Sample from "Shepherd Warrior"

The hush over the crowd was intense. Hearts were beating faster as the reality of what the king was saying slowly dawned on them. On the edges of the crowd several men slowly turned to leave but found their escape blocked by another group of mounted knights.
"Unless those persons involved in these murders confess, I will exact punishment on those whom I choose." Everything was perfectly still other than the fluttering of pennants and the occasional stomping of horses' feet. A horse snorted and shook its head. Two crows cawed as they circled overhead.
"I am not one to wait," the King's voice pierced the silence.
Weeping and fearful wailing began throughout the crowd as the anticipated revenge drew closer to reality. Cedric's heart was pounding. He had to confess and take his punishment. He could not let innocent people be punished for his actions. What was he thinking? How could he have thought the slaying of twenty-one Normans would be ignored? He took a deep breath, glanced at Roy, whose face seemed drained of blood, and began to move forward, but the metal handle of Alfred's dagger smashed against his temple, knocking him unconscious. Alfred's strong arms kept him from falling. Roy immediately glared at Alfred whose eyes clearly sent the message to remain where he stood. The strength in his legs was barely enough to hold his weight. He was on the verge of collapse but the power in Alfred's stare kept him rooted to the hardened sod.
The King nodded his head and twenty-one knights moved their horses into the panicking crowd. Twenty-one men, including those who tried to sneak away at the back, were rounded up and pushed at sword point into the green space between the crowd and the king. Women screamed as the chosen men fell on their knees and begged for mercy from their new ruler, claiming their innocence and absolute loyalty should he be merciful.
"Behead your captives," William ordered. "May God have mercy on your putrid souls."
"God will not have mercy on your soul, tyrant!" yelled one of the captives just before the heavy sword severed his head from his shoulders.
"Sire, I beg you, show mercy in your judgment," another begged.
Cries of "innocent," "justice," "bastard," "persecution,” “barbarian," could be heard above the wailing and lamenting of the onlookers.
As Cedric regained consciousness, his mind ran rampant with thoughts of guilt, fear, and panic. Twelve headless bodies already lay on the grass. He turned to Alfred, who still held on to his arm, "I cannot allow these men to die for what I did," he whispered. "Shut up, you fool! You are worth more alive than dead," Alfred whispered through his clenched teeth.
Within ten minutes the Lionheart's justice was complete. Twenty-one bodies and severed heads sprawled out in front of him and the grass was ghastly red as it soaked up the spilt blood of the innocent Saxons. Twenty-one executioners mounted their horses having obeyed the orders of their commander. William turned his snorting destrier and rode off as his knights fell in behind him leaving his victims to be buried and mourned by their families and friends.