The young prince was unhorsed and surrounded by a dozen men; both Ser Alderwall and Ser Floren were fending against the strange new enemy and unable to help. The prince took a spear to his leg and fell, but before the final blow could be dealt, his squire blocked the swing, a white-haired boy from Tall Tower that his elder brother had found on one of his many adventures across Yalia.
In an instant, his strange sword cleaved the attacker in two. Each man that met him fell where they stood and had landed only a handful of blows against the young squire, all of which glanced off his armour. By the time Ser Alderwall had made it to the prince, only a single man was left standing.
Their armour was harder than any knight on the field that day, yet they only wore it in parts, leaving their tanned bellies and underarms bare. The squire's blade plunged through the last man's stomach, and still he fought on with a sword in his belly. Blood poured from the wood like a rushing crimson river. His sword seemed to glow and change colour each time it was swung down at the squire.
He finally fell after the boy grabbed hold of his sword once more and racked it up through his gut, only stopping at the plate covering the man's chest. Intestines spilt from him like a pale pink worm, squirming about his hands as the man tried stuffing them back into himself with numb fingers. He struggled for only a few seconds before the squire took his head off with a single swipe of the man's own sword.
With that, the battle was over; what remained of their forces waded through the water and clambered back onto their peculiar ships as the Ashen archers loosed volley after volley. The young prince's squire helped his master to the medical scholar in the backlines without a word.
This brief display of bravery and martial talent was the first time the singers sang of Ser Kestrel the falcon knight, but it was far from the last time.