“The human soldiers, you fought them?”

“Yes, Master.”

“How was their armor marked? Their shields?”

“The shields were marked with words and a sword, Master,” Tur-uck said. “I do not know the words. Their armor had a device of an eagle, here,” he said, indicating the left breast.

“Blood Lords,” Chansa snarled. “Very well. Tur-uck, you are made a sub-leader as of now. Of course, you must fight to retain your position, but you have it. Good job coming back; I’m willing to accept that it was not for lack of courage.”

With that the True Master strode away and Tur-uck sagged in relief.

“I would have had your head off for disobeying orders,” the Lesser Master snarled.

“I live to serve, Master,” Tur-uck said, falling to hands and knees. “My neck is yours to strike.”

“Get up,” the Lesser Master said. “Your life is Marshal Chansa’s to take and his decisions I don’t question. I’ll assign you a sub-group. Don’t fisk up or I will have your head.”

“Yes, Master,” Sub-leader Tur-uck replied, rising to his feet and admitting that maybe he wasn’t having such a bad day after all.

Chapter One

As the axe clanged off his shield, Herzer knew he was having a bad day.

His opponent was as fast as he was and darned near as tall and strong. Furthermore, Herzer had never in his life fought someone who used an axe with such effectiveness. The weapon had a meter and a half metal-covered shaft and his opponent used it as a combination of quarterstaff and axe to great effect.

Herzer Herrick was a young man just nearing his twenty-fifth birthday, a shade over two meters tall and broad in proportion, with black hair and dark green eyes that, as now, slitted into fiery intensity when he was in combat. His face had a long scar on the cheek and more scars crisscrossed his unguarded forearms, visible proof of his many battles.