Wolfbreed
Chapter One
"Please?"
Manfried Hartmann did his best to ignore the voice that came from behind the heavy oak door. He stood at attention, on the opposite end of the corridor, shivering slightly. Even with his mail shirt and the padding underneath, he was still chilled by the damp, mildew-thick air.
But maybe chilled even more by the pathetic weakness of the woman's voice coming from the cell he was guarding.
It was hard not to see this guard duty as anything more than a punishment detail. Perhaps, in a more charitable moment, he could think of it as a form of mortification, his Teutonic masters seeing to it that his soul was purified through labor and obedience. Still, despite what the sergeant might say about "prisoners of a certain status," there was little about this that Manfried could see as particularly elevating. He certainly didn't feel any closer to God in this hole.
If he brought up the subject with one of the priests, or-Lord help him-one of the knights of the Order, Manfried knew from long and onerous experience that the answer he would get would involve prayer, penitence, and probably a long meditation on the ...
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