The irritating noise did not stop inside the secret chamber.
Instead, it grew louder and louder, drawing closer with every passing moment.
The indistinct commotion gradually became recognizable screams, along with the cries of women and children.
Then came the clang of weapons colliding and the dull thuds of some heavy object slamming into the gate, again and again.
The mistress in his arms was the first to sense that something was wrong. The color drained from her face, and she curled up, trembling in his embrace as she asked in a quavering voice:
"My lord, what's that noise?"
Roger's passion was utterly crushed. All desire evaporated in an instant, leaving only a blazing fury.
He shoved his lover away and sprang up from the soft bed. His fat body trembled with anger as he hastily grabbed a nobleman's robe and threw it on. Barefoot, he stormed out of the secret chamber.
As he walked, he roared, "Who is it? Who?! Guards!!!"
"Who dares make such a racket in my castle? I'll have him hanged from the walls!"
He was going to punish the bastard who had interrupted him.
When Roger Legg pushed open the heavy wooden door leading to the hall, the scene before him froze him in place.
The hall was in disarray. Servants scattered like headless chickens, knocking over candlesticks and furniture.
Several guards were frantically trying to shut the main gate leading to the outer ward, but the crowd pouring in from outside made it impossible to close.
An old man with graying hair—the steward of his castle—came tumbling toward him. Tears and snot streamed down the old steward's face, and his voice shook uncontrollably.
"My lord! It's terrible!"
"There's... there's an... an army... an army has broken in!"
"So many of them!! And the lord