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Bloom	By : chayron Category: +G to L > Kyou Kara Maou Views: 9093 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Kyou Kara Maou! It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I'm not making any money from writing it.

Chapter List
- 1-Bloom
- 2-Part 2
- 3-Part 3
- 4-Part 4
- 5-Part 5
- 6-Part 6
- 7-Part 7
- 8-Part 8
- 9-Part 9
- 10-Part 10
- 11-Part 11
- 12-Part 12
- 13-Part 13
- 14-Part 14
- 15-Part 15
- 16-Part 16
- 17-Part 17
- 18-Part 18
- 19-Part 19
- 20-Part 20
- 21-Part 21
- 22-Part 22
- 23-Part 23
- 24-Part 24
- 25-Part 25
- 26-Part 26
- 27-Part 27
- 28-Part 28
- 29-Part 29
- 30-Part 30
- 31-Part 31
- 32-Part 32
- 33-Part 33
- 34-Part 34
- 35-Part 35
- 36-Part 36
- 37-Part 37
- 38-Part 38
- 39-Part 39
- 40-Part 40
- 41-Part 41
- 42-Part 42
- 43-Part 43
- 44-Part 44
- 45-Part 45
- 46-Part 46
- 47-Part 47
- 48-Part 48
- 49-Part 49
- 50-Part 50
- 51-Part 51
- 52-Part 52
- 53-Part 53
- 54-Part 54
- 55-Part 55
- 56-Part 56
- 57-Part 57
- 58-Part 58
- 59-Part 59
- 60-Part 60
- 61-Part 61
- 62-Part 62
- 63-Part 63
- 64-Part 64
- 65-Part 65
- 38
- 39
- 40
Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.
Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.
Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.
A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18. Gwendal – 54.
A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.
A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.
A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.
A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.
A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.
Bloom
by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Anonymously Awesome
Part 39
The table in the dining room was set for fifty people. Several chairs were still empty as the celebration was going to take place in the evening thus not all guests were in attendance. Due to the indoor regulations, none of the people present in the dining room had a weapon on them.
The king was a little over forty, his dark red hair tinged with gray. He was a tall man with wide shoulders and big hands. He rarely smiled, and when he did, it was mostly at his wife and daughters. Despite the general healthy appearance, there was something about him that indicated fatigue.
Queen Shardana was in her fifties but was still beautiful. She was a brunette with large, green eyes. She looked splendid in her elegant blue dress. Her weighty diamond necklace matched perfectly with her earrings. The small royal diadem that she was wearing was tasteful and didn’t detract from either her face or the dress.
The king’s mother, the former queen, was also present. Teromia von Mendoza wore black from head to toe to show that she was mourning. She supported her eldest son, but her mother’s heart could not forgive him for beheading his brother and sending his family away. She missed her husband terribly and always called his name in her prayers.
Von Ashira was sitting close to the king, next to his daughter Kamilia. Wolfram and Conrart were opposite Eldara. Yozak, Karela and the rest of the men hadn’t been invited and were eating in a different part of the castle.
Conrart was acting as an interpreter for Wolfram. On Wolfram’s left side sat the king’s youngest daughter, Odela. Conrart was aware of the enraptured gazes she kept throwing his brother’s way. She, however, was not the only one interested in Wolfram. Von Bielefeld was getting a lot of attention from both men and women all around the table. Despite his best efforts, Conrart couldn’t help but shoot a few warning glances towards one openly staring man to ward him off. That had earned him the stranger’s amused grin.
After lunch, Eldara excused himself and went to discuss something with von Sedera. Von Sedera’s wife, meanwhile, floated to the circle of royal hubbub. The king and his advisors had left the dining room first thus now there were just his women left.
Upon noticing that von Bielefeld seemed undecided about what to do, Rigan offered to show him around the castle. Wolfram accepted his generosity, and he and Conrart went to look around. The brothers were impressed by its size. The incredible number of servants scurrying to and fro was another thing they took note of. There were also many guards stationed by the doors. It differed significantly from Blood Pledge Castle because when comparing the two capitals, Armalin was more splendid.
Once Rigan had finished showing the brothers around, he led them to the lounge and left them there with the other guests. The king still wasn’t present but his daughters and the queen were. Each of them was surrounded by a small flock of people.
