The rogues charged in a guttural roar, a wave of steel and hatred crashing toward the woman who had just killed their leader.

Meanwhile, she didn't flinch.

As the first man reached her, swinging a heavy rusted cleaver, Morvienne stepped inside his guard, grabbed his wrist, and twisted it until the bone snapped with a wet pop, then she slammed her palm into his chin, the force shattering his jaw and sending him crashing to the ground.

She immediately ducked under a sword swing that came from another, grabbed the attacker's hair, and slammed his face into the jagged edge of a nearby rock. Blood sprayed across her cheeks, warm...