_Outskirts of Valencia_
The messenger kicked his horse furiously, bent over with his nose brushing it's mane to avoid the arrows raining down, his hair streaming out behind him. Several armed riders were in his wake, supposedly his royal guard, who had turned out to be traitors in disguise. Smoke billowed from somewhere north, clouding the sky. Arhus noticed that the smoke was green...magic users ..
The fury of them having the guts to set a village on fire gutted him. 'Come on Narek...go faster..we have to reach Valencia and inform the king of the situation at the warfront...' he groaned, thinking of his comrades who he had seen slaughtered.
Narek howled in pain. Arhus raised his head an inch to examine the horse, which was now galloping with difficulty. His heart almost stopped.
'No! Magic users after me??.. Narek, you have to endure this, ...'
Arhus' heart throbbed in his chest. Involuntarily the image of a red harired woman swam before his eyes. She was laughing. Her eyes glinted with mirth. Suddenly her expression changed. Arhus could see her starring in horror at something...she mouthed some words...his name. She was calling him.
From behind one of the pursuers kicked Narek. The horse reared and fell into the mud, throwing Arhus off. He scrambled up pulling out his sword as all six pursuers fell upon him. A bloody battle ensued. The bandits were all masked, and dressed in mail shirts.
'Die!' he screamed as he parried their blows. With a unified move six swords thrusted into his body. Arhus fell to the ground, blood spluttering from his mouth. One of the masked warriors raised his sword for the final blow.
'For the new Valencia!'
Blood spurted from his wounds and mouth as he took his final breath.
.....
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