Not long afterwards, Wolfram found himself talking to the youngest princess, Odela. She asked him how his journey went then the conversation somehow drifted towards fashion in Shin Makoku. Conrart was having a hard time interpreting the unfamiliar terms. Fortunately for Conrart, Wolfram was much more knowledgeable about men’s fashion than women’s and the conversation quickly petered out.
There were two tables laden with snacks in the lounge, and the princess took her chance to invite Wolfram to try a few dishes. She seemed to be genuinely interested in his reaction to the food, thus Wolfram tried as many as possible. Not everything appealed to the blond but he didn’t show it, instead complimenting each and every dish.
Wolfram was on his sixth snack when Eldara appeared in the lounge. Nodding to his left and right, acknowledging acquaintances and familiar faces, he made his way over to the trio. He knew the princess well enough already so, except for offering a lively greeting, she didn’t pay him much attention.
“Well, aren’t you popular?” Eldara whispered to Wolfram while both of them were reaching out for the same bowl of marinated olives; the princess had suggested they try them – the specially seasoned delicacies were her favorite.
Wolfram grunted in response. He speared an olive and popped it into his mouth. He chewed then his face acquired a peculiar expression.
“They taste like salted bilberries,” he muttered.
“Is that good or bad?”
“Bad.”
Conrart forked one as well. After tasting it, he had to agree with Wolfram’s opinion about salted bilberries. He, however, didn’t find the taste unpleasant.
“They are like divine ambrosia, Your Highness,” Eldara told the princess his verdict. He impaled a second olive with his fork. In his opinion, they were quite good. Not something exceptional, but not bad at all.
Wolfram nodded in confirmation, agreeing with Eldara. He decided that he had had enough of being a guinea pig and lowered his fork onto the table. A servant scurried over to him and took the dirty fork away. Meanwhile, Conrart took another olive – he was strangely attracted to the odd taste. The princess gave him a pleased smile.
Princess Odela left them to fix her make-up. Wolfram’s shoulders relaxed; he hadn’t expected to have to entertain a princess. Whilst the two of them carried the same title, hers was much weightier, being the daughter of the present king.
Conrart was going through the bowl with olives like there was no tomorrow. Wolfram had sampled a glass of wine off one of the snack tables and was sipping it leisurely. Eldara was aware of curious looks the blond kept sending his way. He had also tried to sniff him inconspicuously.
“Wolfram, really,” the duke whispered, “I would not do that with his wife here.”
Wolfram muttered something under his breath.
“What was that?”
“I said I wouldn’t put it past you.”
Eldara rolled his eyes. “Oh, Wolfram, really…”
“Hmm…” Wolfram hummed taking a sip from his glass. He caught Princess Odela returning to the room out of the corner of his eye. “Here she comes again.”
“She is one lovely lady, isn’t she?” Eldara said. “A pretty one as well.”
“Well, yes,” Wolfram agreed reluctantly.
“Too bad that she is engaged.”
Wolfram gave the duke a surprised look. “Oh. To whom?”
“To King Ephontus of Motikia.”
Wolfram blanched. “Eh? Aren’t they savages?”
Eldara laughed. “No more than you or me. It’s just that they…”
“They sacrifice people to their gods,” Wolfram pointed out. “First, they gauge their eyeballs out.”
“Well, that’s a disgusting custom, I agree, but…”
The princess approached them and they quieted. Wolfram inspected Odela more carefully. She seemed to be even prettier than before. Now that he knew that she was taken, he felt less reserved around her as well. Her lively eyes met his questioningly, and Wolfram lowered his head. At all times, women of royal blood were mostly used as tools to establish political relations. There was no doubt that the older daughter had already been tied to some big shot for that very reason.
- - -
When the evening drew near, the servants started lighting candles, and the guests were invited to the throne room. The number of people had grown significantly from earlier on in the day.
Chairs had been arranged into rows in front of the thrones. A red-carpeted walkway split the rows in the middle and led to the steps and then to the elevated thrones. Everyone took their seats and waited for the ceremony to start.
The king and his family appeared after everyone had settled down. They walked along the red carpet and took their seats on the thrones. A herald walked forward in front of them and announced the start of the ceremony.
