Eadric mind was spinning... Was Osberht's entire speech really just a play?
"You look like a lost puppy." Ulf grunted, grabbing Eadric by the collar of his tunic.
Before Eadric could protest, he was hoisted into the air.
"Hey! Put me down...!" Eadric yelped, flailing his one good leg.
Ulf tossed him into a large cart filled to the brim with scratchy, dry hay.
"Keep quiet~" Ivar whispered, leaning heavily on his crutch as he hobbled to the front of the cart. "If the guards hear you, they'll make you count coal for the rest of your miserable life."
Eadric shuddered at the thought. He buried himself deep into the hay. He held his breath as the cart suddenly jerked forward, pulled by two draft horses.
The night sky was dark, but the great city was illuminated by the orange glow of the iron foundries in the distance.
Those infernal machines... They represented everything that had stolen his kingdom.
