The sword was too light.
The one-handed sword she had seized from a Karstark officer felt like a toy in Brienne's hand.
Its blade was much shorter, and its guard was scarcely wide enough for her palm.
Every slash felt awkward. She was better with a greatsword, or, failing that, an Arming Sword.
She needed a heavy weapon into which she could pour her whole strength, not this flimsy strip of iron.
Four Karstark officers surrounded her, their blades attacking in turn from different directions.
Brienne turned sideways to evade a sweeping cut, then raised her sword to block an overhead blow.
Metal clashed, and her strength knocked her opponent's sword aside, but that was all.
She could not knock an enemy's weapon clean away with a single blow as she usually did. This sword was too light to put her strength behind it.
The officers soon spotted her disadvantage.
They kept her surrounded, probing with steady, patient attacks like wolves hunting a large beast.
Brienne had to protect Arya behind her. She dared not charge forward, afraid that even the slightest opening would let an enemy slip past.
For the moment, they had her pinned down.
One officer's gaze passed over Brienne and settled on Arya, whom she was shielding behind her.
He exchanged a look with the man beside him and said quietly, "Babb, we'll keep this woman busy. You grab that Stark girl and avenge the old earl."
Brienne heard him.
She saw him skirt the fight while she was tied down and lunge straight at Arya.
Brienne's pupils suddenly contracted. "Arya!"
She tried to turn back to help, but the three men before her immediately pressed their attack, their blades cutting off her path.
Brienne had to retreat a step. A blade grazed her unarmored knee,