The first one to get royal recognition and attention, just as everyone had presumed, was the Duke of Raizgad. Eldara left his seat and confidently strode towards the king to accept his award. The king expressed his gratitude for von Ashira’s support during the civil war and presented him with a gold medal. Eldara turned the medal around, read the inscription on the other side aloud then, with a deep bow, thanked him for the honor. He went back down the stairs and the hall burst into a round of applause.
Wolfram could hear discontented whispers behind him. He couldn’t hear the exact words but turned around in his seat to glare at the people behind him and they were silenced immediately. He didn’t know who they were but was definitely going to find out once the ceremony ended.
Malicious whispers spurred by jealousy and incompetence were commonplace in the world they lived in -Wolfram had experienced more than his fair share of them. They were his constant and unavoidable companions. Everything had time and place, though. Those two had better watch out, he thought.
His surname was called near the very end of the ceremony. Wolfram rose from his chair and went to accept his award. While walking, he was aware of everyone’s eyes on him. He was glad that he had chosen to wear his common uniform with von Bielefelds’ blue color – he never needed to worry about his appearance when he had it on.
The king thanked Wolfram for his support and held out a silver medal. Conrart, who appeared next to them, translated for his brother. Wolfram said that he had only done his duty and would do the same a thousand times. He thanked him for his trust and humbly accepted the medal. While Orinth VI was attaching it to his uniform, Princess Odela caught Wolfram’s eye and smiled flirtatiously. Not certain how to react to that, Wolfram kept his face straight and, as soon as the king was done, bowed and went back to his seat.
After that three more names were called out and the ceremony was over. The guests were then invited to have dinner.
When the dinner was over, everyone was invited back into the lounge. Sofas and tables were moved away; musicians came, and the merriment began.
Having secured a glass of punch, Wolfram found a quiet corner and settled there to observe the ball. He had spent about ten minutes watching the festivities when Princess Odela found him, and Wolfram felt obliged to invite her for a dance.
“I’m not a very good dancer, Your Highness,” he warned her.
“That’s alright,” she answered. “I’m a far from perfect one myself.”
For the next half an hour von Bielefeld and Princess Odela became the main attraction in the hall. Envious looks lingered and curious tongues wagged even more than during the ceremony.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Wolfram apologized when he stepped on his partner’s foot.
Princess Odela said nothing but instead gave him a dazzling smile in return.
After dancing awhile, Wolfram and Odela separated for a break. Conrart, who had been watching them the whole time, quickly joined them in case they needed help communicating. In his opinion, though, they were doing great without him.

“Why do I feel that everyone is staring at us?” Wolfram wondered.
Princess Odela rolled her eyes. She was slightly out of breath and was sipping champagne. “Half of them are jealous of me,” she said, fanning herself. “The other half is jealous of you.”
Wolfram chuckled.
“You two look wonderful together, if I may add,” Conrart complimented; he had no fear in saying so since he was informed about her engagement.
They stayed at the table for around half an hour and watched other people dance and talk. Wolfram eyes discerned Eldara interacting with the two noblemen that he had seen before – the same two who had been muttering rude remarks about Eldara while he received his award. Now they were all smiles.
Sensing his stare, Eldara drifted over to Wolfram’s group. He saluted the princess with his glass and nodded to Conrart.
“Those two had just been badmouthing you no less than an hour ago, and now they are your best buddies,” Wolfram said with a disgusted snicker.
“Who? Oh, them.” Eldara said when Wolfram discreetly pointed out the two noblemen. “They are always like that; they’re my cousins.”
“Oh.”
Eldara chuckled. “Yes. By the way, the feeling is mutual so I would not even begin to think of being insulted.”
Wolfram rolled his eyes. “How charming.”
Wolfram and Odela went for a dance again, leaving Conrart and Eldara to enjoy each other’s company. The two didn’t last long together, Eldara floating off in search of a more agreeable companion.
- - -
“You really did have fun this evening,” Eldara was saying to Wolfram after the ball when they were walking down to their rooms. “I haven’t seen you so content in a long time.”
“It was great,” Wolfram agreed.
“Too bad we are leaving tomorrow,” Eldara teased him.
Wolfram chuckled. “I definitely wouldn’t mind a second ball.”
