CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Around Sebastian, men died, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. They died as musket balls and arrows struck them. They died as the New Army’s men charged in with swords and pikes. The sand around him turned to a bloodstained mess, and there was no sign of its cessation.
Sebastian saw a man fall as an arrow struck him through the chest, another cut down by the sweep of a sword, and then there was no time to think, because the rush of men reached him.
He drew his sword and shoved aside a pike, getting in close to strike back at an opponent and feeling the blade sink in. There was very little art to it this close, just a frantic stab and the hope that it would be enough. His opponent’s eyes widened as he struck, and the man fell.
Another stepped forward quickly
