Chapter 207: Chapter Two Hundred And Six
Damon turned back to look at Kade.
Kade was waiting for further instructions about the investigation.
Damon spoke. His deep voice was flat and commanding.
"Keep investigating," Damon ordered strictly.
Kade bowed his head deeply. "Yes, My Lord. I will double the search efforts."
With that, Kade turned around. His leather boots crunched in the dirt as he walked quickly out of the training ring, leaving the General alone to resume his investigation.
Damon went to sit down. He did not watch Kade leave.
The young woman who had just entered the ring, the newly hired camp medic, stood a few feet away. She was holding her basket tightly. She looked very nervous to be standing so close to the famous Tyrant General.
She slowly lowered her basket. She dropped it gently onto the dusty floor of the arena.
Thump.
She stepped closer to Damon. She reached into the pockets of her white apron. She brought out a small, clean piece of white cloth and a small glass bottle filled with clear, strong-smelling alcohol.
"Please excuse me, General," the young woman whispered politely, keeping her eyes respectfully lowered.
Damon did not answer. He did not even look at her. He simply stood perfectly still, allowing her to do her job.
The young woman carefully poured a little bit of the clear alcohol onto the white cloth. She raised her hand and gently pressed the wet cloth directly against the fresh, bleeding cut on Damon’s left shoulder.
The alcohol was strong. It was meant to clean out the dirt and prevent serious infections. When it touched the open wound, it burned with a very sharp, intense, stinging pain.
But Damon did not flinch.
He did not pull his shoulder away. He did not hiss. He did not even blink his eyes. He just sat there on the wooden bench, staring blankly at the brown sand near his boots. He was feeling nothing.
The sharp pain of the cut was meaningless to him. It was nothing compared to the massive, crushing pain inside his chest. His heart felt like it was being squeezed by an iron fist.
His mind was consumed by Camilla.
The young woman finished cleaning the blood. She quickly applied a layer of thick, healing green ointment over the cut. Then, she wrapped a clean bandage securely around his broad shoulder, tying it in a neat knot.
She took a step backward and picked up her basket from the sand.
"The wound is clean and wrapped, General," the young woman said softly, bowing her head. "Please try not to stretch the muscle too much today."
Damon gave a slow silent nod.
The young woman did not wait for a verbal thanks. She knew the General was in a dark mood. She curtsied quickly, turned around, and hurried out of the training ring, disappearing back toward the medical tents.
Damon remained seated on the wooden bench. He leaned his elbows on his knees, staring at the ground.
Just a few minutes later, heavy footsteps approached the edge of the training ring.
A standard camp soldier jogged up to the wooden fence. The soldier stopped and quickly went down on one knee in the dirt, bowing his head respectfully to his commander.
"General," the soldier called out loudly, his voice echoing in the quiet arena.
Damon did not raise his head. He kept his eyes fixed on the sand.
"Speak," Damon replied. His voice was tired and completely flat.
The soldier swallowed hard. "General, Lady Isabel is here at the main gates to see you."
Damon’s eyebrows immediately pulled together in a deep frown. A sharp wave of annoyance flashed across his face.
"Lady Isabel said it is extremely important, My Lord," the soldier added quickly, delivering the exact message he was given. "She said she possesses urgent information that you must hear immediately."
Damon finally raised his head. He looked at the kneeling soldier.
He did not care about her important information. He found her presence incredibly irritating, especially when his mind was already in turmoil.
Damon stood up slowly from the bench.
He walked over to the edge of the ring where he had left his clothes. He picked up his linen shirt.
He pulled the shirt over his broad shoulders and his freshly bandaged arm. He began to button the front of the shirt, moving his fingers slowly and deliberately.
He spoke as he buttoned the white fabric. His deep voice was cold, holding absolutely no warmth or patience.
"See her out," Damon commanded simply.
The soldier nodded his head firmly. "At once," he said, preparing to stand up and carry out the order.
But as the soldier began to rise from the dirt, Damon’s cold words stopped him off his track.
Damon finished the last button on his shirt. He looked directly at the soldier, his eyes looking exactly like freezing ice.
"And," Damon added, his voice dropping into a low, deadly, strict warning. "Do not let her come into the camp ever again. She is permanently banned from these grounds."
The soldier’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but he knew better than to question the General.
The soldier immediately put his right fist firmly over his heart, showing his absolute military obedience. He bowed very deeply.
"As you wish, General," the soldier replied respectfully.
The soldier quickly stood up, turned around, and jogged rapidly back toward the massive wooden gates of the camp to deliver the harsh rejection.
Damon watched him leave for a brief second. Then, he turned his back and walked toward the weapon racks, completely dismissing Isabel Ryde from his mind.
Outside the gates of the military camp, the bright morning sun was very hot. Thick clouds of brown dust floated in the dry air.
A very beautiful decorated carriage was parked on the side of the dirt road. The Ryde family crest was painted clearly in shiny gold on the carriage door.
Standing right beside the carriage was Isabel Ryde.
She was wearing a bright yellow silk dress covered in delicate white lace. She held a beautiful folding fan in her hand, trying to block the hot sun from her perfectly powdered face.
Despite the terrible heat and the dirty dust of the military camp, Isabel was grinning.
It was a wide cruel smile. Her blue eyes were sparkling with triumph and malicious excitement.
She had rushed here directly from her home. She could not wait another single second.
"I finally have her," Isabel thought to herself, her heart beating fast with dark joy. "I finally caught Lady Camilla."
