Back to Chapter 48
“Damnit.”
The light was barely more than it had been when Silar had fallen asleep, his arm around Laun. He felt rested, though his legs twitched when he moved them. She had taken more out of him than he had realized. He opened his eyes partially and confirmed that she was not beside him. He felt other bodies and heard other breaths and one snore.
And then he heard the soft voice again, swearing. This time there was a small wood on stone sound, too. And then muffled footfalls and a gasp.
He opened his eyes fully and turned slowly. There was a shadow in front of the dawn-lit windows. It was stretching, pacing and swinging something in lunges. And then the object was dropped, the rug muffling the hit of wood on stone.
Silar could see that it was Laun as she turned towards the night lamp. She was holding one wrist and flexing it in a pained manner before picking up the wooden practice sword again. Silar thought he could hear knuckles crack as she swung the sword over her head.
The light was growing through the windows and Silar was enjoying seeing Laun try to practice. Her form was stiff, but there was an underlying strength and discipline that he appreciated. She was naked, her body trying to do what she wanted, pain and disuse showing in most of her movements. There was just something about that hold that was making her drop the sword at the same point every time in her kata. She was frustrated, but she picked up the sword again and again and tried over and over. Until the sword dropped, at the same place in the routine, again. She picked up the wooden sword and held it in front of her. The light was not needed for him to see that the frustration was high enough that it might come out, the wood taking the brunt.