Amidst the battle.

Martin’s bones shuddered as the warhammer hit landed on his pauldron. He clenched his jaw and stepped aside, making distance from his opponent. Another guy was in plate armor from head to toe, on his shield was a golden bull on a black field. Duke Gavin. He gritted his teeth and took a stance.

Both their horses lay dead a few paces back and forth from the place where he stood. Surrounding clangs of metal to metal, roars, and soul ripping screams of dying vanished. Only his heavy breath echoed in his helmet. Vision narrowed to opponent ahead.

Martin took a blade of his longsword at its middle like a spear and pressed forward. He ducked under the hammer hit, but not fast enough. Bell echoed in the head as a hammer grazed his helmet. He didn’t stop, smashing the guard of his sword underneath duke’s chin. That’s why you are wearing a gorget! Duke’s cough reached his ears, then he lost the ground underneath as duke threw him through his side.

He landed flat on the ground, sword flew out of his hand in the mud, air left his lungs. He gasped. Shining of the metal saved his life as he jerked his head out of the duke’s dagger way. He hammered Gavin’s helmet with his fist once, twice, and threw him to the ground.

They both struggled to their feet, daggers in hands. His wheezing was all that he heard, Gavin was the only person he was seeing. His heart drummed against his ribs in a war march. Primal savagery rose from the bottom of his soul to his throat and out as a blood freezing war cry.

They grappled, both trying to shove their dagger in openings and keep the other one at bay. Martin battered Gavin into the head with his, one more bell toll. His opponent weakened grip. It was enough. Blood spattered onto his gauntlet and Duke choked on his blood.

Gavin looked at him through the visor of his barbute. Eyes are little slits of fire. He jabbed Martin in the head, pressed forward and kept hitting him until they fell and the dagger dug into Gavin’s neck even deeper. Moments later Duke went still and Martin threw him off.

He staggered on his feet, and triumphant roars greeted him. There was no enemy left around. They won the battle.