Did not intend to force learning upon him? Did not intend to educate him, more likely. It was pandering, pure and simple. Discipline did not precede freedom, and without the former the latter was useless, animalistic. Not the most pleasant of sentiments, but there it was. She met the squire's eyes. Was the comment intended as an excuse? A justification? Whatever his reasons, he did not argue the point. Shall we put off your training until you feel inclined towards it, Ironheart?
His expression gave nothing away. How much had Logan taught the boy? Discussions during bouts, at the point of a blade? It was difficult enough to keep track of an opponent's sword during exchanges, much less absorb anything more complex than the next jarring impact. With that big axe Altos carried, that would have been no meagre feat. Her eyes wandered across the table, weathered timber knotting and curling across the surface.
"Ser Logan is welcome to speak to me if he has any concerns." Isana almost hoped he would. She would have liked to discuss the man's teaching technique, or lack thereof. "The same extends to you, should you wish to discuss the matter before Summer. I have an apartment on third tier. I am not often there, but leave a note under the door and I will receive it soon enough." Storms. The boy couldn't read and she'd just asked him to leave a note. Outstanding. This was already promising to be a wonderful working relationship. "Alternately, I expect one of the pages will be able to relay a message."
Isana wondered how long it would be before a page arrived to inform her that Tyr had drunk himself to death. Soon, she hoped, but it was a faint kindling of a thought that quickly burnt itself away. No doubt that the man was a nuisance but the last thing the city needed was more death.
The squire was almost supernaturally still as he made his subtle bid for escape. Remarkable, how some people grew motionless were others fidgeted. Ironheart, it seemed, was one of still ones. Like a stone holding back a river. So, there was some discipline hiding in there after all. Perhaps Logan's teachings, whatever they had been, had not been completely without merit. Isana wondered how quickly the squire would shoot forward once he had the chance.
"That will be all thank you. You are dismissed." She slung the journal under her arm, collected the seeds, and turned to the wall to collect her spear, all the while mentally counting the seconds.
One... Two...
His expression gave nothing away. How much had Logan taught the boy? Discussions during bouts, at the point of a blade? It was difficult enough to keep track of an opponent's sword during exchanges, much less absorb anything more complex than the next jarring impact. With that big axe Altos carried, that would have been no meagre feat. Her eyes wandered across the table, weathered timber knotting and curling across the surface.
"Ser Logan is welcome to speak to me if he has any concerns." Isana almost hoped he would. She would have liked to discuss the man's teaching technique, or lack thereof. "The same extends to you, should you wish to discuss the matter before Summer. I have an apartment on third tier. I am not often there, but leave a note under the door and I will receive it soon enough." Storms. The boy couldn't read and she'd just asked him to leave a note. Outstanding. This was already promising to be a wonderful working relationship. "Alternately, I expect one of the pages will be able to relay a message."
Isana wondered how long it would be before a page arrived to inform her that Tyr had drunk himself to death. Soon, she hoped, but it was a faint kindling of a thought that quickly burnt itself away. No doubt that the man was a nuisance but the last thing the city needed was more death.
The squire was almost supernaturally still as he made his subtle bid for escape. Remarkable, how some people grew motionless were others fidgeted. Ironheart, it seemed, was one of still ones. Like a stone holding back a river. So, there was some discipline hiding in there after all. Perhaps Logan's teachings, whatever they had been, had not been completely without merit. Isana wondered how quickly the squire would shoot forward once he had the chance.
"That will be all thank you. You are dismissed." She slung the journal under her arm, collected the seeds, and turned to the wall to collect her spear, all the while mentally counting the seconds.
One... Two...
