SEVENTEEN
Rudolf woke to someone trying to yank his head off.
"One, two, three, pull!"
No, make that two someones.
"Stop, you hellspawn whoresons! You'll pull my head clean off my shoulders!" he roared.
"Will you listen to that? He's not dead, after all. The king will be pleased."
Rudolf couldn't see through his helm any more, so he reached up to take it off. The steel wouldn't budge. A careful examination revealed a sizeable dent that ran from his eye to his mouth. If he hadn't worn a helm the blow would have killed him.
"Right, let's try this again. You pull, and I'll try to manoeuvre it so that it actually comes off without taking my head off, too," Rudolf said.
An eternity of tugging, face-pulling and swearing later, a third man joined in the fray, shoving down Rudolf's sh
