“Your women are dying,” Rastaban said.
Shanka spun, slashed at his ribs.
He dodged, struck back, but she sidestepped neatly.
“So are your men.”
“By the time this night is done, your army will be gone.” Rastaban lunged and caught her across the ribs, but her armor took most of the blow. “Shouldn’t you be leading them?”
Shanka switched her sword to one hand, drew her knife with the other. “Only because your men fight on vengeance and lies. My women fight for their nation.”
Rastaban was surprised she was that strong, but he was just as fast as her.
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