Training camp woes

"AGAIN!" Riley shouted at the recruits. They executed their forms on cue, moving through the exercise. Block, slash, thrust, retreat. The wooden swords moved in attempted unison. 

Poorly attempted unison. 

His frustration mounted. The boys, for boys they all were, ranging from fourteen to seventeen years of age, struggled and sweated in the afternoon sun. 

War. Roland had said a last battle was coming. They needed to be ready, to train. He wouldn't let it be like last time, where his two young brothers and their newly-recruited peers were thrust into combat without more than a day's training. 

It had nearly cost his brothers their lives, and had cost Kyler the full use of his legs. 

"AGAIN!" He reached out to lift one boy's elbow, and hooked his foot on the recruit's ankle to pull it sideways to widen his stance. Satisfied with the improvement, he moved onto the next.

They were nervous. Understandably so. The General's job had never included the direct training of recruits. At most, the office holder gave a speech to the graduates at the end of their year. This personal attention was unheard of.

Certainly, once Riley had taken the office he had a few more quirks than the retired General, but the training of the brand-new recruits could easily be handled by a less experienced fighter. They needed to know the basics, and most anyone could teach them that. 

Especially when there had been no war on the horizon. 

But now, Riley was determined that no boy should fall unnecessarily under his care. Casualties in war were inevitable, but they could be kept to a minimum. After the emotional height of the War Between Worlds had subsided, he recognized that the survival of the city had been called into question. 

Calling out every possible fighter, even the inexperienced, was a judgment call that he might have made under the same circumstances.

If he had to make that call this time, it would be with the clarity of conscience that resulted from personally bringing these recruits to the greatest fighting prowess they could attain at their tender ages.

"AGAIN!" He demanded, and the boys went through the routine, raggedly, exhausted. The unforgiving summer sun beat down on them, but the intensity of the training would toughen them. He hoped. 

War. War meant blood, death, and loss. 

"AGAIN!" 

It meant widows. Orphans. Mothers weeping over the graves of their sons. 

"AGAIN!" 

Another war could mean the stench of goblins reeking through the city. The screech of gargoyles overhead. 

"AGAIN!" 

The creeping Void shadowing them all with its awful power. 

"AGAIN!" 

Untold horrors from worlds yet unknown. Who knew what would come through when the worlds collided? 

"AGAIN!" Sweat poured down the boys' faces, and a few were looking faint. Riley sighed. 

"Water, for three minutes, then pair off for spars." He said, disappointed that they could not hold out longer. They might have to hold out for far longer than that to keep the world from falling to the forces coming for them. 

The boys stumbled towards the water barrel, drinking carefully but gratefully. Water was rationed now. None for bathing at the time being. Not for these recruits. They would have to smell and reek. Perhaps it would prepare them a little for the stench of battle. 

Roland's scouts had estimated that approximately a third of the water known to Klain had been poisoned by the sky mountain that fell into the sea. 

Most was being reserved to water the crops, and much of the rest was designated for drinking and cooking. There had been some discussion amongst the Council about the merits of slaughtering livestock to feed the refugees, and thus saving the water the animals normally would have drunk.

At the same time, they would need many more animals in the future to feed everyone, and as many as was sustainable should be bred for future meals and resources. It was a perilous and difficult decision. 

Thankfully, for the time being, the lake had remained pure, and the glacier water running down from the mountain range was drinkable without harm to the citizens. 

Of course, Roland was in charge of all that. His war preparations were quite different than Riley's. He had to feed everyone, clothe them, keep their spirits up, and make sure there would be plenty to survive a siege. 

As it stood now, they wouldn't. 

So Riley had to make sure they could break a siege if they couldn't endure it. He turned to the Captain over the recruits with a frown. 

"Are the new ones always so hopeless?" He huffed. 

"Give them time. They are young. They will learn." The Captain said sagely. He was filling in for Peter, who was normally in charge of training. Since Mayra had just had their new baby, he was home today, leaving Riley to scream at the new recruits without familial interference. 

"They may not have time. It's possible none of us do," The General clenched his teeth. 

"How do you mean?" The soldier had been wary since Riley's arrival. Not on edge like his recruits, but clearly he knew that there was something important in Riley's personal attendance for the basic fighting lessons. 

The General considered his words. Klain had trained soldiers regularly and intensely for hundreds of years without a single war or battle worthy of a footnote in their history books. Then, they had fought the Rhone and Void. Two years later, the combined forces of goblins and gargoyles. 

The ten years of peace since then had given them time to recover. But now? 

"I mean, we need to be prepared, and quickly, for whatever may come." Riley answered at length. 

"And what is that, if I may ask, Sir?" The Captain lowered his voice, glancing at the panting recruits. 

"None of us knows, but it may come sooner than we'd like." Riley pursed his lips. When he became General, he'd almost raised the recruitment age back to sixteen, or even higher. The fate of their city should not rest on the shoulders of children. 

He was ambivalent about that now. These boys were young, and he didn't want to put them in harm's way. His oldest son was nine, tall and lean for his age, and would easily fit in with one or two of the smallest recruits here. 

"Except better at sparring," He mumbled to himself as he watched the recruits pair off, having completed their break.

"Pardon, Sir?" The captain asked

"I was just wondering why these boys' fathers never taught them anything. They all did their year of service, and hopefully the annual extra training when they can, and yet their sons show up knowing nothing!" Riley was growing frustrated. Was his father the only one who had taken an interest in teaching swordplay to his sons? 

He understood back before the wars, how no one ever thought one would come. Their sons would learn from the army at the proper time, but now? 

Ashmayne had known something of what was out in the world, and had prepared his sons in the best way he could. Riley was doing the same.

"These recruits are the best we've had in years, Sir." The captain grimaced. 

Riley gave him an incredulous look. "You're serious?" 

"Sir, most of these just volunteered at the end of last week, with the Call." The Captain replied. 

Another new strategy Riley had implemented. Though men could still volunteer for their service at any time of the year, they were encouraged to do so at the Call, which went out twice a year, regularly. That way the beginner classes could be taught at a certain level without constantly having to train new men in the meanest of basics. 

Had the last Call only been a few days ago? Riley wiped a hand down his face. That seemed so long ago now, he'd been doing so much. He needed to slow down. 

"Perhaps, Sir, if I may make a suggestion," The Captain began. 

"Please do," The General responded. "I welcome it, to ease my frustration in banging my head against a wall working on this." 

"I think instead of yelling at them over the basics, you might take a moment to show them what they should be aspiring to? That might also ease your frustration." The Captain voiced hopefully. 

"A demonstration?" Riley asked. 

"If you please, Sir. These boys were all raised on tales of your exploits in the wars, and would likely feel greatly inspired." The Captain replied. 

Riley sighed. That was a good idea, why hadn't he thought of it? There had been a time when showing off in front of people he could awe with his abilities would have been his first thought, not his last. 

"In whatever way you think best, Sir." The soldier belatedly added, as if Riley would shrink down from the challenge if it were too difficult. 

Riley smirked, perusing the recruits. They glanced at him with wide eyes, or tried to ignore his presence while they focused on their sparring partners. To fight them directly might demoralize them, especially if he had to go extremely easy on them. Riley turned to the Captain. 

"Bring me all your training officers." He said with a serious tone. 

"All of them, Sir?"