Walking while wearing armour and carrying bags was tasking. The sun sucked out fluids from their bodies and chaffed their skins.
"Damn that man," Chadwick shouted.
Marigold wiped her forehead on the sleeves of her padded tunic. "Where is this town that he told off?" she complained.
Christopher was more passive. "He... he was just scared," his dry voice sounded like gravel.
"Whatever be the reason, he defied his employers. That requires a grave punishment," Hamilton was stern.
When the sun fell to their behinds, they saw blackness further ahead. Smoke was rising in small swirls and a pungent smell followed. "Could that be... Haran?" Christopher pointed.
The black dots became black squares and the pungent smell became rotten. Haran was not a town no more, calling it a village was also not right. The houses were burned and charred, smoke rose from the fields and the people were scarce.
