Chapter one: part 3

“Stop right there!”
The woman's authoritative tone was reflected in her confident and commanding stance . She stood facing the two surprised combatants, her demeanor stern, her long, dark hair pulled back and tightly bound with a length of soft leather. The watching crowd stared, open-mouthed, at her, stunned that a woman could, at once, be so beautiful and yet radiate such power, be possessed of such a commanding presence.
She strode towards the big warrior, a sword, nearly as tall as she was herself, strapped to her almost-bare back, her naked, sensual form barely concealed by the ceremonial garb of the city lord's personal guard. She stopped directly in front of the mammoth man who fought to keep his eyes on her's rather than wandering across the distracting curves of her perfectly-defined body.
“What is the meaning of this?” As she spoke, the watching crowd began to drift away, the show over and the authorities present, this no longer seemed like a good place to be, “You are a champion Yan'buru, a warrior-elite of the Pagoda of Elements,” She spat the last words out as though disgusted that such an honourable title be bestowed upon one such as the man who now stood before her, “You dishonour yourself, you dishonour your temple, you dishonour your lord... You dishonour your city!”
Surprise crossed Yan'Buru's face at the sound of his name.
“Yes Yan'buru,” She emphasized the name, “I know who you are. Unlike some fools I could mention I don't blunder into a situation without knowing who the players are.” She nodded at the old man, who, Yan'buru just noticed, was chuckling.
Turning back to Yan'buru, undaunted by his towering height, she continued her castigation of him, “Have you any idea who this man is? Or do you just habitually assault respected elders without concern for their identities.. Or their titles?”
Something about the emphasis she placed on the word 'titles' concerned the warrior. Who was this old man?
Trying to form a reply, Yan'buru clumsily stumbled over his words while the woman watched, content to let him make a fool of himself for a while longer before interrupting.
“It matters not what you say to me warrior.” her response to his stuttering mumble was short and to the point, brooking no interruption, “Your fate is in this distinguished elder's hands now. Ask him for forgiveness, though lords know you deserve naught but swift punishment.”
Yan'buru swallowed hard, a dry lump forming in his throat, in the city states of the northern continent, “swift punishment” could mean only death and if this woman truly was one of the city lord's personal guards, she would be more than capable of delivering such a punishment, or at least have access to someone who was.
Yan'buru looked down, apologetically, at the still-sniggering old man, he could feel his ire rising at the mere thought of apologising to, what he perceived as, a deluded old fool without honour, dignity or respect. 'Then again,' he thought to himself, 'the lord's guard did mention a title.' He knew that if he had assaulted, not only a repected elder, but a respected elder in possession of a title there could be very serious repercussions.