Kivamus shook his head. “Torhan didn’t reach where he is by being stupid. A man like him will never put all his eggs in one basket. Most likely he would have spread out his savings. He’d have hidden some gold at each of his two compounds—assuming there aren’t even more of them—and some at a bank, uh… moneylender in Kirnos. This way even if someone finds one of his stashes and steals it, he wouldn’t end up dirt poor. I’m confident that we will find at least some amount of gold in that compound where Joric was held. We can’t hit another compound at the same time, and his gold saved with the moneylenders is out of our hands, but that first compound? Yeah, we’ll turn it upside down to find every single copper he has stashed there.”
“I only hope you are right…” Duvas spoke under his breath.
“Don’t worry. There is a risk in anything we do or don’t do, but we have planned a lot for this. I know it is going to go well. It has to…”
Duvas looked at him for a moment before he nodded. “I’ll pray for that.” He stood up. “I have to go and check on some other things in the manor, so I’ll take my leave now.”
Hudan rose from his chair as well. “I’ll go and start looking for more recruits. I need to meet that target of 100 guards within a few days so we can start training everyone.”
“Go on then,” Kivamus said. “I also need to work on a blueprint.”
Once the majordomo and the captain had left, he opened the window, looking at the bright sunshine of the late-spring afternoon. If all went well, this counter raid would give a huge boost to the village, in more ways than one. Now all that was left was to prepare well for it.
***
~ Hyola ~
~ Somewhere to the north of Cinran ~
The bald guard squatted near the body of his comrade, then slowly shook his head. “He’s deader than dead, boss…”
The old knight nodded at the man as he kept strolling left to right with a frown. The four other guards—bastards, all of them!—glared at her while standing nearby, all of them looking ready to separate her head from her shoulders.
There was a group of scared slaves cowering on the right side at the farmhouse where Hyola had been captured, while the mothers tried to hide their children behind them, hoping the guards didn’t notice any of them. The owner of the farm, a retired knight to boot, was holding the crossbow he had taken from her as he walked, looking at it from all sides.
With night having already fallen a few hours ago, the light from the half-moon, along with the flickering light from a brazier burning somewhere, gave a ghastly look to the knight whenever he glanced at her. He couldn’t be more than 50 years old, but the scars on his hands and face told of a life lived with a sword in his hands. Curse him!
Hyola’s hands were tied up behind her, while the bastards had also taken nearly all her weapons, including her crossbow—the same crossbow which the knight was holding. The small dagger she hid in her boot was still with her, but she had no easy way to access it with her hands already tied.
Dammit!
Damn it all!
Damn her temper!
Handing over the crossbow—her crossbow—to another guard, the old knight finally stopped in front of her. “Well, well, well… What do we have here?”
She cursed her inability to keep her temper in check. That’s what had landed her in this predicament. It had all started so well too…
***
After Feroy and her had left Tesyb to lead the slaves from the encampment to the village, both of them had continued riding north. They had skirted around Cinran, and decided to go west. East was far too dangerous—especially if they went close to Tolasi Hills—and north would come later.
If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it’s taken without permission from the author. Report it.
They had killed a pair of wolves on the way, and prepared the pelts to sell, keeping the smoked meat for themselves for later use. The first farmhouse they encountered became their first indoor stop on the trip, after spending so many nights in the open since they had left Tiranat.
The farm owner had been more than happy to buy their pelts at the below-average price they were offering to get in his good graces, and had gladly allowed them to stay in the barn along with the other slaves. Looking at the tired, hopeless faces of those people, she had remembered the time when she used to be a slave too, and it made her proud at how far she had come. She had vowed to do her best to help them—even if it was done only indirectly, by telling them about Tiranat. She just hoped they found the courage and opportunity to escape in the future and come to her home village. Life was good, there. And she wasn’t even thinking about Calubo at the moment. Not at all.
Well… maybe a little…
After they had gotten some grub with the other slaves after sunset, the barn had been barred from the outside—likely to prevent the slaves from trying to escape in the night. It had scared her for a moment, but eventually it turned out to be a good opportunity. Feroy had asked about the stories of slaves living there, and once he was satisfied that there were no spies of the local guards hiding amongst them, he had regaled them with tales of a place where slaves could escape to and live as free men and women. A place where commoners were treated better than any other place in the kingdom. A place where the baron ensured that everyone got food and shelter, no matter what.
