Haimya was a thing of beauty and terror alike as she made a thrust at full stretch, driving the point of her sword into the base of the attacker’s skull. Even in the darkness, Pirvan saw life go out of the man’s eyes—and also a fallen attacker roll over and grip Haimya’s ankles.

Caught off balance, she staggered, and another man came at her with two daggers, getting inside her guard before Pirvan could even open his mouth for a warning. But a sailor stamped down hard on the clutching hands, and as they released their grip Haimya flung herself to one side, cushioning her fall on the man who’d thrown her off balance.

The sailor’s sword ended the second man’s threat to Haimya.

Then Pirvan’s mouth went dry, as running feet thudded from the direction of the harbor. He turned, knowing that the wall at his back would buy him only time and hoping Haimya would fight close enough to him for a last word or two, if they could not hope for a touch—