Rastaban spun around - and stared. The woman who stood before him might have been General Shanka but for the simple linen shift she wore and the baby she bore in her arms.
The little child peered up at him and gurgled happily.
Rastaban was quite sure that General Shanka couldn’t smile so sweetly.
“What brings you to our village? We have little food, but you are just in time for the festival of the new moon, if you would like to share our hearth fire.”
Rastaban summoned his most charming smile. “So generous of you, kind stranger. Your name is...?”
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