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Viewing Single Post From: Frostbitten

His mind was made, and all her words would not change anything; all her attempts fell dull on his ears. Brown looked away from her, not wanting anything more from the women. She would prattle at him, give him a beautiful song if he stayed with her? Silly business.

"I will leave then." The women had instructed him to leave, perhaps they were right. A Lord should not mingle long with peasants. Though there was more to it than that, he was sure. She had helped him in a time of need, Brown was begening to enjoy her company. Een was an intelligent women, that shouldn't have scared him the way it did, but he only knew whores. If they both believe I'm being manipulated by the other, then they both are trying to manipulate me. I must choose the best host. I'm sorry, Een.

He left. His footsteps echoing out.

--

"NO! This is useless at its core. I will not stand beside that bastard!" Sir Oryn went.

"You have little choice, I won't allow you to go back to my brother with this information. I've told you where I'm going and, he'll not know until it's too late."

"Your duty to Holliard--"

"Right now, my duty is to Brown, and I must try my best to give him what my father has promised." Rayond said.

Downstairs had become a battle arena, words were being tossed like knives, all of which were hitting the mark. Rayond stood near the table where the two knights sat, elbows on the table, bewilderment splattered on their faces. Dayton stared off into the area around the room, not particularly focusing on anything. Old Oryn's eyes locked with Rayond's.

"Your plan is childish. The Cipiter? We have nothing that the Old goat would want!"

"I am what he wants."

"Heh, that's not as coy as you think. You slew his eldest in the shadow of the mountain and now you assume--you think he'll want something from you."

"He does. A marriage will fix the turmoil. That is the only solution I know."

"Go back to Holliard, don't start a war, he's your true brother."

"True brother, what is this talk?" Brown interjected, coming off the last step.

--

Nev was sinking into his chair, they were talking about his father weren't they? The old goat. Dammit. He made himself as small as he could, while the other squires watched the situation with growing interest.

--

"Put that bastard back in chains, Rayond! This I command, as your senior. Do me that favor, for all these years!"

Sir Oryn stood from his chair, drawing his long sword.

"What are you planning to do with that steel old man?" Brown said.

"Cut a bastards throat, and end this."

"Come, then." Brown said.

The old knight moved past Rayond and over to Brown. He lifted his sword, for all the years it had seen, it still sung like all the rest. Candlelight glinting off the metal--from the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of steel, then felt a pain in his arm. The meat fell away at the elbow, but the old man didn't scream.

"Your time as a knight is done, sir." Rayond's sword bloody in his hand. Then he struck the final blow.

"And you Dayton?"
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Frostbitten · Hiskarin Mountains


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