Great men in iron scurried along the gutter, the long, spear-like halberds of the heavy infantry slung over their massive shoulders as they scanned the shuttered windows with a hunter's vigilance.
"Thank you again," the woman muttered for the last time , her voice disappearing into the folds of her rags as she darted down a narrow alley like a startled mouse.
The heavy, rhythmic clinking of iron plate grew closer as two legionaries approached Vilon. The first man tracked the retreating shape of the woman with a squint of deep suspicion, while the second kept his eyes locked steady on the young knight's crest.
"Morning," Vilon greeted.
"Morning. Kakunian, yes?" the second asked. He was clearly a veteran, as proved by his sunken eyes framed by an open-visor helmet, revealing a square face darkened by a thick, unwashed stubble.
Vilon nodded. "Aye. " Well actually he was Ezvanians but he basically grew up in Kakunia.
