It didn’t get him out of practice, but it did get him a minute to collect himself. Luckily, due to his pitiful state of conditioning he got to start slow, lifting and swinging stones, which had been made of focus stone, and ranged from about ten pounds up to weights that he honestly didn’t think anyone could lift alone, rounded things bigger than he could have wrapped both arms around. Hundreds of pounds or more at least. Davie worked with him on it, starting him on exercises with the heaviest weight Tor could manage and then working each one until he couldn’t move any more. Then he got a brief break, long enough to suck down some water but not really rest, and was put directly to sparing with people.
He’d watched them all practice while he worked harder than he had in months, trying to catch a sense of how good they were. Everyone was better than he was Tor decided. Even Ursala used her practice sword and stick like a pro. Not as good as the others, but Tor didn’t doubt she could kick his sorry little butt. When he was up for practice Kolb called over one of the other combat giants, his new instructors, a guy that Tor had worked with before, but not for half a year or more. No doubt the man had gotten even better, pushing harder because a war was on.
The man didn’t cut Tor any slack, apparently as punishment for him having missed too many work outs in a row. He got it, really he did. When that man had “killed” him five times, another new opponent was called in. Several of them had gathered around to take their own turn apparently, since there favorite target was back in the game. He stuck with it as best he could. When the second round of him being beaten with a practice sword was over, he was “rewarded” by being allowed to fight the remaining giants with his bare hands.
Because that made sense. If any of these people ever came at him to fight, he’d just take off and run away. Like he was supposed to.
Apparently in this new troop or whatever the name ended up being, practice rules were harder than at school, it now being fair to hit or kick to the arms, legs, middle and back full force as well as use full force throws and joint locks. At least when people were working with him. He did the best he could, fighting, kicking and even pretending to bite and gauge eyes.
Tor would have run away, but he was already too tired. Anyone would catch him instantly now, most likely. That was part of the plan, no doubt.
The last person he faced wasn’t as big as the others, thankfully, but hit nearly as hard. They wore a full helm, so that he could practice blows to the face as well. The person was lean, but obviously a woman, Tor felt her breasts through her leather training outfit. They ended up locked on the ground, both struggling to try and lock a joint, to distract the other, or throw a punch that would have ended things. The woman writhed under him, her hips rhythmically thrusting, trying to both throw him off and entice him at the same time. Like that would distract him in a fight? After a while he actually managed to get a few good shots in to the face plate when Kolb called an end to the exercise.
“Kind of pitiful Tor. Your conditioning is all but gone, and you’re far too little to give that away against an attacker. Everyone is. Tomorrow same time, unless you have a major build planned?”
Tor, gasping for breath, shook his head.
“No, sir, just some light copy work. I’ll be here.” Tor was just glad that no one had hit him in the groin this time.
“Good enough. I may have a project idea or two soon, but not until you’re in better shape retucally.”
Dismissed, they all walked back towards the hut, so that they could grab showers and clean clothes for the rest of the day. Tor was already sore, which was probably his just due, for failing to make himself stay in better shape. It was a process he knew, that had a frequent toll, in work. Stop paying and it goes away. He hobbled as best he could, trying to keep up with the others. Ursala stared at him, then looked at the others, even turning around to see if Kolb was still watching as they walked through the door that had been cut in the smooth black stone. Once through she stopped them all by raising her right hand in front of the group.
“Wait… did they just…” she looked at Rolph first, but then started at Sara. “I mean, what was that? That’s not normal at all, even for hardened warriors. Do they train like that?” She asked, sounding exasperated suddenly.
Rolph seemed baffled, but Sara got it and nodded, “Yeah. It’s the way Tor’s been trained for years too. Here watch this; Tor, out of the four of us, who do you thinks the best fighter?”
What? That was an odd question to ask. He had to get her to clarify what the parameters were, just who would win a fight? Armed or unarmed? Shields, armor, or street clothes? There were a thousand variables to consider.
She told him to consider just a straight up fight, no shields, no weapons, no mental tricks, just body against body.
“Rolph.” Tor said instantly, not even having to stop and think about it. “Skill counts, but he’s a giant compared to the rest of us, and he has a lot of training. That’s provided he’s willing to hurt us of course, which normally wouldn’t happen, but presuming an actual, anything goes fight, it would be him almost every time.”
It was probably true Sara allowed, nodding gently. Then she asked who had the greatest skill level, again making him think it was a trick.
“Um, not to be mean to Rolph, or you Ursala, you’re both really good, but Sara probably. Those special school kids are all good…”
Sara waved at Tor sharply and turned back to the Countess.
“Like that. He has no clue. Tor thinks I’m good because the one time we practiced together I “won” more often than he did. This was right after Kolb had him run fifteen or sixteen miles. Even then he had to be alternated between Trice and I without a break and he still almost took out Trice in the first fifteen seconds. She was totally not ready for him. Hitting him is a bit like slapping a piece of oak. It most often hurts you more than the wood. You can damage it if you try hard enough, but unless you destroy it, it almost doesn’t matter. He just keeps coming at you.”
What, Tor wondered, were they talking about? He had to run, because he was too little and weak to do anything else. If anyone ever caught him, he’d probably be all out of breath and exhausted, so he had to practice that way most often. Kolb had told him that early on. It made sense, didn’t it?
Rolph nodded with a grin.
“Oh, yeah, it makes sense Tor. No one does it, except for some of those people back there and you, but it does make perfect and total sense. If you’re training someone to fight against massive unknown threats, it’s a great method. Given everything, you should probably practice harder though. Kolb’s right. Your conditioning sucks right now.”
Sara agreed and started walking again, leaving Ursala standing next to Tor, muttering, “but…”
Grinning Rolph just shrugged.
“Look Ursa, it’s just true. We’re at war, and if Tor isn’t a prime target of our enemies, then they’re too stupid to involve themselves in a battle at all. We can’t afford to have soft stick man Tor waiting for them to come kill on a whim with a perfumed pillow. We need warrior Tor to come out and play now, or their going to take him from us, and then what will we do for entertainment?”
The large woman sighed and started walking. It kind of made sense once it was said out loud. Tor really had a lot of work to do. Maybe more than he could do? The idea frightened him a little, because there was never enough time. He had to make the time somehow.
That and pay attention to the things that were important. What was important to him though” Tor wondered as he walked, muscles tightening already.
Gold?