at these so called warriors. They are the lowest of sweepings with no conception of honor and fighting.

Quickly I begin my work. And work it is. There is no joy in this. I understand all too well that there is no honor either.

Cut, smash, thrust, block. Wind Dancer is like a boon companion, rearing, kicking and accounting for two or three of these vermin himself.

As in all fights, there comes a brief lull and I look to see what is happening with the others. My horrified eyes behold my Queen fighting to save her life.

A howl erupts from my lips and I charge forward, swinging my sword and shield at Her attackers. They seem startled by my appearance, giving me time to insure they are dispatched to the next world.

Wind Dancer rears and paws the air in front of Her to someone watching it must seem showing off. Instead it is me stopping him from killing her. I am always grateful for our bond, but never more so than now. I place myself in front of her and guard her throughout the rest of the brief engagement.

I will have to have a word with Aonghais about not protecting Miranda by sending her back with the wagons. He is the War Lord after all and therefore should be capable of making these decisions. She should have gotten them and obeyed them.