The Naked Truth…
Dragged along on legs that barely supported his weight by strange hands and yelling voices, through passage ways that were a blur of polished marble, blood splattered and smoke stained. There was fighting somewhere echoing throughout the halls and the distant frantic screams of a tormented woman.
The entire estate was in utter chaos as clansmen clashed over contradicting circumstances and in lack of any form of order, swords were drawn and blood was shed. The main hall resembled more of a fighting arena than court chambers, Master Davenport had neglected his duties to the land in favor of his own perverted passion for boys and blood, allowing the clan council to tear itself apart from within.
The youth that dragged Kane painfully along through the corridors was shouting out to his fellows, calling to clashing troops, bellowing atop his lungs…
“DAVENPORT IS DEAD! HE KILLED HIM! THE BASTARD IS DEAD, SLAIN! DAVENPORT HAS BEEN SLAUGHTERED!” He continued, relentless, drawing a large crowd of clansmen in the main hall. Curious and dubious they approached the lad, bombarding him with questions and demanding evidence.
“He’s Dead I tell you all… I watched this man crush the old perverts skull with his bare hands!”
“Nonsense! The Man’s half dead…”
“Prove it! Where’s the body?”
More voices cried out, their statements and questions rolled into a incomprehensible din… Until Davenport’s lifeless corpse was dragged into the chamber and strung up by the neck, dangling by an already damaged chandelier, morbidly swinging, raining blood on the dining table…
Kane slumped, overwhelmed by the anarchy erupting around him… The lad simply dumped him in an over-sized chair and continued shouting the odds… He starred at the ceiling, no chains, that was pleasant. Gilded plaster work shimmered in the evening hazy sunshine, pouring through the tall glass doors. Arterial spray ruined the beauty and the stench of acrid smoke lingered, Kane looked down at his hands, slick with blood from the murder. He half expected to be lynched by this mob and he half welcomed the idea, desiring to be free from the pain which tore through his body, white hot and raw as the healing potion slowly wore off.
“Who are you?” The question brought to attention the fact that the room had fallen silent around him, all eyes bore into him with expectation. The youth pulled him to his feet and pushed him slightly forwards.
“I’m Kane.” His reply drew nothing but confused frowns and besides a strangers name was not much to go on, he was also aware that he was stood totally naked before a room full of hostile clansmen.
“Captain Kane Stone 32625, Under General Fendor in the Kings Army.” His voice cracked, “I suspect I was betrayed by The General, held here and punished for my crimes against Lord Pepe Montoto because I had an affair with his wife, the Princess Alleia.” He saw no point in lying and slumped back in the chair expecting a painful execution…
Instead there were ripples of discussion, low mutterings and debate. Finally a burly warrior stepped forth, his face carved in intricate scars.
“Well ‘Captain’ You’re in the Clan-lands now and our rules differ from those in the city, here we keep what we kill… You killed Davenport…” He paused to spit at the name. “This, the whole Northern Clan Territories, all fell under the command of that fancy pervert, so… Looks like you’re in charge here now…”
Anne Harrison 24.03.17