From the beginning, the fight is in Itza’s favor. She is smaller, but faster than Elveric. He’s been injured recently, something she uses to her advantage. Once he is down on the ground, the marshals stop the fight.
The marshals walked over, waiting for his decision. “She is in her rights to kill you, sir,” his man pointed out needlessly. “She offers you a chance to yield, do you accept?”
Elveric looked from Itza to each of the marshals and back at the tip of the staff. “I yield,” he croaked.
Itza stepped delicately onto the ground beside him, offering him her hand. “Call off your men, send them away.”
“What’s to prevent you killing me as soon as they do?” He was angry and it made him bold.
“My word as head woman of this village,” she spoke simply.
He spat at her feet, anger making him stupid. He…
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