Aldric slept well, surprisingly enough, and when he woke, it was dawn. Despite his reluctance in leaving Quinn's side, he gently peeled himself away from her, got out of bed, and headed into the bathroom to brush his teeth, wash his face, and change. Fifteen minutes later and in his gym shorts, t-shirt, and running shoes, he paced along the colonnade walkway, heading toward the military building, which was located a short walk away.
The gym was a colossal hall and took up three of the five floors and half the length of the military building. Within the space were various stations and equipment designed specifically for trainings, the likes of which neither Aldric nor his men had never seen before. That first day when they had stepped foot into the now much loved, much used facility, they had been awed, and indeed, overwhelmed.
The old training ground had been the bare basics, nothing more than an open space within the courtyard of Norsewood Manor where newly recruited soldiers would be tutored and the veterans sparred one another to sharpen their skills, a space that could not be used come winter when snow was thick and heavy and the temperature dropped below freezing. This gym, however, was indoors where it was warm and dry and could be used always, regardless of the changing seasons, and it was anything but basic.
This, Aldric thought, far surpassed the training ground in the capital he had had the honor of using, which was famed for its extravagant halls and top-notch mock weapons. Indeed, the kingdom military did not even have training equipment, let alone the likes of what Quinn had magically created for them.
Across the gym there were the fitness station with treadmills, spin bikes, cross-trainers, and more; weight training with various dumbbells as well as barbells with the weight ranging from ten pounds to five hundred; two sparring courts with platforms and various mock weapons ranging from swords to spares to axes and more; a rock-climbing station where a hazardous, deeply inclined rocky wall with the slippery surface automatically shifted and changed every few seconds; and a pool where the soldiers routinely did laps to strengthen their bodies and swimming ability.
Always the first to arrive, Aldric picked up his weight straps and vest, items that added mass to one's body while training, and after he fastened the straps around his forearms and lower legs, and the vest around his torso, he headed to one of the treadmills.
The moment he stepped onto the platform, Vicky appeared on the screen in front of him.
Good morning, my lord.
"Good morning, Vicky," he greeted.
How much weight would you like to add on?
"Six thousand pounds," he said, using one of the imperial units of measurement in Athol.
Six thousand pounds has been added, Vicky stated. Seven hundred and fifty pounds on each strap and three thousand on the vest.
The straps and vest glowed, and instantly, Aldric felt the load on him, not that it bothered him much since he had been training with them on for one month now, steadily increasing the weight each day as he progressed.
What incline would you like?
"Fifty percent incline," he said.
Fifty percent incline has been inputted.
Aldric felt the platform of the treadmill shifting until the tip angled upward at fifty percent. Then he started jogging, slow at first as he warmed up, and then faster and faster, until he felt his heart pumping louder and more furious in his chest. When thirty minutes passed, he slowed down, just when Vincent, along with the soldiers, Liam among them, started filing into the hall for their morning drill. He was sweating and his muscles felt good, having had a good start at working out.
The hall was loud with hums of chatter, and while the men did their stretches and warm-ups and some fooling about, Vincent came over to Aldric.
"Early as usual I see," the friend said and then peeked at the screen. When he saw the miles completed, he whistled. "Thirty miles in thirty minutes. Are you planning on beating a horse at racing?"
Aldric snorted. "If I can't beat a horse when spring arrives, I'm not the monstrous, infamous earl people on the other side of the alps are so afraid of."
Vincent nodded. "Indeed. Having such a legendary, nefarious title requires constant upgrading for the effect to work, set more fear into the spines of those already frightened of you." He chuckled. "Once you've beaten a horse at racing, I'm certain there's no reason you'd need a stallion when your feet are faster."
"I'll just have to find something much faster than myself," Aldric said, his thoughts on those strange vehicles he had seen in movies the children watched on the television.
Motorbikes, they called them, and the ones that could carry passengers like a carriage were cars. He wondered how they were operated because they were clearly not led by animals such as horses or donkeys. He also wondered if having Robert and Darell and their men making such advance transportation was possible. Then again, as he had seen in the movies while watching with his children and nieces and nephews during the little spare time he had, those vehicles required smooth roads, and that was not something they had or could even accomplish in Norsewood. A rough dirt road was the only thing they could construct here. As for brick and cobbles, they were expensive and the labor was extensive, so a vast network of those was not possible across Norsewood.
Indeed, such perfect roads like those ones could never be done by the likes of the Norsewood people unless...
The sight of the high concrete wall of the gym caught his eyes, and Aldric stared, dumbfounded. But of course, Quinn had created all these with her magic, so why couldn't she with the road? Or the motorbikes and the cars?
"Aldric?" Vincent's voice came. "Hello? Anyone home?"
Dismissing the thoughts of cars and roads from his mind for now, he turned his attention to Vincent and said, "Let's get the drill started."
Vincent chuckled. "Of course."
The men, who had already had their weight straps and vests on, started spreading out, taking up their positions across the hall.
As the Lord of Norsewood and commander of his soldiers, Aldric led by example, and he'd always joined his men in drills and trainings, often working one hundred times harder. Hence, he took up a position on the raised platform in front of the men, and Vincent joined him.
Vincent said, "All right, men, let's get the day started by sweating it out." He clapped his hands once, the sound echoing across the hallway. "I have no doubt you've seen how the women look at us."
At that, the single men, except for Liam, smirked as they glanced at each other, understanding where their captain was going.
"Hunger! Desire! They flirt with us with their gazes and smiles. They want us! They trust us to love and protect them! We are the Norsewood men!"
The soldiers burst into cheers and roars with fists in the air while Liam seemed... a little lost. A soldier nudged his shoulder and said, "You're a bit innocent, aren't you, Liam?"
Liam, wondering what he meant, said, "Pardon?"
The man burst out laughing. "You're clueless when it comes to women."
Liam looked confused at that remark and was about to ask for clarification when Vincent shouted, "Now, give me five hundred push-ups!" Liam's attention was drawn back to front.
"Roger!" the men bellowed all around, leading Liam to shout out the word as well. Then, as had been trained daily for the past month, they plopped to the floor and began the drill as Aldric and Vincent started.
After the intense warm-up routine consisting of push-ups, pull-ups, sit-ups, running, squats and then relentlessly repeating all half an hour later, the men were already sweating profusely, and the race of the rock climbing began.
There was no harness to protect them here as everyone, still with at least six hundred pounds of mass strapped on them, climbed the wall freestyle, and once they reached the top, they jumped back down from fifty feet high, again freestyle, and then started climbing and jumping down repeatedly until the thirty minutes were up. If anyone broke their limbs, which a number had during the earlier days of the training, then they'd be taken to the health clinic to be healed by Lady Quinn. Since last week, however, no one had had any injuries, and Aldric was pleased. No injuries meant the men were getting used to the intensive, grueling routine, and it wouldn't be long until they'd get even stronger and could reach a level where he had been at when he was a young man of twenty with blood blessed by Isaris, a stage of strength and ability where he could beat some fifty well-trained soldiers by himself.