Damn potato farmers couldn't even do a trial at arms right, Inez thought as her guards helped her down out of the wagon that had been commandeered to bring her to the practice yard. By the stink of cow dung, the dusty yard catered more to live stock than training. Despite the miasma that hung over the place, the idle and bored of Argethafen had turned out for some free entertainment. They crowded the split railed fence, calling out bets, insults and advice to the two men circling each other in the center. One was a scarred looking veteran with a short grey beard, the other a strippling youth with lank greasy blonde hair. The swatted at each other with wooden practice swords. The veteran's blade cracking hard against the boys wrist and raising a yelp and a cheer from the crowd. The veteran said something and shoved the boy towards a group of men, mostly young, leaning against the fence. A line of men, some sullen and hunched, some bright eyed and hopeful, waited for their turn to be tested.

"Those are the men who have been picked for the city watch," one of the guards told Inez helpfully. They seemed decent sorts, at least they had made no attempt to grope or assault her.

"You put criminals in your city watch?" she asked, intrigued. The guard snorted. 

"Some of our best baliffs started off as thieves, the inside line and all," he snickered. Inez shrugged, these Northerners were a strange lot and no mistake.

"What about that one?" Inez asked as she took her place in line, her sex attracting snickers and leers. She was a fine looking woman she knew, and young enough, even if she had packed alot into her twenty six summers. She met approving glances with haughty disdain. Her eyes fell upon a fit looking man sitting apart from the would be guardsmen. He had a red welt across his forehead but was grinning broadly regardless.

"Who is that?" she asked, nodding with her chin towards the happy man.

"The best fighters get guild apprenticeships, more money, travel, sign on bonus," the guard explained. Inez nodded thoughtfully at that considering her options.

It took a quarter of an hour for Inez to reach the front of the line. Most of the bouts she had seen ended quickly, disappointed country lads getting a whack across the shoulders and being sent on their way. A few of them were chosen to be guardsmen but no others joined the smiling man on his barrel. Inez curled her lip in disdain, a handful of Estainian lads would have shown them a thing or to in short orders.

"You havin' a fuckin' laugh?" the swordsmaster asked as Inez stepped into the dusty yard. She took one of the practice swords from the rack and made a few experimental swipes to get the weight. It was a little shorter than she was used to, but the weight was just right.

"Why don't you run off home sweetheart, your liable to get hurt if you stay here," he sneered, eliciting laughter and cat calls from the onlookers. Inez was careful to appear inept, gripping the sword loosely with a limp wrist.

"Its too far to run, and who would want to leave all this. The stinking shit... and then there is the dung as well," she mocked taking a deep breath of shit smelling air and giving him a mocking smile. The swordmaster spat a gob of spit into the dirt and took up his stance.

"Reckon I'm gonna enjoy this," he snickered. Inez doubted that very much. He took a step towards her raising his sword. There were a lot of ways to use a sword, and Inez should know, her father had employed a half dozen swordmasters, each with a different technique. He had spent a fortune dotting on his daughter and her passion for swordplay and it had paid for itself time and again over the years. Transforming instantly, her grip hardened into a proper fighting stance and she leaped forward, catching his blade between the guard and blade of her own weapon and twisting into him like a dancer. He was tired, even if beating up farm boys took little effort, but Inez was quick as lightning. She twisted her blade hard, wrenching at his sword and lashing out with her elbow, cracking him on the point of the chin. He reeled back, spitting blood, the sword clattering to the dirt. With a dramatic flourish she tapped him on the head with the training blade for good measure, raising a chorus of cheers and groans from the crowd. The division was more or less along wagering lines, but there seemed a general feeling that the swordsman was a little too full of himself.

"You poxy bitch!" the swordmaster cried in shock, he stepped forward and picked up his sword, coming at her for real this time, launching a series of cuts at her head. Inez hadn't earned a reputation on cheap tricks alone though. There were those who called her Black Inez and Inez the Hellcat, though those people were hundreds of miles away and most of them wanted her dead. She parried his first few strokes with a left right series of downward parries, allowing her shorter stride to foul her opponents footwork. He over balanced slightly and then she was on him, all blazing speed and precise strikes, each blow pushing her opponent into a wider guard, keeping her point inside his arc. The swordmaster backed away, off-balance, panicked by the fury of her assault. She feinted left, cracked her blade down on his wrist then struck his blade from his hand with casual ease. 

"Bitch!" he cursed clutching his wrist the swordmaster growled and reached for the sword.

"Enough!" A richly dressed man was crossing the field, expensive robes glittering with gold thread. 

"Your eminence, we are still conducting..." but the new comer was having none of it.

"I think our young lady has shown enough of her mettle, certainly any more and we might need to find a new swordmaster," he chuckled as though the joke were hillarious.

"Come with me young lady, we will take you to the guildhall," he explained, then paused wrinkling his nose and taking in her overall disheveled condition. "After we visit the baths I think."