#Chapter4
Proving myself
Talus' POV
Queen Tamara pushed open a wooden door, introducing us into a room. It was tiny and had an iron-framed bed at the corner. Soldiers rounded it and murmuring was everywhere. A man let out a loud yell.
/"Janos?/" The queen moved closer to the soldiers.
They made way for her divulging a blonde man in armor laying on the bed. An older man with long grey hair sat on a stool. He wore a grey robe and was treating the wound of the soldier.
/"Janos, what happened to you?/" Queen Tamara asked, gently touching his hand.
/"Those bastard Galians. Fuck!/" He winced as the old man next to him applied a liquid on his wound.
/"How bad is the wound, Fosus?/" She asked the grey-haired man.
He tsked. /"It'll take weeks to heal. He needs to rest./"
The slit on the soldier's arm was deep. Whoever did this was skilled. Blood oozed from it anytime he twitched.