The old arena was now familiar to Chloe; this was her fourth visit in as many days. She was no longer in awe of the empty seats, filled with ghosts of the past, watching savage combat and howling for blood. Instead, she now saw it as her training ground, the place where she transformed from a healer and musician into something else altogether.

‘Come,’ Tomarys said. ‘I will crouch down, and you grab hold of my hair. People often use this to cause pain and immobilize an opponent, but I will show you how to take back control.’

She walked up behind him and with her right hand took a fistful of his dark hair, tied back behind his head with a thong. She grabbed it close to the root as hard as she could.

‘Argh,’ he grunted. ‘That hurts.’ She started to relax her hold. ‘No! Do not soften. If a man takes you like this, he will not be gentle.’

She gripped hard once more.

‘I will show you the move quickly, and then I will show it slow. Here it is.’

He slapped his hand down on hers, trapping her palm to the top of his head. He then brought his other arm into play and whirled. Chloe felt a burst of pain in her wrist. If he’d used all his strength, he would have broken her arm.

‘Did you see?’

‘Not really,’ Chloe admitted.

‘Slowly this time. Take my hair again. Good. Now watch. I clasp my hand over yours. This takes away your power to yank hard, immobilizing me with pain. That is the first step. I then crouch, sinking lower. This removes still more of your power to pull my hair, while removing some of your leverage. Your arm is no longer strong in this position. It feels awkward, does it not?’ He paused. ‘We will stop here. This is the important part.’

Chloe examined their postures. Her hand still gripped his hair, but he had his right hand on top of hers. He had allowed his body to sink, meaning her arm was angled more than it had previously been.

‘Now I still have one free hand. So I stiffen my hand like a knife. I bring my left hand behind my head, up and across. I place the knife between your hand and your wrist, where there is a joint.’ He moved accordingly. ‘Your arm is now mine. I spin, using the full force of my back and shoulders. I will do it slowly.’

He turned, keeping his stiffened hand against the joint of her wrist, still holding her hand clasped against his head. Pain grew in Chloe’s wrist, even with Tomarys moving at a snail’s pace.

‘The assailant now wants only to be free of the pain. When I complete my spin, even if I haven’t broken his arm, he will be nursing his hand. That is when I attack.’