A beautiful woman graced the battlefield, clutching her infant to her chest. Surely such a pair did not belong in the hate of a battle, surrounded by bloodthirsty savages masquerading as warriors. Yet there she was, caught amidst a storm of swords, her and her child's life hanging in the balance. For Marinda was destitute, and it did not matter whether she died of starvation or a sword wound. With no other choice left to her, she threw herself into the fray.