"Why aren't you talking?" Not receiving the praise he was due, Belem sensed something was wrong and looked at Eric.
Eric had a strange expression on his face.
"It's nothing," Eric said, waving his hand dismissively.
"Nothing? Then why are you all so quiet? We're all Franks. We all speak French, don't we? Though Norman French might be a little different from the French in Toulouse."
"It's nothing. I just thought of something pleasant," Eric said, clearing his throat with a couple of coughs.
"Something pleasant? We've been on the road for four days, and this godforsaken city is like a corpse, filled with nothing but crazed lowlifes. Trampling them lets me blow off some steam, but that's about it.
Only plunder brings a Knight joy. When we wage war, we must first ensure it is profitable for our vassals. But the people here seem to be starving."
