Hilo clapped the other man on the shoulder. Sunto wore too little green to equal Hilo or any of his first-rank Green Bones in a straight matchup of jade abilities. His proficiency with Lightness and Deflection—the two disciplines that required the greatest expulsion of jade energy—was below average. They were not emphasized in the Espenian military, as they broke unit formation and were of little use at long range against automatic weapons. But Sunto was fast and effective and practical, and he knew certain techniques that were not taught in the Academy curriculum or by any other private trainers as far as Hilo was aware of. Some of them were not of much use to Green Bones. Hilo doubted his Fists needed to know how to use ground-sweeping Deflection to set off pressure-sensitive or trip-wire bombs from a distance. Others were more valuable. At the Pillar’s request, Sunto had taught a series of classes to the high-ranking Fists, as well as all the Green Bones in the Kaul family, on how to Steel to protect oneself against an improvised explosive device. Years after the tragedy, Hilo was still haunted by Kehn’s death, the impersonal, dishonorable suddenness of it. If Sunto’s methods had something to offer that might protect his family and other members of the clan from a car bombing, he would study them.
Hilo handed the gun to Lott while Sunto gave the knife to Vin, so they could take a turn. He watched his Fists spar until everyone had had a chance to practice. Observing those in their twenties, like Suyo and Toyi, made it clear to Hilo that he was no longer young. His jade abilities were as formidable as ever. His strength and stamina equaled that of much younger fighters, and experience was a powerful advantage he was glad to possess. But a life spent fighting took its toll. Since turning forty, Hilo had noticed small things: He was not as fast as he used to be, it took him longer to recover from minor injuries, and older, more serious ones that had not bothered him for years reminded him of past mistakes.
The sun was rising over the city, burning away the autumn chill. Hilo called an end to the training session. Sunto came up to him. “You mind if we talk for a minute?”
A couple of nearby Fists looked askance at the man for taking such a blunt and familiar tone with the Pillar, but Hilo was not offended. That was Sunto’s natural way of speaking. In front of his own men, however, Hilo forced the soldier to be patient. “I have a few things to discuss with the Horn. They won’t take long, then we can talk.”
After he’d spoken with Juen, and the rest of the Green Bones had dispersed to attend to their own responsibilities, Hilo sat down with Sunto at the patio table. He propped his feet up on the seat of an empty chair. “How did General Ronu’s report to the Royal Council go?”
“Well enough that they increased funding to the training program,” Sunto said. “The chancellor commended us on how much progress we’ve made in seven years.”
With the hired guidance of Sunto and other international experts, the Kekonese military had established the Special Warfare Command to oversee all special operations forces, most notably the Golden Spider Company—the army’s growing cohort of jade-equipped soldiers, who had their own specialized training and participated in exercises with ROE Navy Angels. The Kekonese military was still tiny in comparison to most other countries, but now that it was seen as a further safeguard against possible Ygutanian aggression, the Espenians were highly supportive of its growth, other disagreements between the two countries notwithstanding.
“I hear enlistment went up after the requirements were changed,” Hilo said. “Master Aido said he’s had dozens of calls from new students. Even Grandmaster Le is thinking about using one of the Academy’s training fields to run an evening or weekend program if enough instructors are willing to do it.” He lit a cigarette. “I’m impressed, Sunto. You’ve actually made people want to join the army.”
In the past, only recruits who graduated from a martial school and had at least one year of experience as a clan Finger could enlist with their jade, but Sunto had successfully argued that was unnecessary, even counterproductive. “If we’re limited only to Fingers who leave the clan, we’ll barely fill a room each year,” he’d pointed out. All that was required now was a medical certificate attesting to sufficient jade tolerance and basic proficiency in the six jade disciplines—roughly the equivalent of a year-four education at the Academy. That one change opened the doors to those trained through after-school programs and private instructors.
The patio door slid open and the new housekeeper, Sulima, brought out tea, pastries, and sliced fruit for them. Sunto accepted a cup of tea, but didn’t eat. “General Ronu could get even more recruits if we started accepting adults without prior jade training.”