"Why?"
Marquis Garcia looked at the Viscount Dawson, who had been restrained by the furious officers of the Dark Cavalry, and asked solemnly.
Viscount Dawson smiled and spoke frankly, "I'm sorry, my Lord Marquis, I owe much to you and had no wish to betray you. But, in order for the dwarf clan to accomplish their longstanding ambition of building a nation, I must do this!"
"A dwarf nation?" A flicker of realization passed through Marquis Garcia's eyes. He then pointed to the pure white horse flag that had suddenly risen above the gorge and asked, "Is this the promise the St. Prowse family gave you?"
Viscount Dawson shook his head, "No. In fact, I didn't even know that the army ambushed in Shadow Gorge was from the Eastern Territories."
"Who induced you to do this?"
Viscount Dawson's smile contained a hint of mischief, "Why, my Lord Marquis, have you not once doubted Duke St. Hilde? After all, he is now my liege lord."