The kids had listened with wide eyes, while most of the older slaves hadn’t truly believed them, but it had surely sown some seeds of doubt in their minds. Only time would tell if they decided to flee to Tiranat in the future. After making them promise not to speak about it to anyone, Feroy had also given some of the losuvil powder to anyone who was sick or injured, saying that it was just a small example of how benevolent the lord of Tiranat was. The man who had bandaged a recent gash in his shoulder had been stunned to see the rapid effects, with the other slaves asking him again and again if he was really feeling no pain. The man had grinned, and had to confirm it many times before the others believed him.
The next morning she and Feroy left the farmhouse—the slaves smiling at them this time—and had reached another farm by dusk. The same story had repeated for the next few days—traveling during the days, then telling stories and healing the slaves with losuvil powder in the nights at whichever farmhouse they stayed. A family of slaves living at an outlying farm had nearly given up on their sick child, but Feroy had handed them a few doses of the powder, assuring them that the kid would have a much better chance now.
The ex-mercenary had even handed over a few coppers and some of their smoked meat to those slaves who looked like they were on the verge of starvation. She had no idea where he got the coin from, but that charity had made many of those slaves seem ready to swear their lives to him. Feroy had just told them to hold on until they got a chance to run away, and then to head south. The journey wouldn’t be easy, but if they made it, their life would change in such a drastic way that they couldn’t imagine it. She had no doubt a few slaves would already start reaching Tiranat by the time they returned themselves.
Feroy said that it wasn’t a good idea to linger too long in any place, since the disappearance of slaves could be linked to them and it would make the task more difficult for them in the future, so after a week, they started to move toward the northwest of Cinran.
They had spent the last two days spreading rumors at some farmhouses there, when this morning Feroy decided to turn east towards the Lokir River. He didn’t want to risk going too close to Krukzil for now. That bastard Zoricus ran a huge slave operation, with rumors saying nearly all the people in his village and surrounding farms to be slaves, which meant the baron could easily hear about someone spreading rumors about Tiranat if they went too close.
They continued moving east during the day, and just before dusk they had found this farmhouse after a long day of travel. Located between some forests in the west, and big farms in the east, this place was far more isolated than others. It had given her a bad feeling even before they had reached the farmhouse.
They didn’t have anything to trade this time—they hadn’t found any wild game on the way for the last two days, being so far from the southern forests—but Feroy’s silver tongue had still managed to grant them a night’s stay in the stables from the retired knight who owned the farm. Hyola had seen many slaves here—just like at most other farms—but for some reason there were mostly women kept as slaves here. There were some men, of course, but instead of being the usual equal ratio between the two genders, there were more than a dozen female slaves here—some of them living along with their kids—compared to just three male ones.
That had looked a little fishy to her, but she hadn’t given it much thought at the time. The stables they had been allotted were located right next to the barn where the slaves lived. Feroy’s plan was to wait for the guards to go to sleep, before they would enter the barn from a loose window on the outer side he had noticed, and then to mingle with the slaves and tell them about Tiranat. They couldn’t do so in the presence of any local guards, but for some reason the two men who had come for duty at sunset kept loitering near the barn.
After eating together with all the guards a few hours after sunset, the old knight had retired to a wooden building some distance away. Seeing the scared looks the slaves had given the knight, Hyola had wanted to go and talk to them immediately, but the former mercenary had told her that it wasn’t the right time. He had assured her that they would surely talk with the slaves before they left, but Hyola hadn’t wanted to wait. However, with the two guards lingering near the barn even after eating, she never got a chance to talk with the slaves.
After a while of watching them, Feroy had told her to go to sleep, and Hyola had eventually relented, laying down on a bale of hay in the stable and closed her eyes. But sleep just wouldn’t come.
Her mind had been drifting somewhere between dreamland and the real world for a while, when she heard some sounds of arguments and protest. She immediately woke up, and noticed that Feroy was nowhere to be found. Guessing he had gone to take a leak or something, she stood up, deciding that she’d better investigate what was happening. She exited the stables towards the barn, from where the sound had been coming from, and what she witnessed sent shivers down her spine.