Patrick Thornton

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Fafhrd, his back to a great oak, had his broadsword out and was holding off two of Rannarsh’s henchmen, who were attacking with their shorter weapons. It was a tight spot and the Northerner realized it. He knew that ancient sagas told of heroes who could best four or more men at swordplay. He also knew that such sagas were lies, providing the hero’s opponents were reasonably competent.
Swords Against Death (Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser, #2)
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