The men and women remained separate and Ravishan was invited in to observe before he joined the practice himself. Both groups were winnowed down to the best fighters in the Warren. One hundred and sixty men clustered into the training hall with John. The heat of their bodies radiated through the chamber. The strong smell of sweat saturated the still air. A short, muscular man scowled at John and two other men from the Smiths District glared at him. But most of the men were strangers to him. Some of them, particularly those from the Stable District, returned John’s curious glances. One young man with pale green eyes signed a quick greeting to John. John returned the gesture but couldn’t immediately remember the young man’s name. Then it came to him—Fenn. They’d met the first day John had arrived. Before John could strike up more of a conversation, Arren signaled them to attention. Men from the Smiths District dragged in wooden crates of firearms.
