"Coward! You call for help like a screaming child!" Father's voice rips into my wounds, prying them open.

I try to defend myself "But I freed William...."

"You called for help before you saw steel!"

"Your cowardice dishonors me little brother." All I can see is the disdain
lighting both their eyes. It grieves me and angers me.

"You are angry? What right do you have to be angry?" Helen's words cut into me much more painfully than any sword. And then they speak as one.

"You drag our family's honorable name through the mud."

Father draws his blade and runs it into my shoulder. I wake in a cold sweat. I reach to my shoulder. In pain I remember the previous days events. I wipe my brow and lay back down but I do not try to sleep.

I prefer the pain of my wounds to the pain of my dreams...