The old man hobbled down the road...

When he opened the sack, his expression once again hardened, as he remembered the deeds he had done with this object before he had put it there.

He lifted a great bow of yew from the sack, covered with a great cloth and grease, helping it to preserve its strength and essentially, its shape and quality in these conditions.

Using trembling, feeble hands, he reached inside his cloak pocket, extracting a long strand of goat hair. With practiced precision he strung the bow, pulling out an arrow from the quiver in the greasy sack.

"No! Get away! Please!" sobbed Katren, as she grabbed what remained of her tattered clothing and gathered it to her chest, clutching tightly.

"Get over here you little vixen!" beckoned the knight, as he belted her around the face for her insolence.

"I’m getting too old for this," muttered the old man, but gripping the bow, he felt the excitement and adrenalin he had not felt since his youth, once again coursing through his fingertips.

His old eyes narrowed as he concentrated, and pulled the string taut with expert precision. With a whistle tearing through the air the arrow flew with tremendous force, striking the knight directly through the back of his neck, where the chain mail was absent.

With a thud the knight hit the ground, and Katren ran, sobbing behind the old man, seeking cover.

"Aurelius!" Pelias exclaimed. "Is that really you?? Has the old war hero returned? Or are my eyes fooling me?"

Aurelius nodded and smoothed his long white mane of hair behind his ears, concentrating. "It has been a long time, old friend" sensing movement behind him he swung around and brought the edge of the gold tipped bow into contact with the knight’s face. The knight was stunned to find the amount of magnitude behind the blow, before falling unconscious.

The rest of the men had gotten wind of what had happened, and they advanced upon Aurelius in number. His bitter eyes watched, as they drew closer, beckoning for him to surrender and making fun of his age. His frail hand reached once again into the sack and extracted a long wooden staff, and murmuring something, a glowing ball of crystal appeared at its tip.

They charged at him, shouting for courage, and Katren cowered further behind him, whimpering. He pushed her behind him and raising the staff vertically with both hands, he once again murmured something, and out of the crystal erupted fiery silhouettes that hit the ground in front of their feet, sending several of them flying, dead before they hit the ground.

The next few were about to hack him to pieces, but with a wave of his hand, they were thrown against the trees with such force that they were broken like the waves on a cliff.

One warrior remained; he threw his sword at Aurelius, and without further ado, leapt on his horse and took off, vanishing in a cloud of snow and dust.

Aurelius moved his creaking bones, walking slowly toward Katren, taking off his cloak and throwing it over her.

He sighed, "I am getting too old for this" With a bitter grimace he dragged the sack to the center of the village.

"Villagers! We are now on the brink of destruction! Not only is a corrupt, oppressive king ruling us, but we have also killed off his conscription force.