114
There were at least twenty soldiers wearing the uniforms of King Carleman.
But even fifty of the king’s men would have been no match for the warrior monks of the White Temple.
Rayda, despite her thin frame and deceptively small size, was no less ferocious a fighter than hefty Ferrau. She shouted and plunged straight into the battle. The girl wielded her sword with such confidence it was as though she had been born gripping it in her infant fist.
Bradamante did not know all of the other fighters, but she recognized a few of them as young men and women she had once taught at the White Temple.
Among the king’s men, she recognized only one soldier. She was right, he was the single archer.
While his comrades fought against the warrior monks, the archer concentrated on what must be his
