An expert disarm left Azka’s hands empty and her axe in the constable’s grip.
“Enough?” he taunted.
A whip of the she-orc’s long, plaited hair braid cracked his nose with the iron band on its end.
She snatched back her weapon as he reeled. “Not yet. You?”
Copyright © 2019 by Jason H. Abbott, All Rights Reserved.
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