Hot, bright heat filled him like some ecstatic poison, and Harlan's pony shied in terror as a wordless howl burst from his throat. His dripping ears were flat to his skull, fire crackled in his brown eyes, his huge sword blurred in a whirring figure eight before him, and the brigand running at him gawked in sudden panic. The raider's feet skidded in mud as he tried to brake, but it was far too late. He was face-to-face with the worst nightmare of any Norfressan, a Horse Stealer Trapani in the grip of the Rage, and a thunderbolt of steel split him from crown to navel.
— David Weber
Oath of Swords
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