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Know thy enemy
Nermesa charged the murdering brigand. But as he neared, a huge figure outlined by the flames dropped down from the trees between the noble and his adversary, a figure so massive that he easily stopped the knight’s horse in its tracks.
Nermesa’s mount cried out as gigantic hands crushed its throat. The knight was tossed aside, landing hard. He looked up to see the giant approaching him. There was something not quite right about the way this monstrous brigand moved, but Nermesa could not worry about that. He desperately searched the ground for his sword, but could not find it.
A harsh, barking laugh made him look to his left, where the bearded, wild-haired brigand watched in amusement. Nermesa stared at the face and the Pictish tattoos, recalled bits or accounts he had heard . . . and knew then that it was Khatak the Butcher who so reveled in his imminent demise . .