Jain clutched his stomach around the arrow protruding from his lower abdomen as he trudged through the snow, his sword held in his right hand. He wasn’t sure how long he had been walking; an hour? two? He had left his dead horse back there after it had been brought down by archers. The ambush had been brutal. He had watched his brothers slaughtered, their blood splattering across his face and armor as he fought to help them. He had barely escaped and even now he wasn’t sure he was going to make it. He panted, his skin dotted with sweat that the cold air turned to pinpricks of ice. The toe of his boot caught a rock hidden beneath the snow and he had to brace himself on his sword to keep from falling all the way down. He crouched their on one knee, struggling to push himself back up.