Waiting For Blood

Two recently appointed soldiers stood guard at the camp's main gates. They could see a rider approaching swiftly from a distance. One of the guards approached the rider, wondering as to what orders the rider had received.

Closer scrutiny revealed that the rider was not one of his comrades, and he swiftly lifted his spear to engage, only to have it smashed by the enemy's blade.

The two soldiers might have been slain sooner if the adversary had not been in such a hurry to flee.

The rider riding the stolen horse sped by the two guards without a mount and successfully exited the camp.

The two soldiers sprinted for their horses, one readying his spear to throw, cursing as they rose up from the impact of the attack, but they could do nothing except watch as the enemy galloped out of their fire range.

I arrived quickly and snatched the spear from the guard's grasp before resuming the chase.

I was around 100 meters away from the fleeing opponent at the time, and I wasn't sure I could hit my t