Chapter 11
March 21st - Outskirts of Grythen
Jaelon
Jaelon propped himself up on one arm with a groan. He looked down to his hand, which was weighed down by something cold, and a smile crept up his lips. His index finger was still hooked through the trigger guard of his gun. He raised his eyebrows, and then winced.
His left socket stung with a sharp pain while a dull ache from the back of his head which crashed on the ground was slowly coming to his attention. Instinctively, he fingered his left eye lightly and examined his fingers carefully. His eyes bulged in worry for any possible broken skin and subsequent scar.
No blood. Thank goodness.
He combed his shoulder-length hair delicately and organized his thoughts. His men were still unconscious, or at least they seemed to be. Money can never buy loyalty-his father had warned him that much, but at least money buys service and that was enough for him. All he needed to do was to seal their mouths with even more money and there will be none to testify against him.
Jaelon gasped loudly as he saw the messy splatter of blood on the ground an arm’s length away from where he sat. I got Dragonoir in the chest, didn’t I? Pride swelled in his head. Nobody could ever be fast enough for that man but, miraculously, he was.
His brows furrowed as he stared at the puddle of half-dried blood. He couldn’t have ran away with a hole like that. There wasn’t even a blood trail to indicate that he did. He couldn’t have just stopped bleeding all of a sudden.
Oh yes, of course. That sleeping beauty is missing too. His lips pulled into a menacing smile as he thought about the things he could do to her. Or with her. Knowing Zaelem, any girl he made contact with meant something unusual was going on between them, let alone a girl he kept in his shabby excuse for a house. And all the more am I going to take that girl for myself.
Jaelon stood up and dusted himself from head to toe. Pretending there was someone else to make eye contact with, he shrugged his denim jacket straight and struck a pose, moving his arms in one fluid move. Then, he jiggled his eyebrows and flashed his best smile. It was a routine he rehearsed countless times in front of the mirror and he always felt good when he did it.
It’s payback time, Dragon Boy.
March 21st - Grythen
Deinja
“Zaelem almost killed all of us, he went berserk! I am lucky to be standing in front of Your Majesty now! In my own defence, I had no choice but to open fire. I shot him somewhere near the shoulder to disarm him, but he managed to hit me so hard I was momentarily blinded and had no choice but to let him escape,” Jaelon ended sympathetically, his head hung low.
“Is that so, Master Yel?” Deinja entered the room soundlessly like a cat on its paws. He knew that Zaelem would have been too quick for a bullet. He’s not telling the whole story.
The King waved his Segaris over to sit beside him, dispensing with the formal greetings as usual.
“Well, t-t-that was what really happened, M-Master Highbridge… If Your Majesty sends men after him now, the traitor would be easily apprehended. Ahem, in any case, he is, um, seriously injured now and couldn’t have escaped far,” Jaelon continued.
Deinja chuckled inwardly. He knew he made always made people nervous, and nervousness is a good thing when you’re grilling someone. The more uneasy someone is, the more loopholes he reveals. Changing the subject won’t help a thing, sonny.
“Yes, I think this would be appropriate. Master Yel, since you know where he left from, I shall leave you to lead Combat Team One,” the King ended grandly.
“My honour, Your Majesty,” Jaelon knelt down and bowed his head, accepting the leadership enthusiastically.
The silly Telcharch practically skipped his way out of the room. Deinja eyed him sceptically. He knew young Master Yel had always wanted to be a Wesarsh, but was unable to graduate from Telcharch Academy due to unsatisfactory performance. This isn’t a simpleton; this is an ambitious idiot.
“Oh, my Segaris, do you have something to report?” the King finally turned his attention to the noble sitting beside him.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Deinja bowed his head slightly before looking up eagerly.
“It’s the red star.”
Previous: Chapter 10
Next: Chapter 12