“From your speech I can conclude that you are not the laird of this keep and therefore have not received the proper training one of our rank receives. For that reason I will forgive you for your lack of…” He looked around the room, snarled his upper lip before continuing, “manners.”
Face as red, as his head, the man’s nostrils flared, “I’ll have you know sir, that while I am not the laird of this keep I am his cousin and first, Sir Samson Pedigree. My cousin Victor never fully recovered from his sickness no thanks to that demon loving witch.” And he spit on the floor beside his boot to emphasize his disgust.
With his face unaffected Lucien quelled the urge to reach and rip the man’s heart right out of chest and toss it to the dogs behind him. It was a truly viscous act, one he had done previously, and worked for getting a point across, however he would have to employ his cunning and not his strength…for the moment.
“Very well then lad, I won’t excuse you.” And with that calm response Lucien back handed the man across the face and sent him sprawling to the other side of the room only to catch him with his supernatural speed before he hit the floor. “Lad, be smart and tell your men to take a seat or I’ll have to get nasty. In fact why don’t you send them all off.”
After a shake of his head, eyes glowing with rage, Samson conceded. “Out all of ye, get to your posts.” He yelled. One minute of hesitation and then the room cleared. The only ones remaining were the dogs. After releasing, his neck and steadying Samson, Lucien helped himself to a couple of chicken legs and assumed the cleanest high back chair among the dogs. He broke off a piece at a time offering it to the beasts.
“Since it’s obvious your training is lacking I’m sure you won’t mind if I just help myself.” Samson shook with the effort to control his temper as he rubbed his jaw and joined Lucien sitting across from him.
“Where is your laird?” Lucien demanded.
“He is unwell and sees no one. Not even an agent of the king.” Samson retorted.
“Ah well lucky for you and your cousin today I am not on his majesty’s errand. So the crown itself hasn’t been officially insulted. No, today I am on business for my lady.” Samson eyes narrowed as Lucien pulled out the paper Tonni had presented him with concerning Trinity’s taxes. Samson was careful to watch Lucien as he reached for the document.
“It seems that there has been a mix up. For I know it to be a fact that the cottage and surrounding whole of Trinity Woods to be in good standing and paid in full as far as his majesty is concerned.” He stated in a solid and confident tone as he offered the now bare chicken bone to a dog and played with it idly.
“What concern is it of ye?”
“Obviously, you didn’t hear me when I said on “my lady’s” errand. Lady Aisleen Lemoine is my wife and Mistress of Eternal Valley. As her laird, it is my duty to see to all her …misunderstandings. And since the village and laird here make it a point to insult and afflict her with vile cursing and threats I came in her stead. Which reminds me…was it she you were referring to when you said no thanks to the healer?” Samson’s face flushed and he opened his mouth, closed it then, straightened his shoulders, and responded.
“Nay it was the one before her.” Lucien threw the bone and the dogs woofed running after it. At his blinking fast speed, he gripped Samon’s cheeks forcing his cracked thin lips into a pucker.
“So you insult my deceased mother in law?” Scared and shaking his head in disagreement Lucien allowed the warriors mask to fall into place. His feral beast like persona appeared as his eyes felt slanted and a snarl to his upper lip tickled the bottom of his nose. While he had never seen the beast like qualities he assumed at times those close to him said it was a sight that they themselves, other Eternals, quaked before.
“Listen well, you tell your laird he has three days to prepare for my arrival and make amends for that lie you hold. When I come, again I will see him and only him. In that time you will find a way to sufficiently apologize for the insult you paid to what is mine. If you don’t…” Lucien brought the trembling man’s face closer and growled deep from his throat. The acrid stench of urine suddenly saturated the air. One quick glance down confirmed Samson got the point. Social mask back in place Lucien smiled. Bowed slightly, patted each of the dogs, and walked from the great hall closing the door in his wake.
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