Lord Van Margard By Lord Van Vanaurd Summary

The general made one of his deepest bows. "I see," he said. "Splendid! One of us is to furnish a repast for the hounds. The other will sleep in this very excellent bed. On guard, Rainsford."

The nobleman’s eyebrow shot higher into his hairline, and murmurs- verbal and mental- broke out across the crowd. Charles ignored them, and went on. “If you’ll spare him for the night- and I think you can, as we’ve all had our show,” he said. “I plan to seek the general in the morning.”

“I immediately sent a non-commissioned officer and 12 men to protect both the sentry and the king's money, and very soon followed myself to prevent, if possible, all disorder, fearing lest the officer and soldiers, by the

“Definitely not. The castle is a den of rumors, as you well know, and I’ve heard… things. Not that I engage in gossip, but it’s unavoidable. People… talk.”

"A lot of your men are dead my dear Count. Don't worry I assure you that when this army reach the Southern Isles, there will be very few of your men in it. We will need to make a lot of rearguard actions to protect our retreat and that means a lot of casualties."

I'd be happy to get y-your armor and sword for you. N-now, just wait here and m-maybe talk to to the other Knights." nervously stammered the man. Silverson nodded and waited. Another man, this time in knight armor, walked up to him.

“It’s all right,” came a response from the tree line, the voice sounding familiar. A thin man stepped from the woods: Merlin. “It’s only me. Mind if I have a seat?”

“Since you’ve invited yourself along, you might tell me why this Emmett is following you.”

Assef called the guards back into the room. “I want you to listen to me,” he said to them. “In a moment, I’m going to close the door. Then he and I are going to finish an old bit of business. No matter what you hear, don’t come in! Do you hear me? Don’t come in!”

Percival and Gwaine skulked across the room and hid behind the screen, half-standing, half-crouching, waiting. As Gwaine predicted, moments later, Sir Leon entered. Save the clink of Leon dropping his chainmail and onto the bench, the armory remained quiet.

“I am Nathan Andrews. I have come to explore and study this magnificent castle.” Before he can ask her to introduce herself, she’s attacking him. With expert instincts, his hand pull the sword from its sheath with ease in time to block a blow. “Woah! Wait! What did I do wrong?”

By my brotherhood, the letter was not nice but full of charge, of dear import, and the neglecting it. May do much danger. Friar John, go home. Get me an iron crow and bring it straight. Unto my cell {V.iii.14-22}”.

“Listen, Taran,” he said gravely, “it is of the utmost importance that you get out of the city and to safety. We can’t lose you to the enemy.” He stood up and retrieved a sword in a black sheath from his desk.

"Because you're impatient and punctual, so I can depend on you to bring the guys there on time," she said. I gave her a tiring look. Although flattering worked pretty well on me, in this case,

Saxe looked up and stared into Larsen’s face. Larsen presented the epitome of calm. Saxe seemed unnerved by it and changed the subject. “I presume you have a plan in place while I’m hunting down your brother. The disaster you allowed to happen at the Founders Day banquet needs to be