Three of the baron's mercenaries charge onto the square at a gallop. The leader wheels his horse so brutally that it rears onto its hind legs, grazing dangerously close to the old man. His gaze catches on Romi. A dirty grin steals across his face as he sizes her up like prey. He signals his men.

All three dismount at once. The leather of their armor creaks as they move slowly toward Romi, forming a loose half circle. Their leering eyes make their intentions unmistakably clear. The leader steps close to her and uses the shaft of his heavy mace to lift her chin roughly. "Well, what exquisite piece of meat do we have here?" he booms, while his men laugh crudely.

Romi doesn't move until the mercenary raises his mace for the first strike. Her hands snap simultaneously back over her shoulders. Drawing the katanas breaks through the silence of the square with a single, dangerous hiss. Before the attacker can even come close to completing his swing, she stands unshaken. Both blades are lowered at a deep, perfect angle, the steel catching the dull light.

As the first mercenary swings his saber, she ducks beneath the strike. Her right katana flashes. The steel cuts through the man's leather harness as if it were parchment. Without a sound he collapses and lies still. At the same moment she parries the second attacker's sword with her left blade. With a short, hard twist of her wrist, she applies the leverage of her martial art. An ugly crunch of breaking bone sounds as she shatters the man's arm. Before he can retreat, she completes the turn; her blade finds the gap between helmet and breastplate. He too collapses without a sound.

Three men lie in the dirt. There's no more groaning, only the silence of death.