A week has passed and it is a bright winter day when the clouds have cleared up in the sky. The midday is not as hot as it usually is, not during winter. The sun just gave a bright but cold white light. A man on a horse rode faster than the winter wind. The hooves of the horse clacked on the icy brick road that leads to the palace. His eyes are widened and wary as he is eager to tell the purpose of why he came riding from the east.
“Your Grace!” he cried barging into the throne room with his face full of sweat.
“What is it?” she asked as she sits on her throne. Everybody else is alarmed by the sudden intrusion of the man but her.
The man knelt before her. He is a messenger and panted as he says, “Barbarians… they…” He gasped for breath. “They raided a week ago. They raided the village
