"Zechariah is ruthless," Leah said, watching the old man put the young man through his paces.
Across the fire, Olorus laughed. "Not ruthless enough," he said.
Half an hour after it had begun, Justin's training had changed from an attack-and-defend session to an agility exercise.
"Left! Right! Back! Right! Left! Forward!" called Zechariah.
Justin, holding his sword in a defensive position, did his best to obey. He was panting and drenched in sweat. Blood ran from scrapes and minor wounds. Every so often, Zechariah lashed out without warning, prompting Justin to dodge or parry.
"No, not nearly ruthless enough," Olorus reiterated. "The boy is clumsy. He is slow and weak, and he has no stamina. Up to me, I would have him training in the regimen of the Hell Jays. Then he would know the meaning of the word work!"