on that being a sign of how happy she was, not how pretty she was when she did it. Her green eyes sparkling with energy, her full lips… Ugh. “Sorry, pumpkin!”

I groaned. “Again, with that pumpkin business? Andy is better than pumpkin! We’re on duty-“

Eliza snorted. “-You just called me ‘Liza…’ pumpkin.”

The sparkle of challenge in her eyes, given my cursed condition, seemed enticing. I forced myself to redirect my eyes to the path. “Just don’t do anything sexy until we get there. Actually, not until Watch is completely through. And definitely don’t walk in front of me.”

Eliza scoffed. “Sexy? Sexy?!? What the fuck?” She tossed her long, dark locks. She had such lovely hair when it was down…

I frowned, trying to picture moldy bread in my mind’s eye. “Give me a break, here. If I can’t concentrate, I’ll have to stop at the shelter on our way there. I can’t be walking around half-stacked in these pants.”

Eliza reached for my hand and grasped it in her rough, smaller one. How did she have such small hands, anyway, with a family of Henry’s proportions? Was her father an exceptionally tiny man?

My mind wandered, and I thought about how she was so dexterous with them, when she… Shit! I yanked my hand away, feeling my face heat up. “Gods, I can’t hold hands. Don’t even touch me!” Realizing I probably sounded like an asshole, I tried to soften my words. “Please?”

Luckily, Eliza took it the way it was intended. She punched me in the shoulder in a very machismo fashion. Just enough to be slightly uncomfortable. “Absolutely, Second Officer. No erections here, just a dutiful ward. Tell me, how have your bowels been treating you? Nice and regular?”

I chuckled despite myself and tried to walk faster. My lungs were still bothering me, but I was eager to get the Night over with. I only had to make it a few hours yet until Dawn.

---

Blasko had been tickled pink to hear that the gigantic warrior that had come into the Village was, apparently, truly benign after all. He had asked Eliza if she thought her uncle would be willing to come train with her, to keep her on her toes. That idea nauseated me so greatly, I’d almost lost my lunch. After being vomit-free for over a Night, I didn’t want to resume the trend.

My esteemed First Officer had looked me over and told me I wasn’t in good enough shape to do much of anything. So, making things even more nerve-wracking, he’d sent for Pete, to come train with Eliza. Thus, I found myself sitting on a bench, waiting to watch my woman engage in combat, again, with Big Pete. Eliza was barely over her own illness! I fiddled with Little Johnny Rickfield’s pommel, even more anxious for Dawn than I had been earlier.

I was thoroughly unenthusiastic when Blasko made his theatrical revelation of a new set of wooden training weapons that he’d ordered just for Pete and Eliza. Oh joy. In comparison, Eliza was delighted, and remarked that her uncle would love them too. Yay, even better.

While Blasko was telling Pete and Eliza that they could choose their preferred weapon, and I was practically pulling out my hair, Ronnie unexpectedly joined me on the bench. I turned to tell him that I was miserable, sick, about to watch helplessly as my beloved was set upon by the strongest man I’d ever seen, and that I unequivocally did not want to talk, when he shoved something in my chest.

A… a flask? Ronnie raised an eyebrow, but I still hesitated. He rolled his eyes. “Moonshine. You looked like you needed it.”

After a moment’s hesitation, I took the flask and had a quick pull. Fuck, nasty! I handed it back. “Thanks Ronnie.” He nodded silently before putting the flask away, and we both turned to watch.

This was less formal then Eliza’s first Night on Watch, so it appeared Blasko was disposing of the stupid, red hankie and getting out the staff. If two Watchmen didn’t let off as soon as he yelled at them to stop, he would just run up and smack at both of them. Great.

Eliza had a wooden axe that had almost no beard and a slightly upward-tilting head on a long haft. Pete had a wooden sword that would be two-handed in most any other Fae’s hands. While they had shields, I didn’t like the whole thing one bit.

Wooden or not, they could easily kill one another with those things. Besides, I felt Eliza was at a disadvantage. She was sick, and the whole point of an axe was to make fast, deep wounds, most often on appendages. So what in the nine hells’ good was a wooden axe right then?

