The first duel was the worst. Ciaran had heard of the warrior women who painted themselves blue and screamed down the walls of enemy cities, but he had thought, as had the other lads in the village, that they were just stories. He’d seen grizzled warriors in the village, taking on a huntsman or woodsman for money, and they were fierce fighters, strong and fast.
Brenna...moved like wind and water, every motion smooth, almost as if she was dancing and the sword was her partner...or part of her.
But Ciaran trained hard, in every spare moment he had.
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