““The slave chain hissed along the ground as the men closed in around us. I kicked at it to keep it out from underneath my slippers, and one of the men—the taller of the first pair—swung a short-hafted pike at Elka’s head in an artless, horizontal slash. She ducked without blocking and shifted to the side, bending around my left flank so that I could move with her. I saw what she was doing and dropped into a crouch as she twisted. The man reared back again, and while his attention was focused on Elka, I sprang forward with a low, darting thrust that tagged him solidly on the upper thigh. He howled in pain, flinching as the point of my sword pierced his worn breeches and sank into the muscle there. I pulled my sword out and blood spilled down the front of his leg. It was the first time I’d ever wounded a man, and I felt a savage rush of excitement. “Not such easy meat as he thought.” Elka’s voice was in my ear, panting with fear or exertion—I couldn’t tell which. “That was nice, little fox.””
