Seven…
The shot left a puff of smoke in the projectile’s wake. His shot struck the horse dead in the chest… Still about an inch too high…
Six…
He spun the barrel to line up a fresh shot and holstered the pistol.
Five…
With the horses nearly upon them, Marc stopped cold with knees bent.
Four…
He launched himself sideways to get out of the way of the horse and rider.
Three…
Marc dropped to his knees.
Two…
He adjusted his position until the sabre protruded out his side while using his opposing arm to brace his blade. Every man had a patch of rawhide sewn into their uniforms in that spot to make this possible.
Disclaimer: This excerpt from Man of War is currently in development. There may be typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth.
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