Daramlhoardd’s War

Here is your meat sire, done as you like it,” Alderod bent low and handed his lord and master a steaming platter of horse meat and cracked marrow bones.
Daramlhoardd took his ease in the big leather folding chair that always went with him. Hauberk, helm and sword rested on the blood stained grass. The first two buttons of his red silk tunic were undone.
A golden glint caught Alderod’s eyes.
Two rubies, in a circle of gold hung down from Daramlhoardd’s thick neck on a heavy silver chain. It wasn’t the ring that filled his body with tremors. It was the slender white finger inside the ring that brought fear to his heart.
Alderod recognized the thin scar just behind the nail. It was the finger of his beloved wife Sharador. “She must be dead,” echoed dully in his mind. “If she’s dead then our little ones must be as well.” Just thinking of how cruel their end must have been, brought a cold sweat to his brow and tears to his eyes.
His master noticed the trembling and mumbled through a mouthful of warm horse. “What’s wrong with you?” Crumbs of meat dribbled out of his mouth and were caught in the short white hairs of his beard.
The answer was servile and low, “A bit of a chill master, nothing for you to worry your noble head about.”
“I wasn’t worried,” more crumbs of a well chewed Xzyander spilled out.
“Will there be anything else my lord?” Alderod kept his eyes glued to the ground.
Daramlhoardd swallowed the last bit of meat in his mouth. “Have a tent set up for me. Make a soft bed inside then bring that witches brat to it. I may as well have some pleasure from her before I slit her throat. Strip her naked and make certain she is washed.”
“As you command,” one more low, servile bow. Adelrod wished he had the courage to draw his sword and drive it deep into this depraved, foul thing but he did not.
“Now what could have made that cur tremble so?” One thought after another chased their tails through Daramlhoardd’s twisted mind. “Was that sweat upon his brow? How can he be cold and hot at the same time?” He shook his head. The movement caused the ring and finger to move against his neck. He lifted it up with his hand. A light flashed within his mind.
“Ah so, the cur knows or at least guesses. I’ll deal with him after I have dealt with that whelp.” The elf lord bit of another large chunk of horse. More blood and juices flowed out of his mouth and into his beard.


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