As the driver struggled with the reins, Roland darted to the side of the carriage, ‘Ey!’ he shouted at the guard, who instinctively turned to face him. With practiced precision, Roland loosed the quarrel into the man’s shoulder from twenty paces and closed fast with his sabre. The guard pitched sideways but surprisingly didn’t tumble, instead drawing a two-handed broadsword and, leaping down from the carriage, attempting to engage the thief with one good arm. ‘Don’t make this mistake, laddy!’ Roland taunted, closing lightning fast, whirling his sabre in a dizzying dance. As he reached striking distance, he began a lunge that he expertly halted as the man dropped his sword and raised his good arm in surrender. ‘Wise decision!’ Roland exclaimed, drawing close the man then ostentatiously kissing him on the cheek before throwing a hard hay maker punch that knocked the man out cold. A sudden sharp pain splintered through his fist and he dropped his sword and crossbow as he spun slowly in. Marge felt something flow between them, as though the woman was passing strength to her husband. He turned back to her and squared his shoulders."Mrs. Paper. The Secretary of the Army regrets to inform you that your husband. Lieutenant Ronald Paper, has been killed in action in Iraq facing an armed enemy of the United States. Further details will be forthcoming as they become available."A giant hand squeezed Marge's heart. She screamed, staggered and would have fallen if the woman had not caught her arm and supported her.The two men stood silently, watching the older woman assist Marge to the couch. The momentary quiet was broken when footsteps echoed down the hall. The young man, Larry, Marge finally recalled from some dim corner of her mind, burst into the living room."What the hell is going... oh FUCK!" Good morning, Lieutenant Hall." Larry blanched as he recognized the Colonel, who continued. "Lieutenant, perhaps you could find time in your busy schedule to come by my office.
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