***
As Hakem Rafi lay stunned on the ground, the flights of arrows ceased and an army of brigands came out of the woods, yelling at the top of their lungs and brandishing deadly swords with every intent of using them. Nurredin al-Damasci was shouting orders, too, but Hakem Rafi did not believe they applied to him; he wasn’t a real soldier, after all, and couldn’t be expected to fight like one.
Nurredin was shouting, the prince was shouting, the brigands were shouting, the servants were shouting—everyone was shouting. The noise threatened to deafen Hakem Rafi even as it addled his meager brain. Everyone was running around, becoming a blur of motion. Hakem Rafi struggled with the unfamiliar armor as he pulled himself awkwardly to his feet again and tried to make some sense of this chaotic
