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    Summary

    (A more indepth telling of the trial from my previous work "pray for me")

    Had honor been killed by greed? Had there even been honor to begin with?

    A small part of him answered with the smell of rot, dirty bodies, shit, and blood. The mark of flea bottom on his soul. The mark of poverty. Any one of these lords or so called noble knights could stand up and fight or even just say something. Yet here they all sat, it wouldn't put a copper in their pocket to be good, thus, it was of no importance to them.

    They made him sick.

    The whole fucking lot of them. These were people that controlled vast swaths of land that were home to so many. Did they laugh at the plight of the small folks that depended on them or was it only him and his cause that was laughable?

    The questions clawed at the inside of his skull, leaving tracts like a wagon on soft dirt.

    ‘Has the realm truly fallen this far?’

    Language:
    English
    Words:
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    Chapters:
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