My Dear Antonio,

Cobb sat in the corner grinning, while I reintroduced the art of Destreza to 3 of his men. My expectations were a bit too high for this lot. They were after all an elite troop, nonetheless. The sort that one sends to do the quiet, sensitive, and unfortunately necessary work that comes with all wars and matters of politics. Having a bit of experience here, I knew the vextent of the skills necessary of each man present. I knew how they were recruited, I knew how they were financed, I knew the dangers they faced.

They'd better damn well embrace the Art now, for all of love.

You would have groaned had you been there, Brother.

They gave each other uncertain looks, seemed to set themselves, and then launched at me with their attack. I disarmed the first two to approach within striking distance. A mock stroke across the throat of each let them know the extent of their role in the rest of the encounter.

Even I was alarmed at how easy it was. I could have done the same with the third, but held out for form, after all I was there to teach, wasn't I? I let my man make a few superficial cuts, keeping my ripostes to threatening gestures to his sword arm. He didn't seem to notice the vulnerability there.

At last, he came in with a violent lunge, showing a little pluck and elan he been hiding away somewhere -- I thought to myself, 'Ah! Bravo!'-- and I pivoted a bit out of the point's path, but inside his line. My free fist knocked wind from his sails and then the same hand caught up his blouse and with a quick change of angle I sent him flying onto his back.

The other students gasped. I paid no heed and stepped over the poor fallen cove. His eyes fluttered open at last and looked upon my sword point hovering just over his throat. For a moment I was truly glad of my chance to teach Cobb's crew. One rarely gets to stress this type of dangerous realism with young aristocracy.

To think that we were that fresh, that ill-footed, that...new.

So as not to bore you with the irritating, minutiae, let us say that we went through the basics again and again. The stances, the grips, the stokes, with and without the dagger, and so on and so forth.

Above all I stressed an eye toward the origin of all of this. I said 'Men, I am not showing you anything, my dear colleage Cobb has not already shown you to be sure. The problem is these techniques, this practice is a woman of virtue and she will not be joined by just any cove that looks upon her with longing. No, no, no. She is of exceptionally good family. Her line goes back to the beginning of time. Truth be told, a man can marry her and still not know her bed. She requires an enduring committment that supercedes all others, passion and grandeur like that of the mountains, resolve as deep as the sea.

I repeatedly reminded them to not just ape techniques both to embody the tradition that you and I have been chasing like horny goats for all these years. Hmmm, perhaps I didn't mention anything about goats.

For now I remain your humble chronicler of things somewhat interesting,

-- de Verdin

P.S. Cobb has invited the 2 of us to his club for drinks. Whatever shall I say?

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