Me and a really beautiful, wild-looking woman of some kind are escaping through the woods on horseback. I'm not sure what we're escaping from exactly, but I'm not particularly worried about it. My father is following us, but he's driving a 4-wheel-drive mini-van full of old people.
We hear another 4WD vehicle overtaking us, so I turn to the princess and say, "Where is my long sword?" And get ready to try to fight off the truck while she and my father escape with these senior citizens. She shrugs, but opens a bag she's been carrying and gives me a massive pair of shears with a quizzical look on her face--as though she has no idea what long sword I'm talking about.
The driver of the other vehicle (which is also full of old people), who happens to be an Arab, tries to run me down and laughs cruelly. Then he somehow drives his car through the open door of my dad's 4WD and narrowly misses our old folks--an affront that enrages me.
I run through the woods and manage to get ahead of him, leaping from a small ridge onto the roof of his car. When he stops to let the old people out to take photographs and rest (it's some kind of tour, apparently), I jump down and put the point of the shears against his throat.
I lead him back down the trail towards my dad and the princess, holding one of the blades of the shears against his throat and dragging him in a headlock. I am seething, and begin telling him that he is going to pay for nearly killing me. On the way back, he begins begging for his life, telling me about his children, and crying miserably. By the time I get to the clearing where my father's charges are wandering around in a daze--almost as though they have alzheimer's--I am starting to feel sorry for him. He's a cruel bastard, but I'm no longer sure I want to kill him.
My dad, the princess and I discuss bringing him to the King, who can pass judgement on him. The princess points out that if I murder him here in the woods, I will be outlawed, since it is the King's right alone to kill. I look at the wretch, and feel horribly guilty: I held the shears so close to his throat that they've sliced a large, bloodless hole in his trachea.
I wish that I'd never gotten involved. I'm going to to responsible for taking another human being's life, and no matter how flawed and mean he may be, I don't want any part of it.