Flash Fiction: To Be Fair, He Was Axing for It

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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