All eyes shifted as the limping figure swayed his way into the circle of light, one hand clinging to the far edge of the table to keep himself upright.
The laughter that had moments ago gutted the Azanian lord now turned upon him.
"Get your ass on a chair, you're drunk!" one of the captains jeered, slamming his horn on the table.
Cain had indeed been drinking, he did so often.
Not to revel, as did not have much to find glee from, but instead to dull the always present ache in his leg and scrape together the courage for what he was to do.
Another captain, recognizing him through the haze of firelight and wine, barked toward Blake
"Oi, Hard-Gut! Get your brother home before he pisses himself. Looks like he's had enough of all.I believe he had his own little adventure by now."
Blake's jaw tightened at the taunt.
He would have agreed to the man if that were not his brother , the sight of him in this company, limping, stumbling, jeered at, was intolerable.
