“What’s your name?” Marc asked the stablehand.
After some hesitations the young man gulped and said, “Octave… my lord.”
“Can you take Limos to the stables?” Marc said with a smile. “Make sure he gets some hay and water.”
“Right away, my lord,” the stablehand said.
“Great…” Bertrand said.
The commotion was growing in the background, and Marc looked up just in time to see a rotund grey haired banshee headed their way. The Comtesse in a show of force had half-a-dozen ladies in tow.
Disclaimer: This excerpt from Man of War is currently in development. There may be typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth.
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