Wilson stepped out of the orphanage along with Greg and several others who were considered older boys. They were led by Priest Damon for the purpose of outdoor activities. This was part of a larger education and apprenticeship effort. If the children of the orphanage found what they liked quickly then Once they were the right age for an apprenticeship or work then they could be sponsored and start to live outside of the orphanage allowing the church to no longer sponsor the child.
“By now you should be intimately familiar with how our training regimen works. Or at least most of you should,” said Priest Damon. “I hope you can perform well today despite how badly you might curse it. For today we have the pleasure of joining the military for the day. You will join the other new recruits and experience what it is like being part of a military squad. Even if you don’t join up with them at sixteen this training is vital to understand in the unlikely case that a militia is needed, and you are called upon. For those who have experienced this before, I hope you can impress upon those younger the importance of completing this training and its use.”
“So, this is Military Day,” said Wilson to the other boys.
At twelve he and Greg we now considered old enough to start learning on the military days. They happened infrequently throughout the year when some of the military squads visited the city. At eleven Brad had been left behind.
“The rumors were true then. Do you think we will have to do everything they said?” asked Greg.
“Knowing the priest and the older boys they were telling the truth and exaggerating only a little. Be glad that I reminded you to eat a big breakfast. Considering we have never done this before it will be like torture. I have occasionally tested my skills and gone to see the military base. Today probably won’t be fun.”
“Anything else?”
“Don’t throw up your lunch when we get it. Or breakfast.”
“Great,” said Greg as they were pulled into a line and started to form a march toward the training yard.
The older boys who had been goofing off earlier were now serious and led the marching line. There were three lines made up of the near dozen boys. Those who didn’t line up properly at the front were swiftly yelled at and pushed into the right order. As the priest brought his eyes to the back of the line everyone else was at the ready and followed the one in front of them. Greg and Wilson as one of the younger kids found their place at the back. Greg considered speaking but any conversation was cut off.
“Each group will participate in a training portion and then a testing portion at the end. It may be challenging for some but worth it,” said Priest Damon continuing his lecture. “What I want to see is perseverance and improvement for those who have done this before. I do have your scores from before and will be looking at them. As for those who have not been with us, your scores will be compared to the first-time scores that others have received. If you do not meet the average or are not above your previous scores then extra work and added physical activity will be needed. This remedial time will of course be cut from the time you would otherwise join the others at the lake.”
There were groans and mutterings at the pronouncement, but the priest ignored them. “Being able-bodied is important and necessary for any job that you choose to pursue. Those who cannot work in any capacity cannot take care of themselves and will die. It is a simple fact of life. It is why you all have chores and responsibilities. I and the others cannot always be there to baby you like we have to with the youngest of our orphanage family.”
As the group walked down the street people made way for their training. Their looks showed they knew what the orphan kids were going to be doing. Soon they arrived at the training field. They were kept in their lines awaiting orders.
“Those of you fifteen and older step up,” said Priest Damon. Three stepped forward. “You will join the Mage Corps leader for testing. May the gods bless you with some magical ability.”
The trio were led away by a man in gray robes. They followed without a word. The priest watched for a moment before returning to his speech. Soldiers approached to watch as he finished. “Maybe the rest of you will show magical potential but that is unlikely today. Because we are now down to eight of you the group will separate into two. Each will undergo the same training from what I‘ve seen, but the styles may be slightly different. For the rest of the afternoon, I will be releasing you into the military’s care. Follow their instructions to the letter and I will return to retrieve you for dinner. Lunch will be provided by the soldiers here.”
“Step forward men,” said a soldier. He wore a more decorated uniform and had his helmet on while the others were helmetless. “You will be joining us today. I’m not one for introductions. Let’s just get you started on some laps around the field. My man here will set the pace and start with five laps. Once it is over you will join either me or him for the other exercises. Get started.”
The orphans shuffled around and started to form up around the runner. The field encompassed half of the military base. In the center were equipment for training. As they ran they were able to see more of the base and its set up. Once they rounded the first bend and everyone was going at a steady pace the speed picked up. The older boys seemed to expect it and kept up. The front man was in armor slowing him down slightly and that was the only advantage the children had over him.
Greg and Wilson found themselves at the back of the pack though not too far behind the front. Each of them had to push a little harder to keep up with their smaller frames.
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“Why are they speeding up?” Greg spat out quickly.
“Don’t waste words. Breath. Run. Focus,” said Wilson simply.
As they finished the first lap the front man spoke up.
“Match my pace! Keep yourself steady. One foot in front of the other. Keep your back as straight as you can and let your arms pump back and forth. I don’t want to see anyone out of the corner of my eye as we go around the next bend. Keep up and run! We aren’t even at a full run yet.”
After the second lap, the pace didn’t change. Each of the children was expected to keep up and stay close. When Wilson and Greg had to slow down at times the man at the front seemed to see from the back of his head and yelled for them to keep up. They grumbled but sped up. The pace was uncomfortable but not painful for them. Soon they got to the final lap and finished with the others.
“Good job. Your times have been recorded and now we will split off into groups for strength testing and then will run through some weapon practice.”
