Hesse thinks Schneider makes too much noise. The taller guard should have joined an acting troupe and left soldiering to someone who knew how to keep his mouth shut. The commander gave them orders to talk about the king's mongrel, but Schneider is taking it to an extreme. Too loud, too long, too ridiculous. Everyone in the kingdom knows about Weller, most know about the bastard's father and grandfather.
The gods take pity on him and send the rest of the troop to their guard post before Hesse strangles his partner.
As a group, they break down the door to His Majesty's chambers, pouring into the room in time to see the mongrel press something shiny to his throat. Shouting an alarm, the commander signals for them to halt, growling. "Half-breed coward..."
The sound startles Conrad and he jerks up to the balls of his feet, crouched low in a defensive stance, knife held at the ready. Blood is spilling in a slow trickle down from the shallow cut at his throat--his interrupted attempt--and beneath him, the mattress feels uneven. It's poor ground on which to raise any defense. Speed and strength are no longer on his side and that means that the brunet has to rely on skill.
He smirks, a wry expression.
Skill. If that counted for anything, he'd have been out of here days ago.
The commander has called the guard to a halt and for a moment, Conrad and the human stare at one another.
"Half-breed coward..."
Brown eyes narrow darkly. "Human filth."The insult is whispered and in the Mazoku language, but the man can clearly tell by his tone and face that whatever Conrad had just said had not been very nice. He steps forward and Conrad retreats, knife still held at the ready. The company of men spreads out behind the commander and Conrad creeps backwards towards the edge of the bed,
( ... )
The commander snarls directions at his men,who fall back for a heartbeat to allow him to survey the situation and decide how to best handle the little coward. Typical behavior for one who'd betrayed His Majesty once already, but they had not counted on someone giving the mongrel a weapon.
Dripping blood from his injured arm, the commander signals for the men to lift the bed, giving them a better shot at the "Royal Consort." Ignoring broken fingers, half the men hoist the piece of furniture high off the floor. As one, the others dogpile on the halfbreed, holding him down and wrenching the knife away. As they drag Weller to his feet, the commander spits on him. "You're not so tough now, are you, mongrel?" The man grins as the spittle rolls down a pale, sunken cheek. "Not sure what His Majesty sees in you. You that good a lay, boy?" When he receives no answer, the human's grin fades. "Yeah? Well, you'd better watch it, or we'll bury you in that box someday."
Hot and sticky, the human's spittle slides down Conrad's cheek. His heart is pounding and his head is spinning for reasons he can't quite ascertain. Some distant, panicked terror claws at him, shrieking that he should run or fight or even just scream, but overlaid on all that, the cold calm remains.
These men wouldn't dare hurt him. The human would not tolerate it.
Conrad lift his chin, red-rimmed eyes glittering. "You want to kill me?" His rough whisper seems loud in the quiet room. "Then kill me, coward. Isn't it within your nature to strike at the unarmed? Sretsnom."
Comments 8
The gods take pity on him and send the rest of the troop to their guard post before Hesse strangles his partner.
As a group, they break down the door to His Majesty's chambers, pouring into the room in time to see the mongrel press something shiny to his throat. Shouting an alarm, the commander signals for them to halt, growling. "Half-breed coward..."
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He smirks, a wry expression.
Skill. If that counted for anything, he'd have been out of here days ago.
The commander has called the guard to a halt and for a moment, Conrad and the human stare at one another.
"Half-breed coward..."
Brown eyes narrow darkly. "Human filth."The insult is whispered and in the Mazoku language, but the man can clearly tell by his tone and face that whatever Conrad had just said had not been very nice. He steps forward and Conrad retreats, knife still held at the ready. The company of men spreads out behind the commander and Conrad creeps backwards towards the edge of the bed, ( ... )
Reply
Dripping blood from his injured arm, the commander signals for the men to lift the bed, giving them a better shot at the "Royal Consort." Ignoring broken fingers, half the men hoist the piece of furniture high off the floor. As one, the others dogpile on the halfbreed, holding him down and wrenching the knife away. As they drag Weller to his feet, the commander spits on him. "You're not so tough now, are you, mongrel?" The man grins as the spittle rolls down a pale, sunken cheek. "Not sure what His Majesty sees in you. You that good a lay, boy?" When he receives no answer, the human's grin fades. "Yeah? Well, you'd better watch it, or we'll bury you in that box someday."
Reply
These men wouldn't dare hurt him. The human would not tolerate it.
Conrad lift his chin, red-rimmed eyes glittering. "You want to kill me?" His rough whisper seems loud in the quiet room. "Then kill me, coward. Isn't it within your nature to strike at the unarmed? Sretsnom."
Reply
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