As Vilkas and Nefasteri exited the hall and onto the yard, they were met by a most peculiar sight - a lean girl of no more than sixteen was busily incapacitating three stocky full-grown warriors. One was already groaning on the ground. There was something dauntingly familiar about the girl's face and auburn hair, which Nefasteri couldn't quite place.
They stood under the canopy, in the shade, watching until the girl finished fighting - her opponents were all groaning on the ground, and Nefasteri had no doubt they would be black and blue from the bruises in the morning. Now two companions, whom Nefasteri didn't remember having seen before, helped the fallen up and led them to the shade.
Vilkas, seeing Nefasteri's puzzlement, said, "Eana takes after her mother in looks, though she has skill from both her parents. We have been using her as a judge of people's fighting. If they live, they pass."
"What, do you mean she has killed here? Vilkas you know this is-"
"No, not like that. If they said they'd rather die than train with Eana again, then we let them go."
"Oh, well." Nefasteri paused for a moment and smiled mischievously, looking up at Vilkas, "So you and Aela, eh?"
The gruff warrior looked bashful for a moment, but smiled and said, "Aye, that we are." He paused and called the girl over.
Eana really took after her mother, except the eyes which were as silver as Vilkas'. She eyed Nefasteri down and asked with a slight sneer, "Do I have to test her too? She seems a bit old."
Nefasteri laughed and before Vilkas could say anything, replied, "Yes, girl, I would like you to test my skill. No weapons, please - I can barely lift them."
Eana sighed and turned back to the yard, murmuring something about age madness. Nefasteri just grinned at Vilkas and said, "Don't worry. We're both too proud as we are, and whichever of us loses will have had a good lesson in humility."
She reached behind and loosed some strings on her dress. The skirt slipped down, revealing leather leggings. Nefasteri smiled again, this time with a predatory spark in her eyes and strode lightly over to the yard, where Eana was waiting already, smoothing down her hide armor.
"Let's get cracking," the girl said and launched herself at Nefasteri.
She had obviously been expecting a fast victory and neglected to think strategically. Nefasteri neatly sidestepped the attack and hit the girl on the back. She wriggled, avoiding most of the damage, but she hadn't been expecting such agility from the 'old lady.' As they clashed, a crowd of watchers drew in, both full-fledged companions and whelps.
They were closely matched, Nefasteri's skill and experience leveled by Eana's vigor and speed. The match went on ten long minutes, until Eana wobbled and tripped, not accustomed to such long fights. All the gathered watchers were talking days afterwards about what had happened - did the older woman really jump five feet in the air and kick the girl down before neatly dropping on the ground again, or did she simply kick Eana's feet from under her? Whatever the move had been, it ended with Eana flat on her stomach, and Nefasteri on top of her.
"So, what's the lesson we learned today?" the Harbinger leaned down while the crowd exploded in applause and questions like 'who is she?'
The girl mumbled something unintelligible, struggling against the pressure to get free.
Nefasteri got up and drew the girl up with her, saying, "We don't get cocky around old ladies before finding out who they are, got it?"
"Fine, fine." Eana was struggling between wanting to know, who Nefasteri was, and trying to run away from the amazed and amused crowd. Fortunately, Vilkas came to them, and Aela too, melting out of the surroundings like a shadow.
"Nef!" the huntress exclaimed and threw her arms around Nefasteri's neck, receiving a hug just as tight, while Eana watched wide-eyed at the spectacle. Then the huntress turned to her daughter and said in an admonitory tone, "I hope you learn from this mistake, Eana. Never underestimate your enemy."
Eana barely listened, and as soon as Aela shut her mouth, the girl exclaimed, "Who is this?"
"I am Nefasteri, your Harbinger."
All the rage drained out of the girl immediately and she deflated like an apple left too long in the sun. She had grown up listening to the amazing feats of the Harbinger, the victories, and even more victories. They said Nefasteri never lost a fight. But, after twenty years of absence, some had been starting to doubt that saying. The girl stood stock still - somehow her defeat didn't even seem so terrible now, that she knew it was the Harbinger who she held off for ten whole minutes.
Nefasteri smiled in a conciliatory way and said, "Don't worry, you'll be a huntress yet. The first time we met, your father ended up eating a mouthful of dirt too, so consider yourself continuing the family tradition." As Vilkas very nearly blushed from embarrassment she turned to the couple beside her and said, "We need to talk now. Where is Farkas?"
"He's out on a job I believe. But he should be back soon," Aela replied, leading the way back to the hall, while Eana stayed back in a crowd of companions imparting the real identity of her victor as an excuse of defeat.
Back in the underground coolness of her Harbinger's quarters, Nefasteri began, "Tell me all. What has been happening while I was away? Is the war still on? How is the money coming?"
"Yes, the war is still being fought, but at a snail's pace," Aela began the recount. "Both Stormcloak and Tullius are old men - they cannot keep this on for long, yet they refuse to give command to younger generals. Both sides have approached us, to hire our help."
"Ye gods!" Nefasteri breathed out. "You did refuse them, didn't you?"
"Of course. No politics, just as you said. But now with the war, there are more and more renegades, war criminals, and other riff-raff. The main parties have no time to deal with them, or so they claim, and the people come to us for help. Some come to help, not wanting to choose a side."
"So that's that. What of Balgruuf? Is he still Jarl?"
"Yes, but he is very old. He is still sound of mind, but the temple healers say his body is failing. A disease of some kind, one that cannot be healed."
"Oh." Nefasteri looked crest-fallen. Balgruuf had always been just and honorable, putting his people before himself. "How long do they say he has?"
"A year maybe. Maybe three days. It's a terrible illness that ravaging him. Now they can only keep the pain away, but barely." A hint of sadness snuck even into ever-steely Aela's voice.
"Then I must go to him now. Everything else can wait." Nefasteri stood up resolutely.
"We'll go with you," Vilkas said, and Aela nodded. They had always been good friends to the Harbinger.
"I have to change into something more presentable, but please send down someone to ask when is the next carriage leaving for Falkreath," Nefasteri said and retreated into her bedroom with the old leather sack.
Vilkas went to find some whelp to send on the task at Aela's prod, and a few minutes later Nefasteri emerged, now wearing her light dragon-scale armor. The women left the underground side by side, meeting Vilkas on the way. The trio then continued out of the hall and into the still bright light of day.