They stopped at Wolfram’s door. After biding short goodbyes, they split up to their respective rooms and went to rest.
- - -
The dining room was filled with the gentle hum of quiet talking. Some guests were still sleepy, others hungover, the rest just wanted to enjoy a calm meal.
Wolfram was eating scrambled eggs with relish. He had a restful night’s sleep and was in a good mood. He caught Princess Odela’s eye and smiled at her. She returned the smile and sipped her juice. Wolfram’s eyes left her and concentrated on the queen, who was offering her mother-in-law some chocolate. The woman turned her head away slightly, refusing, but not before Wolfram saw her glare at her daughter-in-law. Wolfram lowered his eyes and scooped some more scrambled eggs.
After breakfast, everyone was thanked for their support and attendance. The guests started dispersing, getting ready to journey home.
Princess Odela approached Wolfram to wish him a safe trip home. Thanking her, Wolfram suddenly saw von Sedera wink at him; at that moment the duke was talking to Eldara. Wolfram ignored the wink and focused back on the princess.
Once they said their goodbyes, Wolfram and Eldara left the castle. Their men were ready, waiting for them. Wolfram climbed into the carriage after the duke and they set off.
“Why do I feel that von Sedera takes a special interest in me?” Wolfram asked Eldara when they were a few kilometers away from the capital.
Eldara laughed softly. “You shouldn’t let that bother you.”
“But it does bother me.”
“Well, don’t tell him that I told you, but I think he finds you adorable.”
Wolfram sputtered indignantly. “He what?! Why?”
“Um… I suppose he still can’t get over the fact that you socked me and then ran away like a wronged kid.”
“Ugh. That does make me sound childish but not adorable.”
“He adores children, you see. Let’s just say he finds you cute.”
Wolfram rolled his eyes.
“I see the curiosity goes both ways, though,” Eldara said, amused. “You’re no less interested in him than he is in you. I guess that your interests are of an entirely different nature.”
Wolfram felt himself blush lightly. That was true. There was something about Neryan von Sedera that bothered him. It was not exactly the man that bothered him. It was actually his relationship with Eldara. He had caught himself speculating about how the two met, had sex, and then returned to their daily lives more times than he would care to admit. He found it peculiar. Even more peculiar was the fact that Eldara seemed to be to von Sedera what Wolfram was to Eldara.
Eldara couldn’t help grinning at Wolfram’s unguarded expressions. “If you are curious about how we have sex, I will let you try; we have never gotten around to that, have we?”
Wolfram’s blush deepened. “Yes,” he muttered. “You promised.”
“It won’t be the same, though,” Eldara warned. “Far from it, in fact.”
Wolfram tried to fight his blush but failed. “Well, of course it won’t,” he said.
“Just making certain that you know. You may even dislike it. People’s preferences vary a lot when it comes to sex.”
Wolfram kept quiet. He had no experience with that so he wasn’t able to compare. It did make him curious, though.
“It doesn’t seem like we have very different ones,” Wolfram muttered softly, making Eldara chuckle.
“We have a great chemistry, indeed. I must admit I really did not expect that. Then, again, it is always easier with men than women.”
“Really?”
The duke nodded. “Oh, yes.” He thought for a moment. “Well, not necessarily, I suppose. You can be in trouble if you like the very emotional ‘drama-queen’ type – they can be really obnoxious.”
Wolfram nodded. He had met a few men fitting Eldara’s description. He found them disturbing, borderline repulsive even. Their strange mannerisms, which so closely reminded him of a woman’s, confused him. Yet this particular type of man was always seen in the company of other men.
“I suppose it depends on the level of attachment…how far you let yourself fall. I mean, how deep your trust goes. That’s…the question of attachment, isn’t it?”
Eldara eyed the blond. For someone who was so inexperienced, Wolfram had surprising insight. “Yes, that’s probably what it is. I’m more interested in playing around.”
Wolfram chuckled. “And yet you’ll marry one day. And a woman at that.”
“Well, I did tell you that I don’t spurn women.”
“You may be told to marry someone for political reasons.”
The duke nodded. “That could also happen.”
