"Waiting left, waiting right, they still haven't come. Could they really be collecting evidence to convict Lord André?"
In a monastery by the docks below High Castle City, slugs crawled on the damp ground.
Yet, the two officers inside the room were unconcerned, still gathered around a round table, pouring wine into white porcelain cups treasured by the monastery.
Upon hearing his friend Bether's remark, an officer with bandages wrapped around his chest laughed in heavy Falan-accented Leia language: "Lord André holds military power, and the Border Knight Order is within arm's reach. Do they dare to make any moves?"
"These days, those country monk folks write letters to that person every day, don't they?" Bether picked up a piece of salty ham and tossed it into his mouth.
The injured officer didn't respond, merely looked up at the river, doing so every quarter of an hour.
Through the quatrefoil-shaped glass window, one could see the serene surface of the Silver Mantis River.
