The Legend of Fatality

Ambros was sleeping on the edge of the open space when he was attacked. The soldier rushed towards him from the woods across from the open space, the sword raised high, and thunderous footsteps sounded on the hard ground, waking him up. Ambrose fell asleep holding his sword, and when his attacker approached him, he rolled over and stood up.

His sword penetrated the soldier's chest as easily as when he killed Perkins. Then Ambros realized that the soldier was Perkins. The dying man cursed him, blood poured from his chest, he drew the sword in an arc, and Ambros knew that the arc would cut his head off. But he froze there, watching the sword fall. Then he woke up.

Ambros opened his eyes wide and sat up, sweating. He gasped, clutching his neck tightly, as if he didn't want the sword in his dream to stab it. The woods around him were silent. No attackers. Only him here. The only sound was his frightened breath.

He cursed and calmed his breath. Then he listened carefully to the sounds around him—he dreamed of the attack, but that didn't mean that Noyes's people were not nearby.

The air was silent.

Ambros stood up and paced in the open space and said to himself: "You can't be too careful," but he also knew that it was because he was afraid.

After Ambrose fled Bill Barry, Perkins attacked him every night, making Ambrose feel the same terror every time.

From a very young age, Ambrose imagined fighting and killing enemies; this is what all the children of the Bilbao nobles had hoped for since childhood. Ambrose had repeatedly imagined thrusting his sword at a Margarita soldier or even a Margarita lord. But Perkins is a Bill Pali. A member of the Wangjia Guard. Former comrades. Ambrose tried to tell himself that he did nothing wrong. He was challenged, he fought for his honor. Perkins was too confident to be deceived by his fake actions, and Ambrose was lucky, because if it were not so, he would be pierced by the sword in his chest.

Ambros took a sip of the water from the kettle and lay down again. He needs to sleep. He has been working hard for a long time, eating very little and resting very little. He closed his eyes, tried to clear his brain, and finally fell asleep again.

He dreamed that he was lying on the bed with Catherine. When he pulled her robe off her shoulder and kissed her neck, the curtain was surrounded by dark red.

She took his hand and gently touched the back of her hand with her fingertips, which was a touch he liked very much. But when she looked up at him, she turned to his father and said, "This hand killed a Bill Bally soldier. This is a traitor's hand."

Ambros was awakened. The sky is getting brighter. He was sweaty again. He walked tiredly to the river to wash his clothes. While walking, he cut the bushes with his sword and said to himself: "I am not a traitor. Catherine knows. My father is also like this. It is not their death Me. Either they or me. "

He wants to act with honor. This is what he wanted all his life. In order to fight well, to behave appropriately, and to protect his surname, he did all these things, but it was all ridiculously wrong. Because of Peverley, because of Noyes ... because of the king. Because now Bill Bally has no honor at all. They killed Annie and now want to kill him again.

Did Peverly really challenge Catherine because he saw him?

He is not sure.

But is his behavior decent to her?

Catherine wasn't even the object he expected, but he couldn't help thinking of her. He just thought about her. She got engaged to another man, but he dreamed that she was lying on his bed, sleeping with him, and loving him. But that is not his future; there is no past, and there will be no future. His future should be joining the army, but now it is impossible. He needs to find a different future for himself, but first he wants to understand the past. He wanted to know what happened to his sister.

So he walked northwest and wanted to escape Noyers and his men in the quiet place of Bill Barry, but his goal was to go to Fielding, which is very close to St. Louis City, that is far On the west coast, Anne was arrested there, and Sir Wald was killed there.

Ambros didn't know why his sister was going to Fielding, but he doubted that this might explain why she was actually executed. His sister was accused of having an affair with Sir Wald, but Ambrose did not believe it for a while. He knew that they had a brief gathering many years ago, but with no results, they still maintained a relationship that they both liked, that is, close friends and traveling companions.

They have been to many places together, and have been abroad for a long time, always coming back with stories from foreign countries. So why do they live in a small village on the west coast of Billy Bale? How could his sister be interested there? Ambrose wanted to see Fielding and find out. Even if he didn't find an answer, he wanted to say that he had tried it, and he didn't simply accept lies about his sister.

He returned to his humble camp and took out the last piece of cheese and ham he bought on the farm the day before. He counted his remaining money. Eight gold coins. It's not too much. However, he is not without resources. He has his most valuable possessions: his horse, saddle, sword and sword.

He bought an old jacket from a man in a village passing by. The skin was worn, but it was better than nothing. He kept the uniform guarded by the Wang family, just a cloak and a tight top, which he wore to keep warm at night. He didn't sleep in the inn, partly because he was afraid that Noyers would hear about him, and partly because he needed money to eat instead of sleeping.

He finished the last piece of cheese, put a saddle on the horse, and set off.

At noon, he walked out of the woods and came to a rolling grassland for sheep. He walked through a small village, bought some milk, ham and more cheese, and asked the local farmer about his way to Felding. The roads here are narrow, rocky, and bumpy, but in the afternoon, long before dusk, he reached the coast.

There are no signs of towns or villages here, only some thin, dirty sheep appear there, indicating that there is a farmhouse somewhere. However, this is a beautiful place. The sea is vast blue and gray, and the beach is wide and sandy. On the distant beach, Ambrose saw a figure. Ambrose rode through the sand, and the old man who had been digging the conch straightened up and watched him approach.

"Good afternoon," Ambrose said.

The man stared at him and nodded as an answer.

"I am looking for Fielding Village."

The old man laughed loudly. "You are a little late, aren't you?"

