Hadrius’ sigh of deflation is drowned out by the wails and shrieks of female slaves as they are cut down all around him.
He moves in a manner of languid indifference, shifting from one side of his room to the next, picking his large silver sword and sheathing it against his waist.
The room contains all materials he had gathered during their annual raid, from exotic cities to temples and churches. Each item of decor must have cost an insurmountable amount, yet it was all to be burned.
He would return with nothing to the kingdom for no item held sentimental value.
Such as the slaves.
Beyond the walls he hears the dogged earnest steps of a woman trying to escape the vicious wolves. Her scream is cut off by the sudden lunge of one animal, canines sinking into her neck, ripping out her tra
