The sun was past noon, as three horses rode forth. One of them took the lead followed by the other two.
However, unlike previously one of the riders was missing.
The rider, Eugene was left behind, his body would be a drag to bring along.
As the group had paid respects to Eugene, Jeffrey looted a fancy silver knife from him. Well, Jeffrey took it as his own way of respecting Eugene. This was done quickly without anyone noticing. And they resumed their travel.
As they travelled they soon reached a town close to the fort city. It was by comparison, much larger than the little village that Jeffrey lived next to.
As the sun fell, the town chief personally welcomed the scouts including Jeffrey and Jim.
"Scout Karl, come to my residence I will get people to treat your wounds immediately!" the chief had already become acquainted with Karl when he arrived here before and came to know the situation at hand. The chief was called by the name of Mave Di.
Yes, this chief had a last name.
As the quadrio were led into the residence, the chief felt that something was off.
There are still four people, but I don't seem to remember this black guy among them.
The chief was suspicious.
…
Each of the group members was provided with their own rooms and had the town herbalists tend to their wounds. Well except Jeffrey, he wasn't wounded and didn't want any company. He didn't like being in a place with so many people.
There were a lot more people here than on market days in the old village.
The room he was placed in was rather rudimentary around ten by fifteen feet, with a bed and desk being the only items of furniture in the room. The flooring was made of wood and a thatch roofing.
Sitting on the ground, Jeffrey put the little white chick on the ground. It moved around more now and started to jump as well. Ignoring that, Jeffrey checked over his rucksack that he brought along.
It contained his five treasured farming tools. The scythe, sickle, shovel, mattock, and hammer. Not all of them fit in the rucksack so the longer tools just hung on the outside of the rucksack. Inside were a couple of varieties of handmade herbal solutions, narcotic shroom concoctions, and other basic survival equipment like rope or bandages. It also had some dried vegetables and leftover Cockerel.
Looking over his items he packed them back into his rucksack, just as one of the chief's sons called him for dinner.
Bringing Jeffrey to a dining hall in the chiefs home, he found that everyone else was already seated including the chief himself. The layout of the table was rectangular, with the chief sitting at the head of the table. There was already food set out on the table, with Karl and the other scout sat to the left of the chief, while Jim sat on the right. They all had various parts of their body wrapped in bandages and herbal ointment pasted on them. It was quite uncomfortable and itchy.
Moving toward the table, Jeffrey was directed to the empty seat next to Jim.
…
As Jeffrey sat down, the chief felt more suspicious. Who would bring a whole gods damned rucksack, with random tools hanging on it to a dining table? Not mentioning the machete he had strapped around his left shin, he should be questioning why this guy was wearing a gods damned bandana to eat.
Leaning over the table, he whispered to Karl, the scout leader.
"Is that guy one of your men? I could have sworn he looked a bit different before."
"Sigh, one of my men died on the way here. This guy is just a farmer we picked up," Karl answered.
The chief was baffled, "Are you sure this is really a farmer, scout Karl?" There was no way this guy was just a farmer.
"I hate to say it, but this guy is a farmer," seeing that Karl was stubborn about Jeffrey's identity, the chief tacitly chose to move onto another topic.
"Alright, I know all of you, are most certainly tired from your fight with the Barghests, so please, although I don't have much to offer, dine to your content," the chief was obviously trying to make ties with a relatively high ranking scout of the city. Saying this, he side eyed a certain black figure as he motioned for everyone to start eating.
The chief had his suspicions, these scouts had just fought a pack of Barghests and it was already miraculous that there was only one fatality, despite being badly outnumbered, showing the skills of this group. So how come this elite group suffered such injuries when this black clothed guy was unscathed?
This guy was definitely suspicious, and if he could reveal that to the scout leader, he might get quite the reward!