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The loud voices of his men came from below his window. He had not slept a wink. His muscles sore from fighting his men all might. In the moon light.

They patrolled the fields and boundaries till dusk.

No legionnaire slept. They should be ready.

Edgar sat on his window pane. He endured to draw blood. That of the Kiro king.

long since he'd felt the excitement of a raw battle. Of force and a good fight. Not conquering weak townlets.

He could taste the war on his lingo. Men would fall, but Kiro would be no more. He'd purify the land if the council couldn't. He would. He would.

The pest would come a story. History told to children to avoid the night. He'd make sure of it

The morning air was sticky. patches of snow drifted onto his room from the open window. His fire place raging. reflecting his feelings.

The manor house was quiet. The maids and man retainers watching quietly as he and the soldiers fought all night. They knew. They knew battle was upon them. He'd heard the wails of