If You Say So

Shanka watched Rastaban and the men flee, then glanced at Malia, her lieutenant.

Malia snorted and tipped her helm back down, signalled for the women to begin moving the corpses, search them for useful weapons and armor.

“That was disappointing,” she said. “After all we’d heard about the grand General Rastaban.”

“He’ll be back,” Shanka said. “Continue.” She turned away, tipped her helm back down and headed for the edges of the field. A soldier fell into step beside her, and a man’s voice spoke from behind the anonymous helm.

Old Master. “He’s the one.”

“If you say so, Master.”