Thelinburg
an excerpt

Now he rode north alone, angry and injured in his honour, with a child’s hurt beneath his damaged pride. He emerged into a clearing absorbed in his indignation still, failing to notice the upset of leaves and birds around him, not yet possessed of a soldier’s instinct. But his mare was alert and reared suddenly, sensing the stumbling approach of the enemy foot soldier before her rider saw him, perhaps stirred by the scent of the blood that streaked his face. Elthain was almost jolted from the saddle, but his reactions were quick and he grasped the reins hard with his left hand, swiftly ripping his blade from its scabbard with his right. But there was no need to use his weapon, for the man, maddened by the blood in his eyes and thinking himself blinded, rushed beneath the mare’s flailing hooves. He gave a terrible, high pitched scream as the horse caught him full in the chest, snapping his ribs with a crack which rang loudly in the stillness of the forest, flinging him to the ground.