Edmund watched the enemy cavalry intently, his heart still pounding in his chest, but this time, a smile began to creep onto his face. It was a small, tight smile—the kind worn by those who have stared into the abyss, accepted their fate, and now find every moment after to be a curious gift.
At first, just one rider moved, breaking from the ranks as if drawn by some irresistible force. Edmund couldn't tell if it was a proud nobleman looking for glory, or perhaps a mercenary hungry for loot, already eager to claim his share.
Does it matter? Edmund thought, his smile widening slightly. One fool is all it takes.
