Dur’var personally and attentively supervised the exercises performed by the volunteers of the standing corps. The girl hadn't noticed it before, but it made sense; he clearly wanted to ensure that those he knew would certainly take part in the next expedition were in good condition. Prepared.
From a distance, Gar’zak threw what he thought were menacing glares at her, but he didn't try anything more. So she ignored him, focusing on repeating the parries and strikes that now came more easily to her than in previous training sessions. The practice shields and weapons seemed lighter, and she could wield them with more freedom. This confirmed her observations from the hunt, and she accepted the fact with a certain excitement. She was now fully convinced that this new way of using her gift could bring beneficial changes to her body.
She savored this new strength with satisfaction. She decided to skip sparring, however, wanting to first fully understand her new capabilities before facing anyone in a match. So she hacked, struck, and stabbed the innocent training dummies set on sturdy posts with various practice weapons. Then she moved on to strength training, which consisted of swinging a specially weighted two-handed club behind her back and in front, to rotate it from one side to the other over her own head. She quickly gave up, however, not wanting to cause a sensation. Her posture might have been slightly enhanced, but it certainly didn't explain what she was now capable of. She cautiously estimated that her brawn was now on par with the burliest among the volunteers, but she couldn't be certain.
She took a break, wiped the sweat from her face, and drank a few sips of the pleasantly cool water from their mountain spring, which goblins refilled in a barrel on the training grounds before each session. She sat down on a bench and stretched her legs. After a long moment, the young woman who had sat behind her at yesterday's awarding of merits sat down next to her. She still had a bandage on her left eye.
"You're doing very well for such a young volunteer," she said with praise in her voice. "How many springs have you seen, thirteen?"
It didn't irritate her; others often assumed she was younger than she really was due to her height and build. So she answered calmly, "No, actually, sixteen."
"Oh, no offense. Gra’sha, right?" she threw out quickly to change the subject. "I'm Sha’dru. I had a pretty good view from the second rank of the thrashing you gave those gnolls. You're relentless."
"Thanks. You did well, too. You were the only one left standing in the second rank. You brought honor to the ancestor spirits," she replied.
As an exchange of pleasantries, Gra’sha gave her a short nod of acknowledgment. The young woman responded in kind and continued, "Yes, you see, we'll probably serve together on many more expeditions. Let's meet at the bathhouse after we finish here. I'll come get you."
The girl was pleased by the invitation and the interest from her slightly older companion-in-arms. She smiled widely, showing her modest lower tusks, and replied, "Sure!"
The other woman smiled back at her slightly and, standing up, said, "See you later."
Gra’sha finished her training and returned to her quarters for her things. She noticed a few new faces in the recently empty quarters. She was one of the oldest of the clan's wards still using the common barracks. There was never a shortage of orphans, but sooner or later, they all went their own way. She, on the other hand, spent most of her time working and training to fulfill her aspiration of becoming part of the chieftain's warband, not paying much attention to her living conditions, assuming that the promotion would solve everything.
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As for her social life, she had proper relations with all the wards, and with some who had flown the clan's nest before her, she had even good ones, at least for a time. Mal’gor, who was older than her, still checked on how she was doing in training and if she was eating well. There were others, too, but they had started their own families, some even had children already. Everyone lived their own life; some had already ended up in the barrows. That's why the prospect of including a new, slightly older friend in her modest circle was very appealing to her.
In a good mood and with her basket of bathing supplies, she went outside. Sha’dru was already waiting. She walked up to her, and together they went to the bathhouse, making casual conversation along the way. After paying a small fee, they both found themselves in the first bathing room, where one had to get thoroughly clean. The young woman scrubbed the girl's back as if they had known each other for a long time. It didn't escape Gra'sha's notice that the soap she had brought with her in a decorative clay pot was one of the better ones available in the stronghold. It smelled pleasant.
"It's my own blend," Sha’dru explained, moving to the front so the girl could return the favor.
Gra’sha hummed in appreciation and, taking some soap from the pot onto a cloth, set to work on her back. She noted with a touch of envy that nature had not only gifted the woman with a stately, strong build but also with a bust that certainly drew the interest of men.
"I think it's no coincidence that we were the only ones from our ranks to return alive. Sure, I took a hit, but my eye is fine, and the eyelid will heal," the woman began without turning around. Then she lowered her voice slightly and continued, "We shouldn't waste such a chance from our ancestors. Let's look out for each other in the coming fights."
It was a proposition, though it didn't sound like one. Sensing Gra’sha's slight hesitation, the woman rested her head on her shoulder and looked at her with the chestnut iris of her healthy right eye. With a hope not present in her voice, but captured in that gaze.
"Sure," the girl replied, a little embarrassed. "You can count on me."
"You know," Sha’dru said, smiling slightly, then bowed her head forward, arching her back a bit before continuing, "I was right behind you after you threw that dead gnoll off of you. I saw everything that happened afterward, though on that same day, there was no trace of it on your body..."
The cloth stopped in the middle of the woman's back. Gra’sha froze and frantically searched for some explanation, but before she could think of anything, the woman turned to her, grabbed her hands gently, and assured her in a serious tone, "You'll tell me when you're ready. In the meantime, all of this stays between us. You can count on me, too."
Sha’dru stood up and, without letting go of her hands, pulled her to her feet with such a sincere expression that she convinced the girl she truly meant what she said. They rinsed themselves thoroughly and went to the second room, where they submerged themselves in a tub of warm water.
There, the woman told Gra’sha where she lived. She had her own house in the front part of the stronghold, west of the gate, one street from the palisade, and its doors, she assured, were always open to her. "I live alone, so don't be shy and visit me sometime," she added at the end.
"Mmm, I'd like that," the girl assured her, though she was still a bit astonished by the whole conversation.
It seemed to her that Sha’dru truly saw her as a valuable ally and, moreover, had no intention of pressuring her or asking about her unusual situation. She was a little scared, but at the same time excited by the prospect that there was someone besides the wolves with whom she might be able to talk about this. She needed more time, though, even if a part of her just wanted to unburden herself to someone who wished her well.
Afterward, they said a warm goodbye and went their separate ways. Gra’sha wasn't yet sure what to think of it all, but she very much wanted to believe that this was the beginning of a good friendship for her. As for Sha’dru, she returned home satisfied that everything had gone according to her plan; she had planted a seed and intended to tend to it well.