Wolfram thought for a moment. The idea of Eldara marrying someone against his will irked him. He knew that the duke wouldn’t rest until he’d made the most of the situation, but the poor woman who would be ordered to marry him would probably be in trouble. Then again, it completely depended on the situation. Maybe Eldara would actually like her. He couldn’t imagine that, though. Even if Eldara were able to make it seem as if everything had been his idea, in the end, he would not able to lie to himself. He was very territorial when it came to making decisions. There would be serious consequences for anyone who made such important choices on his behalf without his full consent.
“The same goes for you, though. Is what you’re thinking now?” Eldara asked, misunderstanding Wolfram’s silence.
“Oh.” Wolfram shook his head. “No. There is no one who would make that choice for me.”
“Von Voltaire?”
Wolfram laughed. “Gwendal? No, he would never.”
“His Majesty Shibuya?”
Wolfram rolled his eyes. “After what happened to our engagement… Let’s just say I don’t think he would ever even dare to advise me on whom to marry.” Wolfram’s face clouded when he had a vague recollection of his dream about Yuuri giving him away to Neryan von Sedera as a part of some contract between the two countries. He shook his head. It was just a stupid dream.

ooOoOoOoo

After a few days, they reached Raizgad. It was only about five o’clock in the evening, but it was already dark so they stopped to rest in the tavern they had spent a night at earlier on their journey to the palace. They could have travelled further, but the duke had decided against it.
Everyone filed into the tavern and headed straight for the counter to order dinner. They had to wait to be served however, because the owner assigned them their rooms first. He gave out the keys, and Wolfram went to his and Eldara’s room to wash his hands and face. He took his coat and hat off and hung them on a hook next to the door. A few minutes later, a stable boy carrying a towel and a basin of water entered.
Wolfram was washing his face in the washbasin with lukewarm water when he heard steps behind him. Wondering why the stable boy was still around, he turned but only managed to get half-way before a hand covered his mouth. He felt another hand wrap around his left wrist at the same time. He shifted sideways and elbowed the body behind him while smashing his head into the attacker’s nose. He was almost free but a wave of weakness and nausea washed over him, nearly causing him to drop to his knees next to his attacker. His mind clouding instantly, Wolfram was able to hold onto one fleeting thought – Esoteric Stones. That knowledge was completely useless however, since he couldn’t do anything about it. His skin felt as though it was on fire; it burned so much that it was probably peeling off.
The blond’s mouth was covered again. He struggled to make sense of anything. Wolfram’s ears registered the angry words spoken in fervor but he could neither understand nor concentrate on them. The pain was too much and he was about to throw up. He tried to free himself, but his movements were so meek that they only earned him condescending laughter. Another bolt of panic shot up the blond’s spine when he realized that the attacker was groping the front of his trousers. A wave of nausea hit him and he doubled over. He heard the other man curse.
The “accident” didn’t change the attacker’s plans and he started working on Wolfram’s belt. Wolfram’s mouth wasn’t covered anymore but the blond wasn’t able to summon any strength to call out; the blinding pain in his chest was choking him. Yet, in a bout of blind rage, he managed to reach out to his fire element. He vaguely felt the attacker move away from him. Turning around unseeing, Wolfram caught the other man’s head with his palm and pushed it sideways with all his might. It hit against something and he felt the opposing body sag with no resistance left.
Wolfram’s own head was bursting with pain and he held it, trying to somehow ease the feeling and stop the buzzing. The spasms in his chest weren’t ceasing either. Disoriented, he half-crawled, half-staggered in the direction he guessed the door was. All the while he was afraid that the other man would grab him again and drag him back into the room.
The corridor was empty or if there were people there, he simply didn’t notice them. Like a moth drawn to light, he stumbled further, into what happened to be the chandelier downstairs.
The falling body made the people at the tables closest to him get up in alarm. Yozak was first to rush to Wolfram, who had just rolled down the stairs. At first, the captain could not understand what happened. He thought that someone had pushed him down. He glanced up but couldn’t see anyone. He motioned for his men to go up.
“How is he?” Conrart demanded having overcome his initial shock; he was trying to push Yozak away from his brother.
The blond was incoherent and was, most likely, suffering from a concussion. Yozak also noted the faint smell of vomit coming from the blond. He started patting down him down to make sure that there were no broken bones. Someone shoved him out of the way by his shoulders and the captain’s eyes shot to another blue-coated soldier.
