— Could have written a letter you'd come, —Raoul reproached good-naturedly, sitting on a creaky stool. — We'd have brought wine, not this swill that kills horses.
So human—when the world crumbles, think of hospitality. Maybe that's our essence in such trifles?
— Glad to see you, Raoul de Flamier. Only arrived with bad news.
Friend's face grew serious. An experienced warrior could read between lines.
— Someone among captains died? —he guessed with the doom of one expecting worst fears. — Young guys, just starting to live...
Sorrow of an older brother knowing: war devours the young first. Less experience, more bravery—a deadly mix.
— Worse. The king was killed. The kingdom may vanish like a dream at dawn. Ride fast to Taln.
Silence hung after explosion—sound not yet reached, destruction already visible. Raoul slowly set down the mug, fearing to shatter remnants of stable world.
— Bad news, —he said with philosophical acceptance of one who's seen much. — Just as the front stabilized, fate throws a challenge...
He swore shortly and slammed fist on table. Life's quite the ironist. Just as one thing settles, another crumbles. As if the universe follows a perverse balance principle.
— I still need to go to Huhra, then to Esten de Stalvart.