"Late? For what?"

The old man shook his head, then made a gesture to his left. "Over there. North. The camp is on the sand dunes. Those **** are there; the village was abandoned 20 years ago."

Ambrose didn't know what to say, but anyway, the man picked up his bucket of conch and left.

Ambrose rides north along the coast. The tension in his stomach is back. It could not be Neuss, otherwise his people would be here. But there is something here. Maybe it's about Anne. Perhaps all this led to her death.

When he saw the dunes in front, it was getting late. They were tall and wide, like a hill, and he could see several figures on the beach in the distance. In order not to be seen, he took a short cut and walked inland, and then rode north through a sandy land where several sheep were nibbling the poor grass.

It was getting dark, he walked through a few sparse trees and walked towards the place where he thought he saw the figure on the beach. He led the horse on the sand dunes. He heard several shouts and laughter in front. Ambrose heard a familiar and cordial voice in the barracks.

On a large flat low ground above the sand dunes, there are many tents and a few small fires. It looks like a typical military camp, except for one thing: all soldiers are boys. Some people look like fifteen or sixteen years old, but some people look much younger, but twelve or thirteen years old.

Ambros knew that many young people joined the army to get rid of poverty, but no one was allowed to swear allegiance to the lord before he reached adulthood like Ambros himself. When he was a little boy, he wanted to fight for Bill Barry. He played war games with Talkan, tracked and set up ambushes, camped for several days in a row, trained combat and equestrian. He was training in the army, his friendship with his comrades in the guard-those days, he recalled it with real happiness. But to acquire these skills that are used on the battlefield, you must learn from older soldiers. But there seems to be only children here.

This must be what his sister has seen, which is of course unusual, but it seems irrelevant: it is not news that boys are trained as soldiers at Bill Barry. So why did the king persecute Annie because of her?

Ambrose slowly approached in the dark. There was a group of boys beside the nearest fire. They were all wearing tight tops and seemed to be their uniforms. The two boys in the middle brandished wooden swords for practice, and the people around them all watched, and from time to time, they shouted appreciation and encouragement. The swordsmen were short and agile, and the swords and swords struck violently, which left a deep impression. They have been working hard. Ambrose knew how tiring it was to learn swordsmanship.

"Is it enough?" Ambrose felt a stabbing in the back.

Two of them, about thirteen or fourteen years old, are slender and muscular, wearing military uniforms, although there is usually a badge on the military uniform to identify their lord is a red cloth. Both are holding wooden practice spears.

Ambrose looked around. The two boys should be easy to deal with, but he wanted to know what happened. It's best to try to talk first.

"Boy, who is your commander?"

"Who is yours?"

Ambrose smiled. "Prince Peverly. I belong to the Royal Guard. Who are you with?"

The boy punched the red cloth on his clothes. "Red Turban. The strongest and the best." But he soon seemed very uncertain. "You are not wearing a uniform, sir. Are you here to see the captain?"

"Of course." Ambrose did not want to see any captain because the captain would know that he was not sent by Peverley.

"Ford. We have a guest."

The two boys with wooden swords came over. As they approached, Ambrose suddenly thought that it was not so easy to defeat them in a battle. The proud look when they came over seemed to indicate that they also knew this. One of them shouted: "What did you bring, Frank? More spies?"

"He said he was in the Wangjiawei. He said he came to see the captain."

Ambrose stood up, dusted the thighs and said in a casual and friendly tone as possible: "I am not a spy, but I admit, I want to observe your performance without you knowing that I am here. I want to see how good you are. I saw you two practicing swords. This is impressive. Are you a Fude? "

"Yes, Captain Red Scarf."

Ambrose now has an idea of ​​how to escape. "How about your spear, Ford?"

The boy smiled. "not bad."

"This is the weakest weapon I used." Ambrose said bitterly. "I have never mastered throwing. Will you show me your skills?"

"Give me your spear, Frank. Give yours to our guest, Luke." Frank twisted the spear in one hand, and then threw it at Ford, who caught the spear and twisted it by hand And then inserted it into the ground. Luke threw his spear at Ambrose. It is well-balanced, with sharp wooden tips. It may be a training weapon ~ www.wuxiaspot.com ~ but it can also cause serious injuries.

Ford said: "You throw it first, sir. I see if it can be thrown as far as you are."

Ambros took the weight of the spear with his hand and bent his shoulder. Then he took a few steps forward and threw the spear out.

"Good, sir. The movement is very beautiful."

"You are very kind."

"Well, I didn't comment on the distance. Honestly, sir, this distance is quite frustrating."

Ambrose had to hold back a laugh. "Let's see how you do it."

Ford raised the spear to his shoulder. He was short, thin and sturdy, and had narrow shoulders, making him unsuitable as a spearman. He walked a few steps forward, when Ambrose turned and ran.

He took a few steps to get to the horse and stepped into the saddle. When his horse turned around, Ambrose saw that Ford's spear was almost twice the distance of his own throw. For a slim boy, it was a long distance, and for a while, he was stunned. But then he collected the reins and kicked the horse.

The boys ran after him, shouting to stop him. They also ran fast, followed him, and grabbed his leg, but he kicked the horse harder and drove away.

But suddenly, a bang hit him on the head, and Ambros hit his horseback sideways. He lost a stirrup in his feet. Before he could react, he was half buried under the horse's body and dragged to the ground by the stirrup. A hoof hit him in the back and kicked him out. He rolled forward across the sand and tried to stand up, but everything in front of him was shaking and then turned black.