Monkey Wars by Richard Kurti Read Free Book Online Page B

about basic training, however tough or strong you think you are, forget it!”
    Mico glanced along the line of new cadets. There were big ones from military families who just knew they were going to breeze through training, and aggressive ones with too much attitude and too little brain. Mico, sick with nerves, was convinced he was going to fail miserably because he was so small.
    But the drill instructor’s voice rang out again. “Today, you are all equal. Yes, sir. Equal,” Gu-Nah mused. “By the time training is done, some of you will be better warriors than others.” He paced along the line of new cadets. “Some will become footsoldiers. The really good ones will end up in the elites. All of you will be more than you are today. Much more. I will make monkeys of you. That’s my promise. But you’re going to have to work for it. Yes, sir. Day and night. Follow orders, face your fears, work until you drop. You do that for me and I won’t let you down. Every cadet has a chance to prove himself.” His eyes rested on Mico and he lowered his voice as if for that moment Gu-Nah was speaking just to him. “Everyone.”
    The instructor stood up and strode back down the line. “What would hurt more? This?” he picked up a melon that was lying on the floor. “Or this?” Gu-Nah opened his palm to reveal a small chickpea. One of the bigger cadets, Mudpaw, sniggered at the question.
    “Easy, eh?” smiled Gu-Nah. Then suddenly he hurled the melon at Mudpaw, who instinctively dodged, letting it splatter against the wall.
    “Good reactions,” said Gu-Nah, eliciting a proud smile. Then without warning he flicked the chickpea hard at Mudpaw, stinging him painfully in the face.
    “OWW!” howled the big cadet.
    Gu-Nah smiled. “Just not good enough.”
    The instructor pointed dramatically to the cemetery gates. “The dangers out there aren’t always obvious. The rock python can crush, but the baby cobra can poison. There are many different types of strength. I believe what makes the langur a great fighting force is not just the size of our muscles, but the fact that every monkey can contribute to the fight. No exceptions.”
    For Mico, it was an alluring promise; he longed to take his place in langur life, to understand what it really meant to be one of the “chosen,” and make sense of all the mysteries and deceptions that had worried him these past moons. Above all, he wanted to understand why you needed to kill to keep the peace.
    Hoping that all his doubts and questions would finally be resolved, Mico threw himself into cadet training with a vengeance.
    —
    Building stamina and strength were top priorities, so gruelling physical exercises started the moment the cadets woke up; lifting piles of watermelons, endless swinging through the tree canopy and relentess pull-ups became a way of life. Interspersed with these sessions were exercises in speed and agility, where the cadets had to scamper around the narrow perimeter wall. At first they moved slowly, fearful of the drop, but day by day, spurred on by Gu-Nah’s barrage of instructions, their speed improved.
    In the heat of the day the cadets often ventured out of the cemetery and clambered into the branches of a large mahogany tree. Here, with a panoramic view across the city, instructors would teach them about the weather, how to read clouds and predict storms.
    Even when darkness came the cadets couldn’t bank on having a quiet night, as Gu-Nah liked to organize “stealth exercises.” The cadets would be sent to the farthest corners of the cemetery to hunt for objects that had been hidden among the tombs, while being stalked by their instructors. The idea was to train the cadets to keep a steady nerve no matter what.
    Mico liked the throwing lessons best of all. They learned the art of the long throw—solid stance, arm pulled back, balancing arm out front, lock the target with your eyes, then let the power uncoil. To practice, the cadets would spend whole