Hugh Burrows

lords and shining knights, and a mighty host of foot. He marches up your road of roses toward the very same great city we were speaking of.” “He takes his bride?” The other shrugged. “He did not tell me why. Perhaps he is loath to part with the warm burrow between her thighs, even for a night. Or perhaps he is that certain of his victory.” “The king must be told.” “I have attended to it, good ser. Though His Grace frowns so whenever he does see me that I tremble to come before him. Do…