Randall Garrett

“ Exhausted, Jon leaned against the Tower to support himself, and shook his head. "Why did you save me? The Tower was yours. Why?"
"I think I understand," the Wild One said slowly. He threw his sword to the ground. "It is something I have long thought of. We fight you because we hate you—because we envy your free life. You have something to fight for, in this Tower. I—I want to join you. I want to join the Free People!"
Jon smiled. "You're welcome to come to our village with me," he said. "We believe in freedom—the way the Old Ones did." ”

“ Jon whirled and leaped forward for the battle, just as he saw Len fall to the giant's sword.
"Give back! Give back!" someone yelled. "They're beating us!"
They're not beating me, Jon thought fiercely, as he laid open his opponent's arm with a savage slash and followed immediately with a quick swipe that ripped open the Wild One's throat.
Breathing hard, now, Jon turned to look for his next opponent. He had but one thought: the Tower must be defended. The Tower was sacred to the Free People; the Tower must be defended. ”

“ The look-out at the top of the Tower sang out periodically, keeping the guards below informed of the boat's progress.
Finally: "They're here! Prepare to defend the Tower!"
The great sailing-ship pulled up on the shore, and men began to pour forth—ten, twenty, thirty men. It was a good-sized army. And Jon gasped when he saw who led them.
He was a giant, topping seven feet by several inches. His sword glittered in the sunlight as he slashed it savagely through the air, and his hair was a coarse, matted mane. ”