To the Victor, the Spoils

The knight could smell the heady jasmine that grew along the river, and pushed on toward the village nestled behind this last hill. He collapsed. A ladybug clicked past his ear and landed in the road afore him.

He awoke in a foul-smelling, darkened room, slick with sweat and groaning in spite of himself. A nurse came in then and held him abed as he tried to rise. She took his pulse. Then clicking her tongue, she pulled her fingers away, walked over, and threw open the window. A savage storm raged outside.

“No,” the knight said. “Impossible. I triumphed.”


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