The Lordling

Lux scrutinised the high cobblestone structure that towered in front of him with a nonchalant air, one hand on his hip. “The Killing Wall”. What an apt name, he thought to himself, flinching as the stones were sprayed with blood from the traitor that had just been decapitated. His uncle stood, staring at the now headless body of the unfortunate man with a sort of vicious contempt, and gave the order for the body to be removed and buried – head and all. Unlike their close neighbours in Lowgarden and other cities around the country, Eanham's rulers did not revel in displaying the severed heads of their enemies around the city.

“How cheery” he commented sarcastically to the headsman as he fireman's-lifted the corpse onto his shoulder. The hooded man only grunted in reply and Lux looked in dismay as he walked away. His uncle's men just had no sense of humour.

Then again, neither did his uncle: A grim faced man in his mid-fifties with a neatly trimmed goatee and slicked back hair – he looked like he'd never smiled once in his life, let alone laughed. Nevertheless, for all his severity and lack of humour, he was a fair man, dealing out justice often at the expense of things close to him. Such as Lux's father. It made him sick to see his uncle's method of work, but there was nothing he could do about it besides leaving Eanham to deliver important messages to the capital. Lately, however, his uncle had been growing increasingly paranoid, old fool that he was, and would not hear of sending his nephew away from the fortress, making it increasingly difficult for him to avoid the man.

But that would soon come to an end. An unexpected summons had come for him from the capital and, strangely out of character, his uncle had decided to follow it up, leaving none other than Lux himself in command. He could scarce believe his luck. Finally, a chance to make some changes around this dismal place. He grinned and followed his uncle through the large oak doors into the keep.

The End

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