“She will see them now,” he said, opening the door.
Barlo was shoved forward, and it took a moment for him to take in his surroundings. The large building was some kind of storage house that had been emptied. A large group of men and several women holding swords were working their way through a series of maneuvers as a female voice shouted instructions. Barlo saw the owner of the voice walking between rows of fighters, stopping occasionally to correct a stance or give praise. Her shining, dark hair only came to her jaw in a bob cut. She was taller than most of the other people in the room, and moved with a lithe grace, that seemed to draw all eyes to her. She wore a gleaming, chain mail shirt beneath a surcoat of deep blue.
She approached at a sedate walk, her green gaze taking in Barlo
