A Love Unveiled

Chapter One

Where the hell was Curran?

The man at his side shifted and Fallon jarred alert, shifting his attention to William, his liege.

"The time is now, Fallon "The Fury". Do you swear fealty to me and serve me now?" surprisingly William's voice was tranquil, but there was always a moment of quiet before the storm.

Fallon nodded, meeting William's dark, calculating stare. "Aye milord, until I am claimed by death, I shall serve you at best."

And forthwith, the battle commenced as Saxons hurled an unexpected flare of stones across the distance separating them, delivering painful and fatal blows to unsuspecting Normans.

Fallon gritted his teeth at a number of war cries and raised his shield to deflect the heavy pellets.

Along the front line, archers released a flurry of arrows in hopes of weakening the Saxon lines; this same strategy was repeated several times but barely made a mark, therefore pushing men on foot into battle, creating a remarkable shudder in the ground as the unmistakable sound of steel clashing against steel resonated through the air.

The shrieks and cries of warriors as they wielded and branded their weapons were frighteningly discernible, coating the soggy turf in red as belligerent blows rendered men hapless at the feet of others.

Fallon felt the fury that which he were befittingly entitled, rise to such a minatory degree as men he called kindred fell so quickly, their lives taken abruptly by spears tossed efficiently.

He glanced at William, watching the massacre with little to no emotion displayed, and felt his temper rising ever more.

"The enemy lines have not faltered." He shouted, watching as more Norman soldiers fell to the ground.

Men were slain mercilessly, taken down easily by relentless Saxon attacks. William's army began to diminish as the Saxon line remained firm without as much as a mark.

Fallon grew restless, forced to remain at William's side, having pledged his loyalty to protect his leader at all costs, but the carnage that continued left him feeling maddeningly useless.

Somewhere within that bloodbath, his brother along with several close allies, fought for the same purpose but as his eyes swept repeatedly over the combined armies, Curran and the others were no where to be found.

He gave one last intensifying look to William and extracted his sword, gripping the hilt with iron force as he spewed forth into the madness.

His agility kept him keenly aware of all his angles; he remained close to ensure that William's back was protected as he swept his sword in a full loop, severing a man in two, pausing only a fraction to readjust his grip and bring the blade about to pierce the heart of another.

As he swiveled around, his sword connected sharply with a Saxon blade. He brought his foot upward and shoved at the man's midriff, forcing the warrior backward onto his backside. From his peripheral, Fallon caught a large, familiar stature. He turned just to see Ranulf, ally from youth, stagger on his feet as two Saxon soldiers of similar size advance towards the large warrior.

Fallon released a nasty growl as he gathered his strength and rushed at his enemy. One of the men caught his livid frame charging toward him and turned half-way to intercept his attack. The other Saxon was momentarily distracted by his comrade that it gave Ranulf the opportunity to bring his axe down up the man, the devastating blow severing his head completely from his shoulders.