Chapter 18: CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: OY VEY
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𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯'𝘴 𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴, 𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘢𝘺-𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘩𝘦'𝘥 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺.
𝘛𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥.
𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘢. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘩𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵, 𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦.
𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘵 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘩. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩, 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴.
𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦.
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘨𝘶𝘭𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.
𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥.
𝘏𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘥𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘳. 𝘖𝘩, 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘳 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵.
"𝘉𝘰𝘺, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨?" 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘶𝘴𝘴𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴.
"𝘌𝘹𝘤𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘮𝘦?"
"𝘐 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦," 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴.
"𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭... 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦," 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯.
"𝘏𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘺?"
"𝘕𝘰 𝘮𝘢'𝘢𝘮, 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘦."
𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘺𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭, "𝘐'𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘰𝘰𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘴𝘦, 𝘐'𝘮 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘺. 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦? 𝘐𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯, 𝘐 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘴?" 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥.
"𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘮𝘦?" 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩.
"𝘈𝘴 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, 𝘐'𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘥," 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥, "𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵, 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦'𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥𝘶𝘭𝘦."
𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮.
𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘥. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧.
"𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺?"
"𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘎𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦 𝘮𝘢'𝘢𝘮."
The man shudders from the layer of snow cuddling him from atop. His head pounds loudly as he sits upright looking at the darkening skies.
The memories of his failed capture come flooding back as he grits his teeth.
How could he fail?
How could he disappoint her?
He knows her temper and knows she wouldn't understand nor forgive his mistake so easily.
His fist pounds the snowy ground beneath him.
He forgot one thing; what of his horse?
His whistles fill the forest but not a single answer, so he tries calling out for the horse. It may have run away in fright or because of the weather, but no matter the reason his dear horse is now gone.
That animal was a precious gift from his master.
The night can't possibly reach a new low. This by far ranks as one of the most regrettable days of his life.
But her judgment can mean death for him, he had failed once. What's to stop her from beheading him or torturing him?
His body receives shivers from the fear alone, the icy winds are just a finishing touch.
George stands as he hugs himself pleading for his horse's return once more.
Alas, his pleas aren't answered as he begins trudging back to the castle.