The Savage

Part 2: Chapter Eighteen: Davyth

The morning march found Davyth short tempered. Moving an army was a slow business. It was only because of the Avainn that they had spent weeks traveling and not months. Still rising early, sleeping in a tent was hardly how Davyth preferred to spend his time. Gryffyth, Nye kept their distance, riding a few paces behind. Only Perry, on his incorrigible hackney, braved his Prince's rage.

"Will he ride out to greet you?" Perry asked.

"We shall see." Davyth replied.

"It would be the most proper." Perry continued cautiously.

"It would be. But I suspect he thinks himself very important."

"He should count himself among the lucky that you are even here!" Perry exclaimed.

Davyth chuckled, "Ride ahead to the scout and find out how close we are. If we are less than a mile out give the order for the trumpets."

Dutifully, Perry nudged and kissed at his mount. The brown hackney gave a rebellious kick of its back legs before springing into a reluctant trot.

"You shouldn't give him authority to give orders, he's only a squire. I should be the one entrusted with such a task." Gryffyth said, closing the gap between himself and Davyth.

"Shut the fuck up." Davyth snapped. "I will give authority to whomever I please. You are on far too thin of ice to be so comfortable with me."

"Your grace?" gasp Gryffyth.

"Fuck your shock. You and, Nye this goes for you too, have been nothing but a pair of fat, overly fed old men. At this point I will be replacing you both when I am King. Unless you can prove me wrong."

Sweat beaded up across Gryffyth's leathery forehead as his face reddened. Davyth laughed at the older man's rage, "Cheer up. If I do replace you I'll provide your daughter's dowry and marry her to Perry."

"My daughter is too good for the likes of a squire!" Gryffyth retorted.

"That ugly cow of yours should be so lucky." Davyth jeered.

"Protect the Prince!" Nye suddenly shouted from behind them.

The nearest corps moved with speed and precision circling Davyth and the councilmen. Davyth swung around to face back south. From down the road came a rider. Approaching at breakneck speed, mud splattered in the wake. Davyth squinted, he knew that form. The rider slowed, sliding to a stop just beyond the tips of the soldier's spears. Naked as the day he was born and his ears out for all to see, was Llewellyn.

He smiled his characteristic cheeky grin at Davyth. "Brother." Llewellyn said.

"Nye, take the corps and rejoin the rest. Gryffyth, give me your cloak and go with him." Davyth ordered, his eyes locked on Llewellyn.

Nye barked a few commands and the soldiers reformed and marched on head, Gryffyth following behind.

"Your adventure is going well, I see." Davyth said.

Llewellyn smirked. "It could be better."

"Uh huh." Davyth rolled his eyes. "Made yourself at home with the Duthaichies? Are they here now? Your Princess? Is she here?"

"I'm afraid not." Llewellyn replied seriously.

"You have the worst fucking timing." Davyth hissed through his teeth, "I'm here to parley and hopefully also remind this Khaan of Daear's might and you look like that. Here." Davyth thrust the cloak at his brother, "When we arrive find something of mine to where. And cover your ears."