“Halt!” one of the guards shouts. They level their halberds at me. “What business have you here?”

I tuck my hands under my tunic, and take a deep breath. “I’m here to kill the king. He has enslaved his own people, caused untold hardship, and executed any who dared speak out against his unjust ways. The king must die, and his wise and benevolent son, Prince Eric, must rise to the throne.”

The two guards looked at each other, smirking. I knew about what. “Little man, you look barely strong enough to pick up a broom, never mind a sword. Not that I see a blade on you.” He starts to laugh.

“How, exactly,” the second guard chimes in, laughing along, “do you expect to defeat two armed and armoured royal soldiers?”

“Well,” I say, smiling, “you’re not totally armoured. You left off your helms, and…” My hands come out from under my tunic. Before they can even ask what I’m holding, I neatly place two .45 caliber bullets in their foreheads.

There are times coming from the future definitely has it’s advantages.