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Lorenzo looked at the sky; the sun was high. Flashes of light
sparkled on the enemy’s helmets and spear points. The long
line of Florentine and German cavalry - Lorenzo guessed their
number at a hundred - slowly began to move towards their position.
The boy felt his horse shudder under him. Even Scoppio senses
that something is about to happen, he realized. He looked at
the enemy, and waited - waited for fear to grip him. Death was
coming; it was charging at him. Armored knights holding lances
of fire; and he, without armor - without weapons - almost like
his nightmare. But, then, off to his side, he heard the duke.
“Courage, my son.” |
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