Before Eric knew it, he was being yanked out of the tent, his head spinning.
He stumbled forward into a massive sea of soldiers standing at attention, armor glinting in the sunlight like an over-the-top medieval music video.
Calvary units were stationed off to one side, and he spotted a few horse riders circling around, looking fierce and ready for battle.
There, standing proud, was a striking white horse, its coat gleaming.
The guy who had dressed him up—the same overly enthusiastic soldier—led the horse over. "Your Highness," he said, beaming like he just won the lottery.
As he approached, the horse let out a loud neigh, tossing its head.
Eric chuckled weakly. "You better run well, kid. In the other direction. You get me?" He wasn't sure if the horse understood him, but its eyes peered back at him with an expression that seemed to say, You've got to be kidding me.
