Harlan's Tutelage

Harlan grinned at Alice, who did not grin back. "Yer gettin' good at this. Don't know why you won't pick up a blade, girlie."
He stabbed again with Shouldertapper, and Alice barely bounced away. It was a feint, and he kicked a clod of dirt straight into her face and stabbed again. She felt pain like lightning course through her body as he pierced her side with the enchanted mithril blade. She wiped the mud from her eyes before checking the wound in her flesh. He'd pulled at the last second, leaving a simple nick where a much more serious injury would have been.
"You getting off on this, Harlan?" she asked, spitting at his feet. "I'm eleven. You like stabbing little girls?"
"Hey, I ain't your tiezer," he said, the last word slipping into effortless cant for whipper. "I could dress you up and we'd have tea with pigs, but I ain't flag wavin' ta shouldertap perfectly good hired help." (I could tie you up and torture you, but I'm not planning to backstab a perfectly good accomplice.) He swiped high, and Alice effortlessly ducked.
"What's with the lay? I ain't no milch cow!" Alice retorted, slipping into cant herself (Why the real danger? I'm no fool!" She kicked out at his shins with a foot, but he jumped over it.
"Yer rum, Mort. Dimber Damber says yer ta be goosed good 'fore right fist's game." (You're good, lady. Boss says you're to be trained before next week's theft.) He feinted with his sword, but slapped her hard across the face. Alice spat on the ground, no blood.
"Why are we bleatin' rig, anyway? I'm smooth. I should be visiting the neighbors!" (Why are we stealing sheep, anyway? I'm quiet, I should be burglarizing.) Alice went low, punching at his groin. He danced away.
"Bleater king's a promise provendor, but he's missin' a party. It's not about the bits, it's about the kissing." (The shepherd is under our protection, but he's late with his payments. It's not about the money, it's about the respect.) He moved in, this time she caught on to his feint and blocked his slap. He grinned a toothy smile, and narrowly avoids a knee to his groin. 
"Ah ken. Sunny. I'm feeling lurched." (I get it. Fine. I'm feeling abandoned.) She pressed the attack, unleashing a flurry of blows that he easily deflected with the flat of his blade.
"Ye ain't lurched, muncher." He twisted as if attacking and tousled her hair instead. "Yer a kipper. Yer a picked button. Ye'll be a Princess Prig and a master butcher in no time." (You aren't abandoned, kiddo. You're a kid. You're a chosen one. You'll be a master thief and an assassin soon.) He stabbed low and to her surprise produced a dagger from somewhere and threw it at her face. She snatched it out of the air and flung it back at him, nicking his ear.
"Thanks, Harlan." She moved close and feinted a blow at his groin again. When he responded she slapped his face.
"No problem, muncher. Let's go get chilly sap." (You're welcome, kid. Let's go get ice cream.) He grinned at her and turned towards the door. When she moved to walk with him, he jerked backwards and plunged a dagger at her chest. She gasped and moved to the side just in time, and then growled in annoyance as he paused with his dagger skewering her vest. She huffed and pushed him away.