It is said that horses thunder across a battlefield. He stood with his sword behind a shield thicker than his palm which may as well have been parchment. Off in the distance and closing was a line of charging cavalry. Horses do not thunder. Their hooves strike the earth and make it live. Like hammers beneath his feet, vibrations ran up his legs as the armored monsters came closer with lances at the ready. The pounding made its way up his hips and his chain mail jingled. At only a league or two away his ribcage was ready to burst as his heart matched the rhythm of the hoof beats. He clenched his teeth to keep them from rattling as the line of knights met his line of footmen. In that first few seconds over three-quarters of the casualties sustained on both sides would die. There was a powerful crack as flesh, bone, and the wood of his shield were all smashed by the impact of a war-horse