The Mad Frank's Dreams: Post 14 Kan Lakan’s Dream

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The carriage stopped outside the building. From the outside, it appeared abandoned. It was the kind of place where people who were down on their luck might shelter for the night. Only it wasn’t, and the locals knew it.

Kan Lakan looked out impassively and wiped a dew of fruit juice and rice cracker crumbs from his lips. His fingers drummed as he waited until a man emerged from the shadows, ran over, and bowed, keeping his eyes downcast, as was appropriate for a ruffian like him.

To Lakan, the man was just another faceless piece, so it made little difference. All he wanted was the man’s report. “Well?” he asked.

“Soldiers came last night and broke in, milord,” came a rough, apologetic reply.

“The woman? Was she all right?”

The man quaked at Lakan’s tone and burning eyes.

“They carried her out. Alive, I think.”

The lord relaxed. He should have been the one to rescue his daughter. She would surely have looked more favorably on him if he had.

Upon hearing that his daughter was safe, the fire in his eyes died, replaced by a look of contemplation. Unforeseen events were always part of a game. He was confident that he would win in the long run. Yes, he thought. His birthday was coming up, which would provide an opening.

“The Frank escape, milord. Your orders?”

Lakan made no reply. The ruffian has ceased to exist in his world.

As for The Mad Frank, he was a piece #relegated to the backboard until he was useful again. But as I said, that is a story for another day.

[FINIS]

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