In Carillon,
There could be seen a restive mob crying out loud gesticulating with lots of anger, hatred, and resentment. About fifty people in the city square holding sticks and other brute weapons dressed in an unfashionable manner.
"Snap his head off," a woman cried out holding her pans and hitting it with much strength, standing out of the crowd by her unique features. "He is worthy of death. Children these days are wonderful, how can a man born of a woman seat in his house and work while we work for his lazy self, a foreigner for that matter."
The angry crowd continued to cry and soon a man with a very powerful aura and muscular physique came with a chopper in his right hand, standing on the elevated platform, looking down at the mindless crowd from below his brown leather trousers; staring at them with a blank expression through the great scar that ran from his left eyebrow and stopped under his right ear. Like a human rock, he stood behind the captive that had already been manhandled by the crowd.
A long man soon climbed the podium, obviously a noble, as seen from his elegant robe that signifies his status, the King's Royal advisor. Silence washed the crowd as they noticed him.
"A spokesman, that's what I need." Duke Luke said as he looked at the crowd, sparing a glance at the chopper man.
They whispered among themselves but it didn't take long for them to find their spokesman, the woman who had the pans was their spokesman and she explained the cause of the riot as she stepped forward.
He listened keenly as she recounted the event. And took a long pause after her story.
"Oh my dear Carillonists, I feel your pain and agony and want for such power that foreigners have" He said with such anger that made his fingers tremble. "Which would help and surely and assuredly, I will and must tell the King about your plight. But I must not forget, please what is my damsel's name?" He said addressing to the lady with the pans- their spokesman.
"Oh I, great Duke," She said as she looked at the bounded captive with satisfaction which portrayed the darkest hatred he had ever seen "My name is Madame Bloom and work in his father's farm, and Chloe's bakery in order to make a living and she too has such a lazy daughter. One thing I wander is how they get married but the happy news is that they marry among themselves."
"Oh! I see" He said as he scratched his brow with such poise as he looked back at the captive at intervals "So they interact between themselves but recruit you guys as workers."
"Exactly," She nodded in accordance. "You get what I am trying to say."
"There is no equity, I must see the King, he must hear about this." With that he climbed down the podium and entered the magnificent carriage, followed by the chopper man that dragged the bound captive.
The ride to the castle was silent, but the Duke could not help but repeatedly glance at the captive who hung his head down as his hair clung to his face, making him wonder what he looked like; as he was obviously avoiding the predatory gaze of the chopper man.
…
In a large hall, its tall walls lined with bronze metal and other ornaments, hung the glories of won battles during the reign of the kingdom. One stood apart from the rest, a large wooden table lined with silver with little gold trinkets, was the miniature of Carillon.
What is more beautiful or more to be proud of than been a citizen of a great kingdom with a history of glory, ready to go to battle with any nation that antagonizes their natives.
The King stood silently as he examined the board, fiddling with the golden trinkets in a deep thought as the silence sipped into his mind. But it was short lived.
The Duke makes his way in and gives a small bow, "Your highness, this matter has surpassed my courtesy. The matter is exacerbating, the people want the foreigners packing."
"What!" The King said calmly with wide open eyes but his body language didn't match his voice as he was obviously shaken. "But that's impossible, that's self-brought economy suicide."
"Unfortunately, your Highness, it is more serious that you can even dream off."
The door opened again to reveal the chopper man and the manhandled captive in chains.
"What is this?" the King asked more confused with a hint of disgust in his voice as he scrunched his face having no intention to mask his remark.
"Their captive," The Duke said as he lowered his head to conceal his shame. "They were so angry that I had to succumb."
As he was still contemplating on the matter, his news caster-Lorry- came in with letters-lots of them, overflowing from the box he used to carry them.
"Your Highness, I need your attention for a moment." He said as he half bowed holding unto the box carefully so that the scrolls won't fall out but he seemed not to be hearing him. "Greetings your Highness, here are the letters from Bentonville, Regent town and many others." Lorry said as he glanced at the Duke and the odd individuals.
"What are they all about?" The King asked as he snapped back.
"Sorry, your Highness, they just arrived this morning and I had much work getting the transcript of the previous letters." Lorry said as he looked at the other occupants of the room, again.
"Ok," The King said as he scratched his brow uneasily. "Is there anyone then that can be of use?"
"Yes, King. Bury is always available."
"Thanks drop the letters on the table" The King ordered as he watched Lorry's actions.
"You look perplexed."
"Yeah, Lorry," He said as he sunk into his chair. "Aren't you updated? Or you didn't know what happened this morning?"
"Well," Lorry answered as he shook his head slightly. "I heard."
Now the King was wearing his spectacles and had a letter in his hands.
"From Thames," With this he shifted his gaze off the letter and looked at Lorry who had an invisible drop of sweat running down his forehead. He had fired one of the previous owners of his the same position for the same reason.
"Forgive me your Highness. That letter was for Dora."
"I know, she told me about him. But I know him to be, his attitude, very sly and tricky. Go give her, she will feel offended if I break the seal." He ordered as he put it into its case.
"May I…!" The captive grunted as he tried to get to his feet but his legs were giving way as the chains pulled him down. His lips cut and where his right eye was supposed to be, was a red swollen tissue with a healing wound that was breathing. And it didn't help that he smelled foul, his lips quivered he wanted to say something, but he lacked the strength and all his mind could come up with was nothing as he stared at the King with blank eyes.
"Go clean him up." The King ordered as he turned away as he covered his mouth.