(For background see latest post on Tradgardland Blog entitled Midsommer Murder..)Karl Frederick paces amidst the box and yew...
" And what of my son? You tell me that his compatriots are in chains awaiting questioning but how is he? Was the boar found?Good!
"Your Grace your son lies gravely ill in Tradgardstadt in the Palace,the Physcians advise you to make all haste there now. Your carraige awaits as does the Duchess. Come now ,your Grace there is little time ..............
2 comments:
A slightly less perfectly groomed Burgraf Waffenschmidt makes his way into the gardens, waiting for the Duke's attention patiently. When recognized, he approaches with a quick bow, "Your Grace, I heard from some of the servants of your son's injury....is there any way we may be of assistance? I have dispatched a messenger to Hesse-Engelburg, and I am sure the thoughts and prayers of many will be with you in this time."
Sir
You are kindness itself. I must be away by coach this instant . I will indeed keep you informed. Good Day to you Sir!
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