"Yes, that's the crest… So you are of clan Ujochi." The old man stepped back, his hand disappearing behind his back as Isan visibly crumbled, sweat beading where he stood.
"Then why in the mud?" Dorl's soft voice hardened, turning cold.
The boy's eyes darkened, and he remained silent.
"Ask Isan, right over here." Jorel rose to his full height, the mud dripping from his form.
"Isan! What did you do…?" Dorl's eyes closed for a moment before he shouted.
"Kumigara Dorl… I… I…" Isan stammered, still quivering like a cat caught in the rain.
Wait, Kumigara? So that means…
Tch, Isan!
Jorel scoffed internally.
"Do you know who he is? Or maybe why he's here?!" Dorl's voice grew thick with a heavy weight as he gestured wildly.
"So many times… So many times you've proved to me you're an absolute moron!" He widened his mouth, spittle flying.
Isan's usually large mouth seemed to shrink in that instant. Jorel tried to suppress a smile, but couldn't help letting it out.
Oh, who actually cares.
He thought.
"Hahahahaha!" Jorel burst into laughter, his hand still clenching his sword.
"Told you that you don't compare to me." He smirked, pointing his blade towards Isan.
"I'm deeply sorry, sir, for his incompetence." Dorl bowed low to Jorel.
"Hey! Isan, bow!" he hissed loudly, turning to face a bent, but still standing Isan, whose face remained stubbornly above Jorel's level.
"Yeah, Isan, bow," Jorel said, smiling as he pointed a finger downwards. But Isan murmured, refusing to fully comply.
"I said bow!" Jorel's voice turned icy, and the crowd watched in disbelief.
"Nnhmm…" Isan grunted, bowing reluctantly, his movements restricted and sluggish. Jorel stepped forward, pressing his palm against Isan's sweat-drenched back, forcing him lower.
Curse this boy!
Isan fumed silently, his teeth grinding.
"Now this is how they bow!" Jorel's grip tightened on Isan's sweat-soaked shirt.
Ahh… This is it… This is what you get, Isan, for going against someone like me! You're also not entirely useless.
You even make a perfect scapegoat for the others.
A smug look settled on Jorel's face.
"Such an insolent person you have here," The boy muttered, pinching Isan's back with more force.
"Yes, please forgive us for our wrongdoing, sir…?" Dorl looked up slightly, his body still bent.
"What should we address you as, sir?" He raised his jaw and hands marginally.
Now this is respect!
The boy smirked.
"It's Sir Jorel… Jorel Ujochi the Second." The faint sunlight embraced his back, and his cape billowed in the slight breeze.
"Jorel… Sir Jorel?!" Dorl fully straightened, his eyes wide.
"Are you related to another Jorel Ujochi by any chance?" He clasped his hands, looking directly into Jorel's eyes.
"Yeah… I am." Jorel dusted the mud from his shoulders and hands.
"He's my father." He shook his coat, trying to dislodge any residual mud.
*Sniff* *Sniff*
Jorel's nose twitched, picking up a foul odour----which was horse shit. His last meal threatened to escape his stomach and throat.
Dorl's face remained expectant, his hands still clasped together, rubbing them.
"Well then, just from the Ujochi clan alone, I'm sorry again for the lack of hospitality." He smiled, revealing teeth whiter than Isan's.
"I personally knew your father, my young lord." He placed a shriveled hand on his chest and bowed slightly.
Knew my father?
He must be delusional…
But… how and why on earth would someone like him personally know my father?
"To what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting?" Dorl held Jorel's hand tightly.
Jorel quickly pulled his hand free and stepped back.
This man… Father has some explaining to do when I get back.
But at least he knows common courtesy.
I'll humor him for a while.
"…I have things to discuss," Jorel cleared his throat.
"Well, things my father wants to discuss." He reached into the satchel at his waist. The clinking of coins escaped the bag as his hand finally retrieved what he sought, which was a heavily creased paper.
"Here." Jorel handed it to Dorl.
"What could it…" Dorl collected it with both hands carefully, neither too fast nor too slow.
Never knew you could collect something in such a way… especially paper
Jorel wondered.
Dorl unrolled it and squinted, reading, while Isan glared at Jorel, a gaze so thick and hot it could leave a mark. Jorel saw Isan's glare but chose to ignore it, focusing on Dorl.
I mean, he should just get glasses.
He is a Kumigara…
Dorl read, his mouth moving silently, his eyes scanning each line.
I'm already far too versed in the contents of that paper.
The journey on the road alone can become… such a boring one.
The offer is generous if he reads it well…
Jorel thought to himself.
Abruptly, Dorl's mouth stopped moving, his eyes frozen.
Is he done?
He lowered the paper slowly.
Yeah, he's done.
I can finally go back home… go back to Zara and away from Isan's eyeline.
He should just give up.
Jorel scrunched his nose at the thought.
"But… I don't quite understand…" Dorl stammered.
What? What's there not to understand? Jorel's right eyebrow raised. He then moved closer to Dorl to check the paper. His eyes and brows flattened as he looked at the document.
---The end of chapter 12---