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The Sun was setting.
In the village of Elet a fire was burning. The main square was thronged with people as the entire population turned out to celebrate the festival Kenetor, or Midwinter's day. Although snow was falling those around the fire were warm, if slightly intoxicated.

James and Simon Rolder were bored. After six hours of celebrating with strangers they were looking for someone they knew. James knocked Simon's shoulder, pinting at the tall figure of a man standing by the fire.
"Is that Scot?" he asked his brother, grinning slightly.
As the two brothers approached the fire Simon called out
"Ho Scot!"
The figure by the fire turned, a warm smile on his face as the firelight danced across his blue and white tabard. On the front of the tabard the white wolf's head that had given the watchmen their more common names of the King's Wolves, or just 'the wolves'. Tales from the cities told of corrupt watch guardsmen who used their power for their own ends but in the lands around Elet the wolves werew regarded with affection.
"Ho Simon," their friend replied, "Have you two been having fun?"
James laughed as he said "More than you seem to be having. Are you on duty?"
"Aye. There was talk of a brawl. So far tonight there has not been the smallest sign of violence, from anyone. Well, I had best be off on my rounds." He left, merging into the shadows, and the brothers were lost in their thoughts for a few minutes. After a long minute of thought Simon reminded his older brother,
"We should get back home. Father will be busy with all the extra customers. I expect Aindru will have already been dragged from the party to help."
James smiled as he thought of their strong-willed sister, "Aye and she will have had to have leave behind her court. half the boys in the village her age are in love with her." Simon laughed but suddenly grew more sombre whenhe saw gathered outside The Travellers Lute, the family inn.
"What goes on?" he asked one of the crowd.

The man turned to face him and replied,
"Thom's having another arguement with Eipe Ason. Only this time Ason has brought a couple of armed thugs with him."

The two brothers looked significantly at each other then unceremoniously shoved through the crowd. Inside their father stood facing four armed men, engaged in a shouting match with the man who was leading the group. Their father was an imposing figure, standing at nearly six feet. His black hair, tinged with grey, gave him an aura of authority and his brown eyes blazed with anger. Nearly as imposing was the shining broadsword held loosely in his hand. It was a memento from his solddiering days, as were the other weapons hung around the inn. Behind the bar itself was where the broadsword usually hung and it and the rapiers by the door were polished often.

The man leading the group yelled in a deep, throaty voice,
"I don't care who you intend to leae this inn to. I am here for Aindru!"
"So that's your game? You wish to marry a girl a third your age?"
"I will have her!"
Thom's voice lowere to it's normal volume as he said,
"You are scum, Eipe. My daughter will be your wife over my dead body."
The men around Eipe began to spread out, unsheathing their weapons. Two held longswords, and the third a rapier. Eipe himself pulled a broadsword much like Thom's from it's scabbard. He said,
"So be it." and cut downward at Thom's head, who only just managed to knock aside the blow before it split his head in two.

The two brothers turned as one and snatched the rapiers off the wall. Eipe's me turned to face them. Both James and Simon had been trained in swordsmanship from their father, and although Simon was the better duellist James put his height to good use. Still, three on two was not a good thing. The two longswords moved to James, wrongly reckoning him to be more dangerous. As they got closer James recognised one of them,
"Hett? I had thought better of you."
The man named Hett Ason, a supposed friend of Simon, looked aplogetic and was about to speak when his companion cut him off, saying, "Blood's thicker, Hett."

Hett's eyes narrowed, and he hefted his longsword. He was good with a blade. But not as good as Simon, a voice told him. He gave a bitter smile, remembering that whatever he tried his hardest at, Simon always surpassed him. Then he lunged.

James danced to one side as the blade speared the air where he had been a moment before. He smashed his fist into Hett's face, the stunned man dropping to the floor. He turned to the other man to find him grinning.

"I haven't duelled one on one for years, boy. I thought maybe I had lost the knack. I haven't." he said, before launching into a series of overhead blows that forced James back across the room.

The man's rapier lashed out again at Simon, who only doged within a hair's breadth of being dusembowelled. This time tham man had overeached and Simon struck back, making a deep cut across the man's face. Simon moved to strike again but the man kicked out, catching Simon in the shin, and both men fell to the floor. Simon was up again in an instant, as was the man.

Yet again James parried, as his assailant unleashed a frenzy of blows. He was backed against a table and he threw himself backwards onto it, feeling that man's longsword cut along his inner thigh. As he rolled off the opposite side of the table a cry rang out. Eipe staggered backward, the hilt of Thom's blade protuding from his stomach. Evidently somehow Thom had disarmed him a few moments before.

Taking advantage of the distraction Simon kicked his partner in the groin and he staggered back to the wall. As he raised his hand to strike down at Simon, Sinom's rapier drove through his sword hand, pinning it to the wall. Simon let go of the rapier and kneed the man in the belly before knocking him unconcious with his fist. As the unnamed man slumped to the floor Simon pulled his blade free. He looked around. Thom was restin agains the bar from several wounds across his torso. James was still trading blows with his attacker, who seemed to be tiring, and the crowd had thinned out as the bloodshed had begun. He walked over to where James was fighting, and kicked James' hawk-nosed assailant in the back of the leg. At the same time James thrust his blade up to the hilt in the man's shoulder.

WOW! I like, i like very much! Seriously, that is good, you should start a book about this, its great!

You do? Well I have written a lot off the computer, so I can type moe up if you want...

Hawk-nose attempted to drive his blade upward as he fell and Simon ran him through from behind. The man's eyes brightened as he said,
"Good fight," then dulled as his lifeblood spread over the inn floor.

James knelt quietly by the dead man, his eyes moist. He had seen dead men before, and violence. But never has a man lain dead because of one of his acts. He knew it had been kill or be killed, but a man was dead.

Simon sighed inwardly at his brother's remorse. Although younger Simon was of a much more practical view of the world. He had killed a man, yes, but he had done it defending his family. Neither of the brothers had done wrong, but he knew his brother well enough to know that he needed time alone. Simon stood up slowly and walked over to his father.