The darkness was deepest just before dawn, when people were at their sleepiest.
Even the most diligent, responsible night watchmen were yawning nonstop at this hour.
Yet Lord Byrne's three sons emerged from the cabin swathed in bandages, their eyes wide as they warily watched one another-their eyes were bloodshot from staying up all night, and their expressions brimmed with a strange excitement.
They were about to do something big!
They were going to attack Sisk Harbor!
Attacking and plundering were not their objective, of course, merely incidental. What they really wanted was to become "heroes"!
Yes, they had colluded with pirates.
But they had colluded with those pirates in order to wipe them all out!
They had endured humiliation for the greater good.
They deserved praise.
As long as they pulled this off, all three of them could receive the title of "knight."
As for who would inherit their father's title?
They could discuss that when the time came.
In any case, they absolutely could not let a commoner reap the benefits after the three of them fought one another again.
At the thought of that afternoon's match, all three almost involuntarily touched their wounds.
The eldest Byrne son had suffered a twenty-centimeter gash in his left arm, inflicted by the second son. Had he not dodged in time, he would have lost the arm.
Likewise, the second Byrne son had taken a sword thrust to his lower abdomen, which had nearly pierced straight through him.
As for the youngest Byrne son, their father's favorite?
Not only had the eldest nearly severed his right forearm, but the second had also slashed his chest, almost spilling his guts.
The fight between the three Byrne sons had also been the most spectacular match in the Zone E arena that afternoon.
It