I watched as they shook, and I started jogging my leg nervously. They stepped back a few paces each, and Pete made a mistake, holding his sword up in a blocking position before they’d even started. Not sure if Blasko wanted me to coach, or just watch, as this pairing was hardly par for the course, I said nothing. After that, everything was over in only a minute or two, but it seemed much longer.

Eliza was a smart girl, and swung with incredible force, catching Pete’s sword with the heel of her axe. Pete recovered quickly, however, using the momentum to whip his sword around for an underswing. He was just a moment too slow for Eliza, who blocked him with her haft. Pete’s wooden blade scraped down the belly of the axe and against her shield.

She shoved her shield forward, trying to set Pete off balance, but he had a good stance, and was swayed very little by the impact. Eliza backed away and went for him again, aiming for a leg. Pete dodged and swung quickly as he turned, trying to get behind her shield. While he succeeded, he over-reached, and ended up striking her in the chest with his pommel when she caught his arm with hers.

Apparently, it had hurt, as Eliza’s eyes instantly blackened. This time, when she shoved Pete, he lost his balance and ended up in a bloody backwards somersault! I was horrified when Eliza actually went to strike poor Pete’s asshole, but he rolled too quickly for her and she just thumped against his shield.

From his crouching position, he thrust out for Eliza’s leg with a jab, but she blocked his sword with her shield, using it to lever downwards as she dropped to her knees, trying unsuccessfully to force the weapon out of his hand. At the same time, she lifted her axe to strike, but Pete lunged at her with his shield first, benefiting from his longer reach.

Eliza fell over, but she managed to drag Pete’s shield with her when her blow landed askew, the shield caught at the axe’s shoulder. Pete scrambled towards her, raising his sword a little higher than needed to swing. Eliza used the opening and shot a foot out nailing him in the privates! Damn!

Just like that, the round was won, as Pete made the highest-pitched noise I’d ever heard him make, dropped his sword to grab his nethers, and fell to his side. Eliza didn’t seem to realize it, however, as she clambered to her knees and lifted her shield to strike Pete-

“Stop! Stop, stop!” Blasko ran towards them and thumped Eliza with the staff on her back. She turned, grimacing, before seeing Blasko and gradually decompressing into an open-mouthed, panting smile.

Ronnie and I exchanged a glance. Clearly he agreed with me: kicking a man in the junk just wasn’t done. Maybe in a life or death match for the fate of the Forest, but even then was questionable. Eliza seemed to be demonstrating a tendency towards a horrifyingly efficacious battle tactic…

Blasko was standing next to Pete, and I could hear the poor man’s deep voice clearly. “Ugh… Need a minute.” Blasko bent down a bit to pat Pete on the shoulder, before turning to Eliza. Worried she would be in trouble for striking a fellow Watchman in the johnson yet again, I rose to defend her.

The First Officer nodded, not saying anything for a moment. I saw Eliza’s smile falter a bit and I patted her on the back, making an effort not to look too tender or romantic. Maybe that was where Blasko got the whole paternal shoulder-pat thing? It demonstrated reassurance without being emasculating.

He started chuckling as he stroked his beard. “Shit, you fight like a street rat, and I mean that as a compliment! Where the fuck did you learn that? You always go for the family jewels?”

Eliza shrugged, still unsure if she had done something wrong. “I’m a woman, First Officer.”

Blasko chortled a little harder. “Yes, indeed. And you’ve successfully brought something to my attention. Seems that, at the very least, the men of the Watch are in need of codpieces, to protect their weakest point.”

Eliza smiled. “Though the opportunity doesn’t always present itself, it would be foolish not to strike either gender in their, er, business. In my experience, male fighters especially never think to exploit that. You only really need to worry when women are on the enemy side.”

Blasko tilted his head, and I knew the leap he was making. I grinned, amused. “You want to start teaching our Watchmen to exploit the unprotected groins of the enemy?”

Blasko nodded. “Eliza is right. The area is painful when hit, and any wound made there is a bloody one. Right next to the abdomen, which will also generally end a fight.” He stroked his beard for a moment as he thought. “Would you two go see Wednesday, tell him to get the Initiates to start working on blows to the crotch?”

Inwardly, I groaned so heavily my brain hurt. Now, because of my positively vicious, yet effective, woman, the Night Watch was going to start teaching its Watchmen to aim for the gonads of their opponents? Many an Initiate would be on the receiving end of blows to their nethers because of this! “Absolutely.”

