I’m joining a new thing. It’s a sort of blog hop in which writers post 8-sentence snippets of their current work called Weekend Writing Warriors. Today’s snippet will even feature actual warriors!
From the prologue of my as-yet untitled book, a fantastical version of the Thirty Years War, the beginning of the final battle::
The Imperial center moved forward, the black and red Inferrara standards fluttering in front of the endless ranks of shining pike and helm. A muffled thump came from the guns on the hill straight ahead, but all the shells landed well to Braeden’s right.
The Sanova Hussars were ready, the rising breeze rustling through their black wings and the black banners fluttering from their lances.
“Forward!” Braeden shouted, spurring his charger into a gallop.
The pikes ahead swung into formation, and Braeden waited for musket fire. The wings rushing in his ears made it hard to hear anything else. He looked straight ahead and saw a young musketeer, eyes wide, raise his weapon as a puff of smoke came from it.
His lance slid into forward position as his horse crashed into a bristling hedge of pike.