To the mercenaries, Eleonor's suruchin looked more like a fancy circus device than like a weapon, what with the weights at the ends of the chain flying around her like small, erratic, spiked moons.
But all smiles vanished when, suddenly and unexpectedly, one weight flew straight at her closest attacker, hit his shoulder, making him drop his sword and yell in pain, and then went back just as swiftly to its inconstant orbits around her.
Then *she* smiled.