Diego bowed to the king and then quickly began telling the old king what he knew about the massacre. what he knew about the massacre. He told him about the dying guard that he had talked to. He did his best to exaggerate the importance of the event, but it wasn't really necessary; the event was horrifying enough without Diego's description. 

[i]Oh boy![/i] thought Diego [i]I'll have a stack of gold in no time![/i] 

Bakka itched his ear feverishly as he unsheathed his knife. The two intruders were surprisingly powerful. But he knew that there must be someone leading them. He looked around an saw the ghost. Always a queen. Always. Bakka was his own queen. He was the hive. Bakka was a walking, breathing, living bee hive. The bees flew around, in and out of him. They were him. He was them. He needed no teeth. He didn't need to eat. They made the food for him, the drink for him, and he sheltered them. 

Bakka looked at the ghost and flung the knife with deadly precision...