The last gift. The first row of footmen already perished, when the second one reached their ranks in a desperate attempt to lend a helping hand. Shields clashed against shields, boss's and iron helmets suffered gruesome plangent dents as the opposing forces reached out for each other with steel in hand, trying to tire out the other in this seemingly endless battle. The heavy cavalry reviewed this harsh collision from the concealment of a larger shrubby on top of hill, not far away. Suddenly a bugle call shook the ether. The horn's sound was all too familiar for both the riders and horses. Without hesitation, the company broke out of the bushy and started it's charge towards the enemy, attacking its right flank. The ever approaching rumble of ironclad horses trotting towards them aroused the attention of the invaders and without delay they started to change formation. In just a few seconds a thousand spears greeted them. There was no time left to react and the rushing cavalry slammed into the sea of thorns. Wail and roar filled the air, repressing the sound of cracking wood and bone alike. A knight found itself on the ground, choking in mud, spring's curse. His trusty steed lay next to him, taking heavy but slowing breaths, a splintered skewer sticking out of her chest. Distant memories of a newborn foal running happily towards him rushed the warrior, engulfing his heart with joy, grief and rage, when a strange shadow appeared at his side ready to end his life. A sword's blade glimmered above him, but the attack was interrupted with a deafening ding. The invader succumbed from the force of the kick, while the imploded breastplate crushed him from within with its iron grasp. A last gift from a withering friend. The knight got on his feet, took his side axe into his hand and with a coup de grace, ended the suffering of both. The axe head is 18 cm/ 7 inch long, with a 7.5 cm/ 3 inch long edge. The spike is about 6 cm/ 2.4 inch. Its shaft is 30 cm/ 12 inch long. hope you like it!