Life in Bretonnia » Places

         Heny found his horse again. After Henry had fallen off, he had continued to run in fear, and eventually returned, a sign of loyalty if you asked Henry. He padded the horse and got back up on it and started to ride back to the battlefield and surveyed the damage. I still can't believe they killed so many. We outnumbered them two to one and yet still they bested us, how could it be?
His attention was then diverted as he saw a man wave for him, Wait, does he expect me to do a squire's job? Henry thought as he looked closer. Yet, I suppose that I could kill some time helping the less fortunate.

He then rode over to the man who had waved, mentally preparing himself for the dirty work he had to get done. "Right, what do you - " Henry said, trailing off as he saw who it was that laid on the ground. "My duke!" Henry called as he realized who it was that was saddled in front of him. "Hell's bells, he needs a healer," Henry said, stating the obvious. "Let me, my horse isn't wounded nor winded. I'll see to it that he's treated." He grabbed hold of the reins and began to lead the horse back towards the tournament, finding a quick, yet safe, pace was hard as he could tell the Duke was in discomfort whenever a bump appeared or his body was forced to move too much.