As she mused, she heard footsteps approaching from behind, and by the time she was turned, the dwarf warrior was charging her. There was something in his eyes that warned her there was no time to be spent on discussion. He carried a short sword and swung it with deadly intent.

Sandreena managed to roll out of the way, come to her feet, slipping her shield off with a single motion and reversing it so she could slip her arm through the straps on the back, and had her sword up just in time to block the dwarf’s following strike.

The shock that ran through her arm as she took that blow made her realize this was no mean swordsman she faced, but an experienced dwarven warrior who was offering no quarter. She had never faced one before, not even in a practice melee, and their fortitude and prowess were renowned. She knew she could not wear him down; he could fight until she collapsed from fatigue and then dance on her grave. She certainly could not overpower him, and she doubted she could disable him. Her only hope was a quick kill.

Two strikes and the dwarf hesitated, and Sandreena saw his eyes were slightly unfocused. More, she was nearly overwhelmed by an unexpected realization. She had fought in more than a score of life-or-death battles, and three times those against men whom she was trying to subdue. She had experienced every type of male body stench, and a few females’, and thought nothing of it, but there was something here she had not anticipated: this dwarf stank like a demon.

He sent a skull-crushing overhand blow at her and overextended slightly. In that moment, she noticed a talisman hanging from a leather cord around his neck. It was a foul thing with red glowing stones for eyes and that’s where the demon stench originated.

She danced away and rather than take his head from his shoulders—the opening was there—she turned her blade and struck him with the flat of her sword on the side of his head. It was like hitting a tree bole and the shock that ran up her arm nearly numbed it to the shoulder.

The dwarf barely blinked and came straight at her. She hesitated only a moment, then leaped to her left, right into the dwarf’s next blow, but rather than take it anywhere vital, she crouched under it—no mean feat against a foe barely taller than five feet—then came up behind him.

Before he could turn, she reached out and snatched at the leather thong holding the talisman in place. She ripped it from him and tossed it away.