Wilson and Greg followed the man in charge of the track running with two other boys while the others joined the first man. One by one they went through the strength training. Each of them was expected to try to perform a dozen of each exercise or more if they could. As Greg worked he was reminded of the averages the Priest Damon had described. Though as he hit twelve he could barely get to thirteen. The weights stayed the same for each of the boys so when the two other kids who he knew as thirteen and fourteen years old respectively. They hit a much higher rep count each time.
Each boy would take a turn doing as many as they could while the others rested and watched. Wilson turned to the fourteen-year-old who had just finished his set of squats.
“How many reps do they expect on average? It is difficult to tell just based on what us two can do,” said Wilson.
The older boy looked down on him wiping sweat off his brow. “You will need to do more than the suggested minimum that’s for sure. I know that I was hitting close to fifteen or more when I started, and I barely made the average. Whatever he has decided it as. I expect he raises it each year just to see a few people fail while others push themselves to meet the high marks. If you are ever wondering if you should be doing more then the answer is always a ‘yes’.”
“Thanks for the advice. I’m Wilson.”
“I know who you are. The escape artist. Better gain some muscle here, but then you wouldn’t fit through the bars that they will add to your room. I’m Jack.”
He stuck out his hand. “Wilson. Nice to be formally introduced,” he said matching the handshake. “I’m not sure if I am built to gain much muscle, but I can try improving the other parts.”
Wilson returned to the exercise now that Greg was finished with his set. He followed the exercise trying to meet the fifteen repetitions that Jack had suggested. He hit fourteen before his arms gave out. The man in charge hadn’t given them several exercises that they were working on. The next time he was free he tried asking the fourth kid in their group, but the answer was always ‘more’.
“I for sure thought that he would join the military today,” said Greg. He pointed to the one who had pulled him into the terrible kickball game. The boy and the others in the second group crossed the field.
“He likes wielding power of others not having to deal with power over him. Maybe he would if he could jump right into squad leader, but he doesn’t have the skill for it.”
Greg returned to his bow and knocked another arrow. He focused on his aim and drew it back. The arrow twanged as it left his grip. He sighed as it landed on the padded target just barely hanging on. Wilson shot his arrow much closer to the target.
“I’m not good at this. Holding the bow feels wrong.”
“Well, have you held a bow before? No,” said Wilson. “Then it is probably going to be strange. Don’t worry though. We have other skills to show off. Might do better at them. I think sword fighting is next.”
“What will it matter? My arms feel terrible, and it hurts my legs when I step,” said Greg. “Even if I like sword fighting, I’ll barely be able to learn enough to decide if I like it.”
“Then rest while you can. It is clear you can’t make a good bow shot. Fire off the last of the arrows quickly and then rest. We’ve been made a fool of here. We’re probably one of the youngest that goes out to the military training. Most will be closer to thirteen than twelve at least. Try your best but remember that we can try better next time when we are older, stronger, and better. If we lose then we’ve got extra work to do. We’ve done it before and can do it again.”
“I never want extra work again. Not from the Demon. Not again. Sometimes I wish I could sneak away like you.”
“It’s not always that great. Can’t really escape no matter how far around the city I go. Leaving can be a nice break at times, but I always have to come back.”
Wilson fired off his final shot earning himself his third bullseye. He set his bow down. Greg fired off his last arrows. They were a pathetic showing compared to Wilson’s. Few had stayed on target and never hit a bullseye. Though he had gotten a little better in the time since they started. Soldiers passed by them marking their scores. It wasn’t long before they were pushed onto the next assignment.
After a brief water break and snacks, their group of four was pulled into a swordsmanship demonstration.
“Throughout our kingdom, we have several different sword styles developed by heroes, old families, or the demons across our borders. Today I will show you the start of the military technique. This style is meant for quick debilitating blows. After the demonstration, you will be put against the padded dummies. Afterward, you will show what you learned to one of our soldiers here. But first, a volunteer is needed.”
As if expecting this Jack stepped forward. “I will volunteer. I am familiar with most of the moves.”
“Good. Very good. You look familiar. What is your name?”
“I am Jack. Though I am not yet of age I intend to join a military squad one day.”
“Collect your sword and shield. These are of course blunted though hurt. Let’s see how much you have improved since last you came to our base.”
They each drew their swords. The soldier moves first. Jack expected the first testing hit and displayed his defense before following up with a standard riposte. The blow was easily blocked by the soldier’s shield. They circled each other before the soldier found an opening and struck. Jack tried to parry and was pushed back opening him up for a follow-up attack that was barely caught by his shield. The soldier pushed the advantage and gave Jack nothing. He was struck in the arm before falling over.
“Better,” said the Soldier. “You’ve lasted longer than most I’ve seen around your age. I will watch your entry with great interest. Dismissed!”
“Thank you,” said Jack. He bowed once quickly before stepping back in line with the other boys.
The soldier looked to Greg and Wilson who were younger than Jack. “I hope you two will show as much promise as him. Grab a sword and wait for a dummy. You won’t need a shield today. Let’s get you drilled on the moves your friend has presented.”