Better Part

Rastaban must have hesitated too long, because one of the women caught his men by the hair and yanked his head back, ready to slit his throat.

Shanka barked a command, and for the moment Rastaban’s men were still alive. She met his gaze, yellow eyes bold, and for a fleeting moment Rastaban saw shadows in her eyes. Then she leveled her sword at him and said,

“Choose. Or die.”

Rastaban sucked in a deep breath. Of all he’d learnt from Rami, this was hardly something he’d prepared for. He knew that retreat was sometimes the better part of valour.