In his own way, he supposed he knew that from the start. He supposed that, like the Treeant King, he too would give in to those impulses and start a war.
…
…
"Which way?" Came the bluntly asked question, from grey eyes staring out beneath a straw hat. His impatience was evident, his daring was worse. None spoke to General Sultar like that. Yet this man did not seem a fool. "Which way?" He asked again.
"You seek King Pendragon?" He asked.
"I do."
"Then you be Dominus Patrick?"
"I am."
"Then you will find him that way," General Sultar said. "Against his wishes. He would not want you to join him in his grave."
"You know him not," Dominus said. "He will not lose."
He was gone before the General could reply, dashing across those sand dunes, his quickness of foot evidence of his strength, even as everything else about him was entirely unremarkable. "...If you believe that, stranger, then why do you run so quickly?" The General said with a hint of sadness.
