He watched with clenched breath as four warriors raced toward the Warmark.
Howling warriors raced through the sheets, loaded down with riches and plunder.
Walters was only a half step behind as the warrior raced toward the van and ripped open the driver's-side door.
His warrior turned and raced deep into the woods.
At their head raced a tall warrior, blind rage and hatred etched on to his broad features.
The horsemen moved down the slope, keeping their line, while the warriors lifted their shields high and raced to meet them.
The three young warriors raced for their fighters while Mother brought herself into position.
Our warriors raced along behind them, howling as they picked off the rear guard.
Yelling like wolves, several hundred naked warriors with axes in their hands ran from under the trees and raced toward the eastern gate.
His warriors raced after him and the swamp exploded into spray under their charge.
