Page 21 - SagaOfBarak1

good men. Oh and of course, these were men he had no right to command anyway.
And the fool and the coward that he was, fled the field, his post as well as his
undeserved command. Aye the coward deserted his soon to be slaughtered
infantrymen and simply rode off upon his fast pricey Spanish horse away from
danger. By all accounts the fool was now in exile somewhere, hiding both his
shame and his cowardice from his disgraced family as well as his disgusted peers.
Rightfully so, after all he had brought black shame to both his kin and his very
expensive military academy. Bravery is something you are born with, not
something a man is born to, had long been Barak’s view of things. In the past
the giant had witnessed unarmed peasants fighting to their very last gasp and
their last drop of blood to protect what little it was they owned. And all of this
while the so called high-born had scurried away on their fine horses in a panic
at the first sign of any danger to themselves. Still, those Roman standards though,
well they were all the giant had brought back with him however, as over a
thousand good Roman cavalry soldiers, then another five hundred hired German
mercenaries had perished in the final three days of hand-to-hand fighting. This
battle was the conclusion of months upon months of sneak skirmishes with the
savage plainsmen. Only Barak had as ever and always survived, only the slayer
prevailed, only he alone had survived the last savage fray on the cold windswept
rainy plains. Then, when all of his men were lost and slain and piled high all
around and about him, the giant was the last man standing before his victorious
enemy. But big Barak, who was as ever and as always a quick thinking man was
undaunted by the stark face of almost certain death. And so now, the smiling
mocking ogre, knowing full well mens’ failings, at once insulted, spat upon, then
challenged the barbarian chieftain who had led the savage horde of horsemen.
Aye the great ogre had most cleverly challenged the clan leader to a duel of
honour. Of course this would be a straightforward death fight, man to man and
back into the very earth where they had once come from. Thankfully, aye perhaps
very luckily, for big Barak the barbarian chieftain, while being high in courage
but low in brain power, had foolishly and willingly accepted this offer of combat.
So with offer accepted the fight was on. They had fought warrior against warrior
in a glorious blood duel; this of course as always in such matters was to the very
death. And also of course this great exhibition of bravery and showmanship was
all done for the very glory of it all. But in all truth, this fray was in Barak’s opinion
nothing more than a formality, no more than entertainment. However, glory
entertainment or not, this duel had been a very brief, bloody and a most one sided
affair. And there was of course only ever going to be one winner in this glorious
mismatched duel. Big Barak, well to be honest the wily ogre had known this
simple fact all too well before the onset of the fray. However, though the other
hapless warrior, who was by the by, a tall lanky one- eyed man with long greasy
ginger hair and a big red unkempt beard, while being a brave soul was perhaps
not privy to this stark simple fact. Aye sadly for him this unpleasant looking itchy
fool with a row of broken teeth, he was a man apparently less educated than the
fearsome ogre Barak. Anyway bad wagers put aside, the victor of this fight was

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