The lord of a long-honored house, fighting for a doomed cause, and the slave war-made man, fighting for the glory of his prince,advanced toward each other.
Both paused, wordlessly establishing the meaning of the moment: they would fight man against man, commander against commander, without aid. Both men's guards stepped back, letting the blood be shed only by the designated champions.
Edric's men obeyed without a sound, Willios's guards, however, tried to object, before the Marshal silenced them with a single, scorching look.
When they were a few meters apart, they assumed their stances. Willios low behind his shield, Edric balanced, his sword held casually. They gazed at each other's helms, comparing the hungry fire they imagined in the opponent's eyes with the one currently roaring in their own.
