TE17 Mysterious Montenegro

Milovan Radojević

to, with powerful arms and gray hair, saw me and said, taking no account of my habit:

“What are you doing here unarmed, dear brother? Surely you don’t think prophet Elijah will lend us lightning bolts?”

The ones closest looked around and glanced at me, and a fewgave a smile. I had a word on my lips, but then forgot it: as he turned back round, the gray-haired man was struck in his bare neck by a dart and fell from the wall without a sound. He died as easily as he had called me to the fray. I crossed myself for the souls of these heroes, begged pardon for the gray man’s soul, and grabbed the bow he had dropped. Someone handed me a sword, and I became a warrior again, like the time on the wall of Ratac Abbey. The battle wore on. At one time, God forgive me, I became intoxicated by the fighting. Since the centurions had been killed, the warriors began to listen to me, and then it was reported that the Rascians had almost broken through the lower gates—with almost no one there to drive them back. So I rushed through the general chaos with a company of men to help, but I did not reach the gates in time because the enemy was already in the middle of the city. Promptly I found myself facing a Rascian, who had just slaughtered a child, and yelled as I brought my blade down on his neck:

“Strike them, comrades, be brave!”

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