A Matter of Honour and Redemption
...e wars. They all ran together. Once, it was glorious, now, just a simple base human matter of instinct. Survival actually. In Venice, the sword that had bitten so deep into my neck had fallen quickly as it's owner dropped to the ground. The surprised look on his face as my sword answered his. He never saw it coming, figured he had finally come upon his payday. He miscalculated, however, so did I. I reach down, feel the scar tissue and wince. Healed, to a point, forgotten, no. Betrayed again be another of my nameless past. Not unlike the betrayals I had visited upon scores of my contemporaries. I draw a breath and stop short. The crossbow arrow that bit into my chest had grazed a lung. Stopping for proper medical care had not been an option. It was a rather hasty bandage job so that I may live to fight another day. Fight another day? These days were wearing on my soul. I longed to put down this heavy sword. My head, my soul was weary and worn of a thousand...