Do you think you could put that boot back on?" he added mildly. "The window can only let in a limited ammount of fresh air and your socks are a tough ripe, to put it mildly."
Oh, sorry!" said Horace, tugging the riding boot back on over his sock. Now that Halt mentioned it, he was aware of a rather strong odor in the room.
Have you seen them?" he asked. Arrow looked at him disinterestedly. Will frowned.
Not talking, eh?" he said. "Maybe you're a little hoarse."
He cackled breifly at his own wit.
He'd just have to lie there and die, watched over by strange stars who didn't know him, didn't care for him.
It was very sad, really.
He could bear the dying, but not the disappointment.
John FlanaganThat's a big nose," he croaked and instantly realized he shouldn't have said something so impolite. I must be light headed, e thought. But the face smiled. The teeth seemed inordinatley white against the dark beard and skin.
The only one I have," he said.
Got to keep losing horses," he said drowsily. "Bad habit.
John FlanaganIt’s a big raised platform at the end of the square, with steps running up to it.”
Like a stage?” Evanlyn suggested. “Maybe they’re planning to put on a play?”
Or an execution,” Horace said.
King Duncan looked up and swept his gaze slowly around the room. Cassandra, he saw, was defiant as ever. Arald's face was set and determined. Halt and Crowley's faces were inscrutable in the shadows of their cowls. The two younger men were both a little wide-eyed- obviously uncomfortable at the emotions that had been bared in the room. There was still a hint of admiration in Will's eyes, however, as he continued to stare at the Baron. Rodney was nodding in agreement with Arald's statements, while Gilan made a show of studying his nails.
John FlanaganShall I call the others back in?"
He nodded. "Why ask me? It's all of you who are making the decisions.
Undoubtedly, Baron Arald thought with a deep sense of pride and satisfaction, this would go down as the weddiong of the year. Perhaps of the decade.
Already, it had the hallmarks of a roaring success . The Bores' Table was well attended with a group of eight people, currently vying to see who could be the most uninteresting, overbearing, and repetitive. Other guests glanced in their direction, giving silent thanks to the organizers who had seperated them from such dread-ful people.
There had been inevitable tearful flouncing and shrill recriminations when a girlfriend of one of the younger warriors from Sir Rodney's Battleschool had caught her boyfriend kissing another girl in a darkened corridor. It wouldn't be a wedding reception without that, Arald thought.
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