Chapter II. Reminders of unglamorous adventures

An hour after Ilire started her morning exercises, the risen sun had heated the humid atmosphere under the clouds to the point of almost unbearable heat. She was truly working hard now, panting in controlled breaths and sweat running down her face and making her clothes stick to her skin.

Block, thrust, parry, deflect, counterattack. Change leading hand. Block, thrust, parry, deflect, counterattack. Change leading foot. Block, thrust, parry, deflect, counterattack, parry, spin, slash. Change leading hand. Block, thrust, parry, deflect, counterattack, parry, spin, slash.

Moves came to her as symbols in her mind, quicker than words or images, and her body moved even before the thoughts of what she needed to do were fully formed.

She was interrupted by the sound of the door closing and she turned, panting, to see her new brother-in-law exiting the estate by the service door, with a long sword in an elegant scabbard at his left hip.

"Good day to you, my lady," Gotom greeted her with an easy smile. "Father, Mother, my wife and I were wondering if we should take our breakfast without you, but your companions told us you were probably training. Your friends have all left for their personal activities; they seemed to think that your exercises could take significant time. I told my family not to wait for us and that I would train with you, if you would?"

She nodded. "Thank you, I would appreciate it. I tire of fencing with empty air."

"Then we shall enjoy a brunch later on, so my beloved mother does not badger me about my manners in making a lady skip breakfast?"

She flashed a sly smile. "Your mother made friends easily with Jaheira, did she not? Don't worry, we will eat later and I will make sure Lady Ilvastarr has no cause to complain of your behaviour."

They bowed to each other, and Ilire sheathed her off-hand katana to face Gotom with a single weapon, the same as he.

"Oh, m'lady, you can keep your second weapon. You have already trained for over an hour, while I am fresh. It should equal our chances, don't you think?"

She hesitated slightly, but finally shrugged and took her katana again. They began circling each other, carefully watching the other's step, grip of weapons, and moves of the eyes.

Gotom tried a half-hearted attack, which Ilire parried easily. They exchanged a few thrusts and slashes, getting used to each other at an easy pace, since they trained with real weapons.

Suddenly Gotom lunged at her with a vicious, low slash to her left knee. She noted that he had been prepared to hold his blow back should her response be too slow. Her right katana caught his sword just below the guard and she spun, forcing her opponent's blade up and over her head. At the last moment she flicked her wrist not to cut his skin and the flat of the blade hit his neck, while his sword sailed past her, driven by the force of his own blow. Her second blade pointed at his side, ready to thrust into his abdomen.

He froze, looking at her grim expression, the sharpened steel cool against his neck. She took her weapons away and bowed slightly, before returning to her combat position. He swallowed and resumed. He tried every thrust, slash and move he knew. Each time she blocked, parried or sidestepped with brutal efficiency. Her strength was unsettling. His arm was tired from clashing with her blades, and she wielded two heavy katanas for over an hour without showing any sign of fatigue. Each move she made was precisely calculated, graceful and yet brutal, and executed with a carelessness and automatism that said she had seen it all before. He realized he mastered no move that she would not know how to block and answer to; she could easily see what he was going to try two or three slashes ahead.

At length he declared forfeit. He was trained with the blade and held no fear of the thugs roaming the poorer districts of Waterdeep, but his skill was in no way comparable to hers.

They bowed to each other and she sheathed her blades slowly and ceremoniously.

"Congratulations, m'lady."

She gave a pale smile and bowed again. "Thank you, m'lord."

They made their way inside. Just inside the door, they parted so they could change before they went to take their brunch and Sinna, Gotom's wife, took Ilire's arm to accompany her to the bathing chambers.

She giggled and elbowed Ilire gently. The two women, even if they did not know each other very well, got along surprisingly well. Ilire found it a relief to have something of a sister who did not entail all of Imoen's at times tiresome pranks.

"You so completely bested him," Sinna whispered conspiratorially.

Ilire smiled and shrugged. "Thank you, but your husband is very talented."

"But he could not land a single blow on you!"

The good-humoured smile faded slowly from Ilire's lips. "No, but he could defend himself against me, while he spends most of his life within the estate's walls, doing tasks of administration. He is very disciplined in the training with his sword and very skilled for someone who has so little time to dedicate to the training at arms."

