Prologue

These were the moments he lived for…

He forgot the pain and the danger in the sheer exhilaration of the fight. His feet moved with the grace of a dancer. His sword shimmered through the air like a living thing, the arc of his elegant strokes catching the golden light of the afternoon sun.

A nick here… a slice there… a sudden deadly thrust. A perfectly executed leap. His eyes were keen; his face flushed with excitement. And still he fought on.

They were large, muscular; stronger than he was. But he was slender and nimble. And his quick mind was always on its feet, thinking of clever ways to outwit them.

They were fighting harder now. And he fought harder too, his face a mask of concentration.

Hold on… hold on… I’ll outlast them if I hold on…