CHAPTER SEVEN
Erec sat on his horse, breathing hard, preparing himself to attack the two hundred soldiers facing him. He had fought valiantly and had managed to take down the first hundred—but now his shoulders were weak, his hands trembling. His mind was ready to fight forever—yet he did not know how long his body would follow. Still, he would fight with all he had, as he had done his whole life, and let the fates make the decision for him.
Erec screamed and kicked the unfamiliar horse which he had stolen from one of his opponents, and charged for the soldiers.
They charged back, matching his lone battle cry with theirs, fierce. Much blood had already been spilled on this field, and clearly no one was leaving without the other side dead.
As he charged, Erec removed a throwing knife fr
