ow. Lárus spoke in the middle of the circle. By his side, Halldór stood with her sword in his hands. Sheltering in the shadow by a house, Reiko studied them. They towered above her, but their movements were clumsy and oafish like a trained bear. Nawi had better training than any here.
Her son. Sudden anxiety and rage filled her, but rage invited rash decisions. She forced the anger away.
With effort, she returned her focus to the men. They had no awareness of their mass, only of their size and an imperfect grasp of that.
Halldór lifted his head. As if guided by strings his eyes found her in the shadows.
He dropped to his knees and held out her sword. In mid-sentence, Lárus looked at Halldór, and then turned to Reiko. Surprise crossed his face, but he bowed his head.
"Li Reiko, you honor us with your presence."
Reiko climbed onto the stone circle. As she crossed to retrieve her sword, an ox of a man rose to his feet. "I will not sit h
This story is great. A warrior woman is ripped out of the past to fulfill the prophecies of 6000 years in the future. It isn't a sword and sorcery story, the characters are clear and real. And it's not just the priest who is bound, it's the heroine too.
It's a thoughtful story about fate.
Imagine Robert Howard writing tales of Conan the Barbarian with all the genders reversed.
The warrior woman, superior in every way to the weakling creatures with XY chromosomes, battles her way across a fantasy landscape threatening every male (both human and monster) within reach of her broadsword.