With the Hawk occupied, Anji grabbed up the short sword the sergeant had dropped and gripped the hilt close to her chest, her manacles clinking. It felt marvelous, having a real weapon again, something with a point and an edge. She sprinted at the Hawk as she took the Captain’s head from his shoulders with one clean blow. But the Hawk stepped aside, letting her fly past to collide with one of the now-riderless horses. The horse nickered and danced away in its reigns, startling the other so they dragged the wagon forward a few paces. Anji spun away, the leather hilt soaked in sweat already. She gritted her teeth and sidestepped as the Hawk raised her blade, point poised straight at Anji’s chest.

“Don’t even think—”

Anji screeched and bound forward, lifting the sword’s edge high, aiming for the neck. The Hawk brought up her blade without taking a step, the clanging steel reverberating up Anji’s arms. Remembering her footwork, Anji cross-stepped and twirled the sword once in her fingers. The Hawk circled with her, one arm extended, her sword steady and shining.

“You can’t win,” she said, that insufferable mask and the voice behind it setting Anji’s blood to boiling.

With another yell, Anji leapt, striking once, twice, a third time. The Hawk was so fast. The calm, indifferent way she deflected each of Anji’s blows carried a silent insult, each parry a new flavor of shame. Anji spun, the sword raised, and brought it down with a strangled cry. The Hawk batted the steel from Anji’s hand and it tumbled end over end in the dirt. Anji scrambled after it and gripped the hilt, her breath like a bellows in her chest. She couldn’t see for the hate and embarrassment and filthy desire to end this woman and her maddening poise. With a final burst of rage, she rounded on the Hawk once more, tears blurring her vision.

Strong fingers gripped Anji’s wrist. With no thought, she lurched forward and sank her teeth into the meat of the Hawk’s gloved hand. The Hawk cursed as the acrid taste of boiled leather and sweat filled Anji’s mouth.

A blinding pain rang in her temple like a bell and she reeled back as her wrist was released, sword still clutched in one hand. She raised her manacles to cradle the agony blossoming in her head.

Anji stood still, chest heaving, and watched the Hawk step toward her, flexing her bitten hand.

“Drop it,” said the Hawk, her sword still leveled at Anji. “Now.”