Asa rubbed his neck and turned awake to find himself lying on top of a pile of musty smelling cereal grass. A mouse darted up from his feet and into a crack in the corner of the wall.
Looking up, he could see that three sides of the wall were made of large blocks of bluestone, with only some dim light leaking in through two ventilation holes in the wall that were slightly larger than a fist. The other side is arm-thick wooden fence, outside the wooden fence there are several more wooden fences, this is a gloomy dungeon.
Just a moment ago, he was in an opulent ducal palace, but now he was lying in a dungeon cell. The significant contrast made Asa's head still dizzy for a moment, not knowing what was going on. He shook his head and thought back carefully, but was confused.
Had the knight suspected something was wrong between himself and his fiancée? Or did he think he heard that his fiancée's injuries were self-inflicted? Asa carefully filtered the words of his report through his mind, and indeed there were no holes. He'd taken care of the story about what happened in the swamp on his way to the kingdom. Was it that knight's own unauthorized claim? Then the only way to tell the Duke-sama was to speak to him face to face.
Asa suddenly heard strange sounds from a nearby cell. It was the gasping moans of a man and a woman.
Before he could react to what was going on, the dungeon door was kicked open with a bang. A thin man dressed as a jailer rushed in, straight to the door of the cell where someone was moaning kicking at the wooden bars above him yelling, "Get out!"
Inside, there were a few groans of great effort, then a fatter jailer came out slowly, carrying his pants.
The skinny jailer shouted, "What's the matter with you? Didn't we agree I'd go first?"
The fat jailer smacked his lips and replied slowly, "Who told you to come so late, after the shift change time you haven't come yet, I've been waiting for you."
The skinny jailer also shouted: "Fuck you, flat time did not see you so attentive to wait, Lao Zi late for a few minutes you have to whine for half a day, now you are not in a hurry to go back, here to Lao Zi blind enjoyment. Why do you want me to help you cook?"
The fat man still did not panic and said, "Forget it, since we have already done it, there is no use in saying it again, whether you do it or not is up to you, or you wait for her to let it out before you go."
The thin man more and more stormy: "Fuck you!
Asa approached the wooden fence and said to the two jailers outside, "I want to see Duke Mrak" pondering in his mind how he would explain this to the Duke.
"See your mother!" The skinny man twisted violently and flew up with a kick, hitting the completely unguarded Asa square in the chest.
The sound of bones breaking was unusually clear among the quiet dungeon. A few more ribs in the still fragile chest were broken by this kick, and with a tightness in his chest, Asa fell backward, hitting the back of his head squarely on a jutting rock under the straw, and fainted with a blackness before his eyes.
The two jailers heard the crisp sound and saw the prisoner fall to the ground and then not move. The fat man panicked and opened the fence, came over to look at Asa, probed his nose, and exclaimed, "Oh no, out of breath!" And touched his chest. "Several ribs are broken. It seems like even the heartbeat is gone."
The thin man was also secretly surprised by the power of the kick, but forced himself to play it cool and growled, "Panic a bird! What's the fuss about a dead prisoner? I've told you before that my kung fu is very tough, I was famous when I was a soldier. You go ask back then."
The fat man looked at the thin man in horror, his voice sifted as he said, "This prisoner is a spy that the Duke's house just sent over, saying that he told to keep a good watch over it, it was Baron Clovis himself who caught it, he might even come for arraignment."
The thin man was still intoxicated by the valor of that kick that killed him, and his eyes glared, "Fear a bird." As if even if the baron himself came, the big deal was that he kicked to death. But a little slow breath, the heart also drums, after all, near the pagans and spies of the matter is very fierce, kill a spy, may be suspected of the same spy and go to kill the suspicion, and the baron's severity is notorious. The thin man's voice was number one smaller: "Wait for me to think about it"
A short time later, when the two jailers had just finished setting up, Knight Clovis arrived.
"Escaped?" The knight's face was greener than the color of the lapis lazuli on the wall.
The two jailers covered their heads and necks, and the thin man replied in a life-threatening voice, "He said he was badly wounded and asked us to get him a doctor. This is an important prisoner you have captured, we were afraid that he would really die, so we went in to check on him, how did we know that he suddenly knocked us out and ran away." To prove his loyalty to his duty, he pointed to the other cells and said, "You ask the other prisoners, they all saw it with their own eyes." A chorus of half-dead testimonials rang throughout the dungeon.
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Clovis' eyes exploded with a gleam of light that could almost be used to kill someone, staring at the two guards and dropping the sentence, "Don't move here, wait for me to come back." Turning around, he dashed out of the dungeon.
Until the footsteps disappeared for a while, the thin man only breathed a sigh of relief, with a very disdainful tone to express dissatisfaction: "What stinking stand, is not by virtue of the birth of a good point, the old man, if also born in the Ernie family, his age when the general." Looked at the fat man is still trembling, but also fear just now in the eyes of the knight, the heart of the valor of the gas and resurrection. Pat the fat man's shoulder and said, "How? You also said you want to do it yourself to deal with the body, which is time-consuming and easy to be found, directly send that thing to the old man Sandro not on the line? It's much faster for him to help us solve the problem, if you do it, you won't make it in time just now."
