"Where is it?" the boy said once more. The noble looked at the boy with fear and hate, making the boy grin wider, "So tell me." He pushed the sword deeper. And a scream echoed in the forest once again.
"It's in my pocket." answered the noble while grinding his teeth against one another. The boy began to rummage through the pockets until he found the letter and opened it. Not knowing that this 'boyish soldier' could read, the noble started to smirk.
As the boy unfolded the paper and started to read, he was shocked at the contents, but it did not show on his face, for he was too appalled for his expression to change.
The letter reads: My dear lord Dyre, I have delivered the girls you had given me to the collector in umeå, the man said that he would bring the documents of his majesty as to our agreed payment, but it would take a while for them to be delivered.
The Russians have been very impatient with getting hold of the documents, and they have promised good compensation, but I don't understand why they would pay so much for the crown's tax registry.
The boy was shocked not because of the trafficking of children cause he did not know that such things even existed and simply ignored that part, but the latter half of the letter came like a wrecking ball to his mind.
To sell the crown's documents to the Russians was high treason! Which made his blood boil. The boy may hate God more than anything, but the king was not God. No, he was their savior and protector in the boy's mind.
His father had drilled the idea of divine monarchy into the boy's mind from the moment he could form words. His father always rambled on about how the King was divine and chosen to guide their people in good and bad.
So when his eyes went from the letter to the bleeding noble, he seethed with fury for this man's transgressions against their king. His hand began to tremble, and his eyes became stone as he stared at the man and said.
"Where can I find this person who has the document!" His voice became louder and more unhinged for every word he uttered, and the boy's voice also continued to get ever deeper.
The noble, who had a somewhat smug expression, simply crumbled when he heard his words. He tried his best to rack his mind to find an answer which could deceive the 'boyish soldier.' But that was for naught, for the boy had had enough of his bullshit and stabbed the man in the shoulder and began to churn and twist while he stomped a foot on the man's stomach.
"Tell me!!!!!" the boy screamed while the noble screamed something incoherent. Which made the boy pull out the sword, set his foot on the ground, and glare at the noble.
The noble started to shiver in fear and pain as he tried to talk, but his mouth opened and closed with no words coming out. That angered the boy who wanted answers, not silence, so he squatted down and began to punch the nobles face repeatedly till the noble tried to talk. Still, the boy continued until the man's face was utterly disfigured and unrecognizable.
So he stood up while shaking both his hands to ease the pain of punching someone's face till it became a pulp. "So, will you tell me now?" Asked the boy in a calm voice, the noble began to shiver at the words and started to speak. "I-it's... t-the… b-baron… T-Trot...z-zig...A-Alexander."
Was what the noble stammered out somewhat incorrectly as his mouth was swollen and was missing some teeth. But the boy nodded and said, "Alexander Trotzig?" while staring at the noble, which gave him a nod in conformation. The boy then began to smile while looking at the man.
'I think his shoes are far more comfortable than mine and warmer...Should I take them? I wonder what else he got. Should I help him end the pain? I think I should. How noble of me to help a person in need. I can take his things as a form of gratitude.' When he had concluded, he aimed the sword at the man's throat at slit it open, watching him convulse and die.
When the man had stopped moving, he began to strip the man of his boots and admire them, as they were very tall and far more useful than his father's old shoes. He reluctantly parted with the shoes, and the new boots nearly reached his kneecaps, but they were extremely sturdy and felt like heaven compared to his father's shoes, which made him frown a little.
'Why do these traitors get such comfortable boots while the loyal people get scraps to wear.' the boy thought to himself while tightening the boots with a leather strap attached to the heels, bottom, and top of the boot, making it fit without any problems, the boots are still too big for him. Hence, he reused the cloth he stuffed in the previous shoes.
While rummaging through the body of the dead noble, he found a holster for the pistol laying not too far away and the ammunition for it, and he promptly placed the holster on his belt and holstered the pistol after cleaning the mud from it.
He also found a pouch of coins which made him wealthier than any farmer who tended their fields. A sword was also found on him, but it was no better than the one he already had, just fancier, so he decided to toss it into the forest out of spite.
When he decided he had nothing more to take as everything else was drenched in blood, he turned to find the horse was still here, slowly moving around the trail back and forth, not knowing what to do nor what happened, which gave the boy an idea.