Daramlhoardd’s War

“We have a prisoner sire.” Cardom, a bloody knight of the realm, bowed low before his lord and master.
“Slit the cur’s throat,” Daramlhoardd grimaced and blinked his good eye. “Do it away from this field of honour. I wouldn’t want his cursed blood to taint that of my brave warriors.”
“You may want to see this one sire. It’s one from the house of Alldelhem.”
“From Alldelhem’s house you say.” The elf lord brushed a last tear away. “Are you certain of this?”
“I did not personally see the captive,” Cardom paused and took a deep breath.
The night wind was full of the odour of blood and death. So full, that it made the warrior’s heart beat quicken. “Those that were in on the capture say that the heraldic symbol is that of twin crimson roses on a field of blue.”
“Only someone that belongs to the freehold of that filthy vermin would dare wear such an evil device.” His cold chuckle froze the hearts of his army. A promise of having a new fly to pull wings off always delighted Daramlhoardd. “Bring him to me. Bring him to me at once.”
“It’s not a he sire, they say that it’s the lady Galowyn”.
“The lady Galowyn, are you certain? Why did you not tell me right away, instead of beating around the bush?” Daramlhoardd did not give his warrior time to answer, he snorted, chortled, “Galowyn is no lady. That loathsome thing is no more than a strumpet. That despicable insect was whelped on back castle stairs. Her mother was lower than any scullery maid. It was said and said often, that she lay down with hogs and dogs to get her pleasure.”

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