The fat man was still shaking, even his voice was not very clear: "His eyes are so scary."
The thin man frothed at the mouth and said, "I told you earlier that he, these gentlemen just like to put up a show, just relying on the power of the family, is the frame to scare people. If it's a commoner, I just kick it to death," the fat man echoed.
Whether it is to talk vigorously or listen attentively, the two have been standing there and did not move.
It didn't take too long, even before their legs got how sore they were, Clovis had already returned to the prison after arranging the capture of the royal capital's close guards.
"Has the prisoner talked to anyone here yet?"
"Seems like no" the thin man didn't dare to meet Clovis's gaze squarely and answered by looking at the wall behind him. The fat man just stared at the floor and shivered.
"Well - like?" Kravis's voice was like a question and like he was talking to himself. The two jailers didn't dare to answer.
"Eh." As if he had figured something out and decided on an idea, Kravis nodded slowly to himself.
"No one will not make a mistake, even if once a mistake is made, the amount to make amends on the line, regret and blame is useless. You guys say is not it?" The two jailers found that the knight's face was not so ugly anymore, no longer that horrible green color, there was even a bit of warmth in his eyes, and what he said to them seemed to be forgiveness to comfort them as well. This relieved them, and the thin man hastily replied, "Yes, yes, we will surely make amends."
"Well, well, it is only right that you should say so." Clovis put his hands on the shoulders of the two jailers, which completely flattered them. The fat man was completely unafraid, and felt that this handsome and relatable young nobleman was simply more worthy of reverence than an idol in a church. The thin man also admitted from the bottom of his heart that this rich boy probably did have to be a little bit taller than himself.
'Bang'. A muffled sound echoed through the air of the dungeon.
Two bodies, one fat and one skinny, fell down snuggly, as if they had a good friendship, and even the blood and brains were mixed together, no longer distinguishable from each other. There were cries of alarm from inside the few bars that were close enough to see the place clearly.
Knight Clovis furrowed his brows majestically, and in his slow, steady tones, like an adult reprimanding a small child, he chided the rising screams, "What's the noise? They are merely taking their responsibilities. You have responsibilities as well."
Back at the ducal palace, Duke Mrak did not change his expression greatly when he learned of the prisoner's escape, but only calmly ordered that the prisoner's belongings be brought to him.
The Knight of Clovis looked on beside him and felt a heartfelt admiration for the Duke's calm, watery demeanor. This is a person who never let people know what he is thinking, but that pair of narrowed up with a little smile eyes seem to be able to see through the depths of anyone's heart secret. It was something Clovis wanted to learn.
Holding the knife in his hand and scrutinizing it, the Duke's eyes narrowed to a fine point. He stroked his fingers along the blade and hovered, looking at it for a long time before suddenly asking Kravis, "What kind of knife do you think this is."
Clovis took a closer look and replied, "Not a soldier's weapon made in a regular arms factory, it was forged in a general private blacksmith store," and looked at it more closely. "A very good blacksmith."
"Yes, a very good blacksmith made it. The slant of the blade, the length, the variations in thickness are all well mastered. And can you see any relationship between this blacksmith and the user of this blade?"
Clovis looked closely, but could not tell. Only to answer, "Can't tell."
"The blade is practical, every useful part of it is properly crafted, but there is no sign of decoration, not even the bare minimum. That is to say, the knife is not a cargo, or even a gift between friends. It is as if it were for one's own use." The Duke asked, "How old would you say the soldier was?"
"About twenty or so."
"If he made this knife himself, then he had to start practicing his blacksmithing craft in his mother's womb. The one who made this knife would have been his elder, probably his father." The Duke's deduction made Clovis go five for five. "The iron used in this knife is also fine concentrate, how could a common blacksmith's family have so much fine concentrate for a man who would go on to become a temporary hired soldier? Unless it is."
"Unless his house is near the mines where the concentrates are produced." Clovis then finished. "My subordinate will send someone to Calendo to investigate."
"No need, it's only been less than an hour anyway, people must still be in town, just look for them with all your heart." The Duke put his sword down. "Where is the chair the soldier sat in, the cup he used?"
"En this one I ordered thrown away."
"Thrown away?" A rare moment of surprise appeared in the Duke's eyes. "Why?"
"I thought it would be a complete sacrilege to keep things used by that sort of person in the mansion."
The Duke stared at Clovis for a while. Even though he knew that His Excellency the Duke didn't mean to be angry or reproachful, Kravis's back still felt a little hairy.
"You are still too young." The Duke withdrew his gaze and concluded in a somewhat helpless tone. Then he gave an order, "Tell the officers of the royal capital's close guards that this spy is extremely dangerous, execute him on the spot when you find him, and do not talk to him."
"Yes." Clovis led the order and retreated. He had great faith in the efficiency of the royal capital's close guards, maybe that soldier was now a dead man.
"How is it still alive?"
Asa turned awake, and the first thing he heard was a complaint. This tone often appeared in the food market. It would immediately appear when an old woman bought vegetables and meat that were not as good as they should be, or that were substandard.