He clutched at her wrist but she avoided him, and he swung a half-arm blow at her face as she swung away. This was no time for any chivalrous methods of fighting. She meant murder.

She held off for a second, her face flushed, her hair dishevelled, her breath coming in quick, sharp gusts. She watched him warily and as he cautiously swayed towards her she leapt at him again. This time, however, he was ready. He parried the vicious blow that she aimed at his heart with his arm, and catching her by the waist flung her with all his force backwards to the floor.