The girl pulled out a small rough made knife. A tiny thing, not much more than a fragment of sharpened metal half wrapped in scrounge get leather.

His laughter bellowed throughout the halls. He raised the visor of his helm, and sneered at the girl. "And what, you little cunt, are you going to do with that wee thing?"

She looked up at him through the skein of hair falling over her face, gave him a small grin, and raised the knife to her own wrist.

Hours later, city guardsmen found two corpses. The mercenary's body was so ravaged as to be almost unrecognizea lie. The small bedraggled girl, emptied of all blood, looked to have been dead for days, not hours.