Arriving at King Peter’s castle as the sun was going down, Don found more people crowding the barracks building than ever before. Jason hurried from the cafeteria and caught him before he got to the stairs.
“Baron, I couldn’t get you a private dining room here on short notice. What I did do is talk to one of the King’s squires and call in a favor. I have set up private, catered dining, in a room over the third warehouse down from where you put the fuel for King Peter. Most of the others are already there, with Kim acting as hostess. One of my slaves is standing outside that building to direct you to the right room.”
A harsh, heavily accented voice interrupted them from the side, “Out of my way, nigger!”
Don’s blood boiled. He turned and swung at the offending voice.
The large beefy man blocked the punch easily and drew his fist back, a massive grin on his face.
What the large man didn’t block was Doug putting a pistol to his head from his left.
Eyes wide, he froze, his punch not started.
Don demanded, “Where is your baron?”
A thick German accent came from inside the bunk room area. “Here. I am Baron Black Heinrich.”
Only then did Don take in that the man Doug held at gunpoint, as well as the dark-haired speaker and several more men, now with their guns drawn, were wearing red and black Nazi armbands.
“I am Baron Red Don. If I see this man again, I will order my people to hunt yours down. You either kill him, or you make damn sure you don’t let him near me or mine ever again.”
Barron Hendrich came out of the cafeteria and sneered, “Empty threat. King Peter has forbidden us attacking each other.”
“He also forbids commoners disrespecting nobles. You didn’t stop that from happening. Do you really think he is going to protect you after you let one of your men do that?”