“There’s an Esoteric Stone somewhere,” Morgan explained, grimacing, continuing to push the captain aside unceremoniously. “Can’t you feel it? Move before you get sick again.”
Yozak moved away and, Morgan, who was a full-blooded Demon, turned to Conrart. “Sir? Could you…?”
They watched Conrart pat down Wolfram’s jacket. Then his hand delved in the blond’s pocket. He pulled out a sizable stone and threw it immediately to the ground, away from Wolfram.
Disgusted, both Yozak and Morgan distanced themselves from the stone.
“Captain, there’s a dead body in von Bielefeld’s room!” one of the guards called from upstairs.
“Fuck me sideways,” cursed Yozak. He turned back to the Esoteric Stone on the floor. “Destroy it, someone,” he grunted towards the soldiers that were milling at the bottom of the stairs; Esoteric Stones had no effect on any of the duke’s men, and he hoped at least one of them would carry his order out.
“What happened?”
Yozak turned to see the duke, who had just entered the tavern, returning from the lavatory. He and two of his men stood at the doorway, alert, trying to see past his shoulders. They moved aside to let one of the duke’s men pass with the stone. Yozak shifted to the right, revealing the blond lying on the stairs. Wolfram seemed to be regaining his senses.
“Someone put an Esoteric Stone in his pocket,” Yozak explained. “He fell down the stairs.”
Eldara’s eyes swept over the tavern. “Someone pushed him? Did he break anything?”
“We’ll see,” Yozak said. He saw Conrart bending down and hefting the blond into his arms. “Up!” he ordered two of his other men, pointing up the stairs.
Conrart let the guards pass in front of him then followed them. He stopped outside Wolfram’s room. “Is it safe inside?” he asked.
The guards nodded. “It’s completely safe, sir. There’s nothing else inside except the dead body.”
“Esoteric Stones?” Yozak asked.
“We can’t feel any, sir.”
With a nod, Conrart carried Wolfram into the room and, after laying him onto the bed, undressed him. His brother’s body had broken out in a rash of bright red blotches. It didn’t seem like there were any broken bones, neither did he find any more Esoteric Stones in the blond’s clothing. Covering the still dizzy and hardly comprehending man with a duvet, he asked for a basin of cold water and a sponge. Waiting for them to be delivered he went to take the look at the corpse.
Yozak and Eldara were inspecting the dead body on the floor.
“How is he?” the duke, who was leaning over the dead man, asked.
“I think the only things that happened to him are the Esoteric Stone poisoning and a few bruises from rolling down the stairs, Your Grace,” Conrart said. “The blood isn’t his.”
“That’s a relief,” the duke said, standing up. “I’ll tell my men to take a look at this bastard. Maybe someone will recognize him.”
Yozak nodded but gave looked dubiously at the body. The attacker had been twice over: the body was one huge shashlik, I’m not sure what this word means but I’m assuming you’re correct so I’ll leave it) and it was very well-done. Half of his head was missing, the other half was hanging on the wall, on the towel rack just where Wolfram had smashed it. The Esoteric Stone had obviously brought the intruder a false sense of security; he should have killed Wolfram when he had an opportunity instead of letting him get close.
Angered, Yozak spat onto the dead body and turned away. He was responsible for von Bielefeld’s security. All he had done now was come in late and gather up a dead body.
“Clean this shit up,” he growled at Morgan, who had appeared in the doorway.
Morgan grimaced at the morbid sight. “Where do I put him, Captain?”
“Like fuck I care. Throw him into a ditch or something.”
“Language, Captain,” the duke warned. “And no one is moving him anywhere before my men take a look at his face.”
Morgan moved aside to let the duke pass. Yozak rolled his eyes. He turned to Morgan. “Did they get rid of that damn stone?”
“Yes, Captain. Shattered it and buried the remains in clay jars.”
“Good.”
Both of them watched the duke’s men file into the room to try and recognize the man.
“I think I know who he is,” one of them said finally. “During the raid on Ruan I heard someone say there were six or seven of the bandits. We found only six. This is probably the seventh.”
“Cut his hands off and hang him on the gates,” the duke ordered; he had never had any patience with bandits.
Tbc
- 38
- 39
- 40
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