The goods in the storeroom were easy to count. The quantities of dried Rothé hides and bones roughly matched the figures in the ledger, with discrepancies within an acceptable range.
But the slaves tending the herds and the Rothé themselves could only be counted after they returned from the Funguswood forest. The Rothé roaming deep in the woods would not be driven back into their pens until Dark Time, and the slaves herding them were currently scattered across the island. Gathering them would take a while.
So, to pass the time, at Tristana's insistence, Renato and Rodi began a sword fight in the clearing in front of the tower.
Apparently, the young cleric checking the accounts in the storeroom was not entirely focused on her task. She had continued listening to the conversation outside, and she clearly took issue with the claim of "the family's second-best swordsman."
Renato could easily guess what Tristana was thinking: her guard could not be weaker than anyone else's.
The clearing was small, its ground covered with gravel and fine sand. Rodi fetched two training swords from beside the tower door. Their iron blades were unsharpened, with iron balls welded onto their tips.
Clang!
Raising his iron training sword, Renato parried the incoming slash. Rodi fought directly, their blades colliding with a harsh metallic ring.
The Nightwind Second Daughter was the strongest-built Drow Renato had ever seen. She stood nearly six feet tall, only a few centimeters shorter than him, with broad shoulders and an impressive reach. She was a born swordswoman.
Although the Drow training sword was not as comfortably balanced as the Silent Lady on his back, that small difference did nothing to hinder the smooth execution of his moves.
Renato turned his wrist slightly and feinted, flicking his sword tip to the