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Date Posted: Mon, March 21 2022, 5:32:15
Author: LadyDuBois
Subject: QOTD for Monday March 21st. the following quote is taken from Lord John And The Hand Of Devils written by Diana Gabaldon. All Rights Reserved

“You know him?” Stephan was watching him intently, his own face stern and clean as those of the stone memorials about them.


“Yes.” Grey knelt by the body. “I spoke to him only a few hours ago.”


He put the backs of his fingers delicately against the dead man’s throat—the slack flesh was clammy, slick with rain, but still warm. Unpleasantly warm. He glanced down, and saw that Private Bodger’s breeches were opened, the stuff of his shirttail sticking out, rumpled over the man’s thighs.


“Does he still have his dick, or did the she-thing eat it?” said a low voice in German. A faint, shocked snigger ran through the men. Grey pressed his lips tight together and jerked up the soggy shirttail. Private Bodger was somewhat more than intact, he was glad to see. So were the diggers; there was an audible sigh of mass relief behind him.


Grey stood, conscious all at once of tiredness and hunger, and of the rain pattering on his back.


“Wrap him in a canvas; bring him …” Where? The dead man must be returned to his own regiment, but not tonight. “Bring him to the Schloss. Tom? Show them the way; ask the gardener to find you a suitable shed.”


“Yes, me lord.” Tom Byrd was nearly as pale as the dead man, and covered with mud, but once more in control of himself. “Will I take the horse, me lord? Or will you ride him?”


Grey had forgotten entirely about Karolus, and looked blankly about. Where had he gone?


One of the diggers had evidently caught the word “horse,” and understood it, for a murmur of “Das Pferd” rippled through the group, and the men began to look round, lifting the torches high and craning their necks.


One man gave an excited shout, pointing into the dark. A large white blur stood a little distance away.


“He’s on a grave! He’s standing still! He’s found it!”


This caused a stir of sudden excitement; everyone pressed forward together, and Grey feared lest the horse should take alarm and run again.


No such danger; Karolus was absorbed in nibbling at the soggy remnants of several wreaths, piled at the foot of an imposing tombstone. This stood guard over a small group of family graves—one very recent, as the wreaths and raw earth showed. As the torchlight fell upon the scene, Grey could easily read the name chiseled black into the stone.


BLOMBERG, it read.

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Replies:

[> i know that I have read this story at least once, but don't remember it very much. Thanks for the refresher, Lady DuBois. -- DianaH, Mon, March 21 2022, 10:12:18


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[> [> Me too and I love the interplay with Tom and John but these are the stories I can’t follow. My mind is too simple 🙄 -- Kathy in PA, Mon, March 21 2022, 10:43:03


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[> [> [> I miss Tom Byrd. He was always there for John. I agree that these stories are a bit hard to follow, but worth reading a few times. -- kgp, Mon, March 21 2022, 16:33:47


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