The blood dripping down his arm made his grip slick and the blade more difficult to wield. He squinted his eyes under the noon sun, blinking as the occasional bead of sweat dripped from his brow, threatening to steal focus from the assorted band of assailants that cornered him at the mouth of the river near his home. They'd come in flag bearing legions just as the sky had opened up to daybreak. On horse and on foot they'd arrived through the valley pass with angry, swollen hearts, thirsty metal and faded patience and thus, there would be no heed paid to the words of men.
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