The slaves rushed the weapon racks at the first possible moment. Some grabbed spears, long enough to keep themselves at a safe distance. They fought bare-chested, where even the slightest scratch could mean the difference between life and death.
Others grabbed leather shields. These were light enough to defend against arrows and spear thrusts and protect their lives.
The crazier ones grabbed flails. The slave Sidor Sea Water had bet on was just such a man. He charged the nearest slave, swinging his spiked flail from left to right. The other slave instinctively raised his knife to block, but the flail easily smashed it aside before striking his jaw.
SPLAT!
His skull shattered, and blood splattered everywhere.
The headless corpse staggered and fell.
"Aaaah!" A lady screamed, hiding in her male companion's arms. He took the opportunity to hold her close and comfort her. It was impossible to tell if her scream was genuine.