Sinna smiled. "I see what you mean, but still, you beat him effortlessly."

The adventurer had a humourless smile. "I'm not belittling him. Training is one thing. Fighting for one's life is quite another. Besides the sheer amount of time I've spent with those two blades in my hands in the last year, fighting to survive puts some sense of urgency in your learning of fighting skills. Under the adrenaline of battle and the fear for your life, I assure you that every tiniest detail of the attacker's moves and strategies are forever imprinted in your mind." There was a shift to something far darker in Ilire's countenance. "Some adventurers I've met say that when you kill people, you can only remember the first ones, but that after some time you cannot remember their faces clearly. I don't know how people can get used to killing or being killed. I don't know how they can forget a single grimace of agony or scream of pain." She suddenly stopped, as if broken from a trance and reminded of reality. Sinna was very much aware at that moment that Ilire was a Child of Murder, even if she expressed revulsion towards so much death. Ajantis never spoke of the battles when he was home, only of the results, the peace he accomplished by these fights. Sinna suddenly wondered if her brother-in-law had similar, sinister thoughts about those they had to kill or be killed by.

"Adventure is not as glamorous as bards want to make it sound," Ilire concluded in an attempt at lightening the mood. "But there are things that need to be done, and there is not always a pleasant choice available to you. I'm glad that you and your family can choose what you will do of your life. I hope I will be given that chance too now, with Ajantis. But we won't shirk duty if it comes." Then she took a breath. "Forgive me for my dark words, Sinna. Ajantis' departure has put me in a dark mood, and I worry for his safety. The Sword Coast is not the safest place to travel on Toril, and I worry for him, even if I know he's well capable of taking care of himself."

Sinna bowed her head graciously, relieved that the subject was returning to a safer topic. "I understand, Ilire. I am sure Ajantis will be safe. No bandits would dare attack a battalion of men from the Order. Come, let us change and share some food, it will take your mind off your worries."

Ilire gave her a weak smile and followed her into the bathing chambers.

ooooo

A tenday later, Imoen had receded down into mild depression upon the discovery that the possible entrance into Undermountain she had heard about was all just a hoax to attract and rob fledgling adventurers. Obviously the thieves spreading the rumours had regretted their choice of prey for once. Imoen, for all the easy grins and the pink hair, was still a skilled rogue and a formidable mage… The city guard was very surprised when a band of mind-dominated thugs showed up on their doorstep, covered in magical glue and feathers, to confess all their crimes.

Dynaheir was beginning to show boredom regarding dusty tomes and expressed a healthy desire for seeing first hand all the monsters and try all the spells she had read about in the last days.

Minsc was as happy as ever participating in the training of Waterdeep's guards. His brash outspokenness had at first frightened the poor guard captain, but Dynaheir's petition in favour of her bodyguard's talents had not fallen on deaf ears. After witnessing the ranger's uncanny skill with his massive two-handed sword and his bow, the captain had been very grateful for Minsc's participation in the duties of the city guard.

Jaheira and Khalid had spent the last week at the Harpers' chapter, but now they were back at the Ilvastarr estate with the rest of Ilire's companions. Jaheira began to show her typical she-bear impatience to find herself outside of the confinement of city walls, and Khalid did his best to contain her.

The whole of Ilire's adventuring company was currently guests at the Ilvastarr estate. While the five invited companions had all been polite and slightly embarrassed to find themselves in a noble manor, it was still easy to get an accurate impression of their personalities. Minsc's enthusiasm for battle had been established quickly enough, although he obeyed Dynaheir and refrained from shocking the noble ladies with grand declarations about butt-kicking evil. The invoker's manners would not have been displaced in a royal court, and so she impressed the Ilvastarr family, who understood her need of an efficient bodyguard, even if he was simple-minded. Imoen was everything they expected of a little sister, mischievous but always well-meaning. Khalid was obviously timid and his stutter was noticed, but the Ilvastarr were too polite to comment, even Gotom's young son. As for Jaheira, her decisive attitude, sharp tongue and motherly aggressiveness and protectiveness towards Ilire had been easily spotted.

Ilire had said she would wait for Ajantis to come back, and she would. For the time being, her companions were enjoying the break from the incessant battle, and were not impatient enough to press her.