Edmund Mallory
08-31-2011, 03:49 AM
He held the letter in his hands, reading and re-reading it. It wasn’t true. There had to have been some mistake. Or this was some sort of trick. A forger pretending to be his cousin. Edmund sat down on the grass, his horse standing very still, not moving, waiting for his master to approach him before doing anything. But it would be a while. There were no tears. He merely stared straight ahead, looking out over the fields of wheat and grass, remembering when he was much younger. Saefa had been everything they’d needed. A haven, a home, a safe place. He could remember working with the horses late into the night with his cousins and then returning to the manor just before sunset to play with Zacharias in their fields. Fields much like the ones before him.
That childhood was long since gone. Jason and Edvard lay in the ground in Saefa, Zacharias would be laid in a tomb in Tiga… Edmund closed his eyes.
Donovan killed him. This man that had played their family like a lyre. Edmund would find him. He would pay for killing his brother. There would be no tears. Not now. Not later. But there was a distinct heaviness in his chest, a numbness in his fingers from the anger and sorrow that coursed through his veins. Donovan Castell would die… Edmund would see to that himself.
That childhood was long since gone. Jason and Edvard lay in the ground in Saefa, Zacharias would be laid in a tomb in Tiga… Edmund closed his eyes.
Donovan killed him. This man that had played their family like a lyre. Edmund would find him. He would pay for killing his brother. There would be no tears. Not now. Not later. But there was a distinct heaviness in his chest, a numbness in his fingers from the anger and sorrow that coursed through his veins. Donovan Castell would die… Edmund would see to that himself.