Our hero was outmatched and outnumbered. He paddled down the raging, churning river to escape the attacks of the Bullrunner warriors.

Their chief, Taja, ordered a massive price on his head. Dead. After taking out the top general and the chief’s battle-hardened wife, Reyan is in deep trouble.

Reyan rowed with all his might. He was worried that the warriors would catch up to him, as they knew these waters far better than him. His only consolation was that their chief never sent them out on the River when it was any like this. Too many warriors and villagers were lost before, but that didn’t mean the warriors couldn’t navigate the dense, thick forest on either side of the broiling waters.

The current was on his side, but he could hear the warriors catching up quickly behind him. He only hoped he could make the lake in time. At a massive approximate thirty square miles, he would be an impossible catch once free.

Reyan doubled his already exhausting strokes. Luckily he was quite the accomplished horseman, otherwise the increased speed over the raging rapids would have ousted anyone else.

Reyan, luckily, was not just anyone else. He was the many times great-grandson of a Scottish Warlord, with the stamina, combat, and strategy training all passed on down through the direct bloodline from Father to son.

Even if Reyan was caught, he wouldn’t go down without a fight.