Chapter 1
The night was young,
And the moon was crisp.
The stars shone bright,
Beyond clouds of wisp.
Through the woods,
The knight did walk,
Swift and slow,
The knight did stalk.
The trees were bare,
Leaves on the ground,
The knight stepped careful,
And made not a sound.
His armour was light,
Twice as hard as pure iron,
His chest plate ornate,
Adorning rampant lion.
His blade, it was sharp,
Fit for the highest of kings.
It cuts and it slashes,
It bites and it stings.
Deep in the woods,
A wolf's mate cried.
Mourning for friends,
Killed side by side.
Under his helm,
The knight gave a smile,
And thought of the wolves,
Dead in a pile.
A fowl too screeched,
The adversarial spy,
As it swooped down fast,
Craving knight eye.
The Bird was fast,
Its talons drawn,
Its courage was high,
This far from dawn.
The knight turned fast,
And just in time,
His sword draw lightning,
Up in a line.
A shot of feather,
A spurt of blood,
The lifeless head,
Rolled through the mud.
The bird dispatched,
He moved on t'ward,
His foe on hill,
And golden horde.
The rain came down,
From clouds unseen,
Washing his armour,
All shiny and clean.
The knight gave a chuckle,
His odds were not great,
With the weather against him,
And an enemy of hate.
He lurked in the shadow,
Of the trees broke and old,
And prepared his assault,
YOU ARE READING
Night Blades and Morning Blood
FantasyA young, witch-hunting assassin faces a changing world fraught with enemies. But who will get to him first; the witches, the invading foreign army, the wraith assassin hot on his heals or a man of the brotherhood he once trusted. He'll need all his...
