The Novelist

Jerry Downing:
The moonlight swirled around Soubise as he reined in his stallion in the courtyard. The sound of insects and birds played a sweet melody that danced on his ears. He mounted the horse, balanced himself in the saddle and then pointed its head in the direction that he wanted it to go. He gave instructions with his hips, guiding the horse into a medium trot and then progressing to a canter. He felt a delicious peace flow through his being, feeling at one with the universe.

Jerry Downing:
He brought the horse up to a halt, dismounted, and then tethered it to a tree. He paused for a moment, faintly disturbed by something but unable to identify the cause of his disquiet. His eyes searched the darkness, trying to penetrate the silent impression that played upon his senses. The sound of movement intruded upon his consciousness, and then he noticed a deep shadow that coalesced among the leaves, suddenly detaching itself and stepping out into the light, revealing a muscular looking native from the South Trelawny tribe of Maroons.

Jerry Downing:
Leonard placed the abeng horn from around his neck to his lips, and blew into it a battle hymn. A second wave of Maroon fighters began to form defensive circles, hiding behind their wooden shields. The hounds started advancing on them, but could not gain purchase beyond their defence. A storm of arrows dropped out of the trees from strategically placed archers, picking off the hounds one by one.

Jerry Downing:
There was a look of strength about Leonard as he crouched in combat formation, reading their intentions as they fanned out around him, moving in for the kill. He held his wooden shield in his left hand, protecting himself whilst he absorbed the positioning of each soldier. He waited until they were within ten feet of him, and then released an axe into the air with his right hand, sending it into the middle of the forehead of a soldier, causing crimson rivulets to flow down his cheeks while the handle protruded from his face.

Jerry Downing:
Leonard then kicked up some dirt in the eyes of the nearest soldier, forcing him to drop his musket and wipe his eyes. He stole to this waist with his free hand to draw a cutlass from its sheath, and then knocked the soldier off his feet with his shield. Another soldier lunged at him with his bayonet, but Leonard shifted sideways in careful, measured movements, parrying the thrust with his shield and then bringing the cutlass down on the soldier's neck. As the rest of the soldiers advanced on him, Leonard unleashed an explosion of power from the upper part of his body, picking them off as they charged towards him. He sliced through armour, flesh and bones, constantly adapting himself for the next attack. He relied on the sound of movement around him as a guide for where the next offensive was coming from, drawing them into his own style of fighting. All of his experience as a Maroon warrior was culminated in this one inspired moment as he meted out death with energetic beauty. He caught a glimpse of a soldier charging towards him from an angle, and sent his cutlass through the air to meet, embedding it in his chest as his knees gave way to the ground. He smashed aside a soldier with centrifugal force using his shield, and then dispossessed another soldier of his musket, bringing the shield down on his skull which snapped the vertebrae from the top of his neck to the small of his back, breaking the shield in half. He took in a deep breath, feeling the reserve of energy in his lungs to continue, but now completely defenceless. He held firm where he stood, waiting for certain death.