Vol.7, Ch.6, P.9
Wearily I walked to the main gates of Merkulov. My shoes sloshed. The rain dripped. Fraught reflection filled my head. But luckily that was all: the battle beyond the gates, it truly seemed, had ceased, with no foes to be found flooding in—a happy and expected sign of a Himmel victory.
Sighing, I soon saw appearing out of the pall the gates themselves. Their iron bars stood thrown open. And about them were forms and figures astir, whence then came hither a familiar face.
“Rolf!”
It was Lise, racing lightly through the rain. And arriving, her green eyes glanced up and down my person.
“You are hurt?” she asked, hastily taking and fingering the frays upon my garb.
“Here and there, yes. But I’ll be fine,” I assured her. “What about you?
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