Princess Theodora, accompanied by the last of her retinue, reigned in her horse to look back at Torben. She looked tired but unhurt, but the blood dripping down her curved blade spoke volumes on how hard she had fought to survive. Next to her, Captain Almar had a pained grimace stitched on his face, and he held his left arm awkwardly in front of his torso, a large bloodstain marring the armour and cloth around the armpit.
‘Torben, are you alright?’
‘Yes, I’m fine, thanks to you.’
‘Good, come on then. The others are a little way ahead.’ Theodora flashed him a broad smile and waited for him to draw level with her before setting off.
As they kicked their horses on, Almar leaned over to him, wincing through the pain as his horse jostled him about in the saddle.
‘Remember boy,’ he rasped,
