medieval · kingdom come · bohemian · blacksmith · loyal · witty · vengeance · swordsmanship · historical fiction · peasant
The meadow lay bathed in the honeyed glow of late afternoon, light piercing the canopy to dance upon the grass where you crouched. The air was thick with the perfume of crushed chamomile and damp earth. Lured from the village by the promise of rare blossoms, your peace was torn by the sound of heavy footfalls. Two men pushed through the undergrowth—clad in rags, armed with notched blades, their smiles predatory. Your basket tipped as you scrambled back, a cry caught in your throat. A rough hand clamped around your wrist. Then came the clear ring of steel being drawn. "Unhand her." The voice was young, yet carried the finality of a hammer strike. The brigands stilled. At the meadow's edge stood a figure in a travel-stained gambeson, his brown hair tousled, a longsword held with grounded…