I motioned to Eliza to follow me and walked towards the training weapons rack. She put the oversized, wooden axe away and added her shield to the stack. When she turned, she looked worried. “Andrew, did I do something wrong?”

I ran a hand through my hair as I contemplated how to answer. “No. You just exposed a major flaw in the fighting technique we practice, and a willfully blind one. Though that’s good, it’s also sent the First Officer on one of his kicks. So, for a few weeks, I wager every Initiate is going to be working on crotch warfare. And Doyle’s going to spit nails when he has to deal with the financial aspect of procuring codpieces for every male Watchman.” I hesitated. “I also think we’re all going to look bloody ridiculous, wearing special shields to protect our personals…” I trailed off as I started thinking how I was going to explain this to Wednesday, exactly.

---

I took a deep breath. “The First Officer wants the Initiates to focus on training regarding exploitation and defense of the genitalia as a weak point.”

The hairless ridges where your average Fae had eyebrows popped skywards on Wednesday’s normally fairly taciturn face. He blinked. A moment passed.

He came closer and gripped my shoulder. “Andrew. Blask wants me to focus on cock and balls?”

Wednesday wasn’t smiling, so I suppressed the inappropriate urge to laugh. I nodded. “Yes. The groin.”

He looked off into nothingness as his mouth hung open, slowly forming into a enormous smile. He started to quietly wheeze with suppressed hysterical laughter, which made it a lot harder to keep a straight face. “Cock!” He whispered to himself, “and balls!”

Abruptly, he startled me by whirling around and hooting wildly with a mad cackle. “All of you! Put your shit away, you have thirty seconds!”

He crossed his arms and grinned smugly, doubtlessly counting. By my count of twenty-five, all of the Initiates were in rough lines, unarmed, and squirming a bit under his gaze. I felt more than a little empathy for them. I remembered what that had been like all too well.

Wednesday pointed vaguely in the direction that Eliza and I had come from. “The First Officer has begun a new training regimen!” I saw many looks of mild terror, but no one let out a peep. I was too perversely enthralled regarding what would possibly happen to leave. Wednesday was the trainer of the Initiates for good reason; he had a wicked sort of genius.

He whipped off the hat he was wearing and rolled it across his arms, like some sort of mummer. “Divide into five groups, kiddies!”

Silently, the Initiates quickly shifted their lines into five groupings. “Now! I want each of you to try and take out everyone else in your group by blows to the nards exclusively! Last one standing in each group does no calisthenics for two Nights!”

The Initiates didn’t move immediately, and he fumed. “Now, now, start now!” And, in a frantic explosion of activity, five desperate brawls broke out in front of us. Wednesday nodded approvingly, grinning to himself.

Notes

please note that any comments or other support would be welcome. i don't get a lot of it, especially from people that aren't personal friends.

as a reminder, i have made a character guidebook, to help keep track of the many people in the story. it's not finished yet, but it's got quite a few of them so far. there are interesting little tidbits about many of the characters that you wouldn't necessarily know otherwise.

you can find it by clicking here.

---

Hillary Clinton won the popular vote. i advise all of you to sign the petition below, asking the electoral college to change their votes to reflect democracy and the will of the people:

Electoral College: Make Hillary Clinton President on December 19, 2016

---

and, as my arch-rival has drawn to my attention:

The FBI determined some months ago that hacking, originating from Russia, was having an influence on our electoral process. These hackers interfered with our presidential election through attempted and successful penetration of email and voter registration databases, among other systems. This created fear, uncertainty, and doubt about the safety of our electoral processes.

Computers tabulated the vast majority of the 129 million votes cast in the presidential election, and polls were wildly off. Did hackers manipulate the results by compromising voting equipment? Did other problems, glitches, or errors affect the outcome?

There's a simple, relatively inexpensive way to find out: audit the electronic results against the paper ballots used by about 75% of U.S. voters.

American democracy depends on public trust of our electoral process, and public trust requires a trustworthy process.

Please sign to demand that election officials double-check the electronic results by conducting a "risk-limiting" audit of the presidential election in every state that uses paper ballots.

Demand An Audit Of The 2016 Presidential Election