Hadrian's journey and his groups continued. So far no significant problems apart from Rheannon having a mild cold after their camp on a windy night. Rheannon recovered quickly after resting comfortably at their next inn.
Rivers and rocky roads they managed to pass. No robbers stood in their way. They managed to avoid wild animals. Their journey was too quiet for such a long journey, which made Hadrian feel anxious.
"I don't like this calm," said Ichabod.
Hadrian nodded in agreement. His other knights thought so too.
They're halfway to Paiton now and they haven't encountered any problems. Either this was because their travel planning was too good or because God was being kind to them.
[It's not good thinking badly to God.]
Rheannon watched him from across the fire as she ate her mashed sweet potato. Desmond sat beside her, eating roasted sweet potatoes and looked at him.
Rheannon couldn't be talking to Desmond in whispers in his head either, could she? Hadrian thought.
[No, I only did it to you.]
When will she stop reading and whispering in my mind? Hadrian thought tiredly.
[I don't read your mind, my husband. Your thoughts are seeping all over the place. I've said it before.]
This must be stopped immediately. It's uncomfortable knowing that someone can read your mind. And now she was laughing.
"Be patient, Hadrian," he muttered to himself.
Following a bad feeling that night, Hadrian decided to keep watch near the carriage where Rheannon and Desmond slept. But almost all night vigil his ominous foreboding did not happen. All was safe and Rheannon was sleeping soundly without a sound of coughing.
"Maybe I'm just exhausted and have a lot on my mind," Hadrian told Ichabod worried for him.
"Shouldn't Your Grace rest in there as well?" Ichabod suggested.
"No, it will be awkward later," said Hadrian. "Because of you."
Ichabod chuckled at that. "Forgive my impudence, Your Grace. But believe me, I'm doing it for the good of you and your new family. It was Your Grace himself who said to look after Young Master Desmond."
"There it is, Sir Ichabod. I told you to look after Desmond, not to teach him no-nos," Hadrian said. Again Ichabod chuckled. "Don't laugh, it disturbs my wife and children."
"Ow, how sweet."
Hadrian only had time to feel embarrassed for a split second because suddenly an arrow shot towards him. The bow he managed to dodge and stuck in Rheannon and Desmond's carriage.
Exclamation, "Robber!" sound. The atmosphere became hectic for a moment.
"Sir Ichabod, you watch over here!" Hadrian ordered, then dashed off to the center of the showdown to lead the fight back.
Hadrian sent two other knights to help Ichabod. Forest robbers are usually indiscriminate with their prey. Whoever passed by, whether it was the king, would attack if they were seen carrying valuables. The brutal barbarians who survive the hard way amid the world's injustices that's what they are.
"Tough guys," Hadrian hissed as he slashed one of them to the ground.
These robbers were at fault if they decided to attack the nobles who kept the kingdom safe.
Not that Hadrian was the toughest and strongest person in all of Rexton. The proof is a sword almost slashed his neck.
The opponent in front of him this time was quite difficult. A left-handed man with a swing and a countermeasure to the opponents Hadrian was used to. It took a while to get used to his left-handed movements.
But wait–a sword?! Hadrian stared in astonishment at his over-trained opponent and his well-maintained sword.
Regarding the sword, it could be one of his loot. But his overall appearance and way of fighting were really neat and definite.
They are not robbers.
"Who are you?!" asked Hadrian as he succeeded in urging his opponent.
His opponent didn't answer and instead looked at him with determination. Those slightly pale green eyes that shone in the middle of the night…
The Pyrenees.
I can't let him die! Hadrian thought in determination.
Unexpectedly, his opponent was very formidable. Hadrian was pressed many times. He's been injured here and there because he's only been holding on without putting up a complete fight.
"It's useless to let me live, Hadrian. I won't tell you anything if you catch me," said his opponent. Again one fatal strike nearly hit Hadrian. "So just kill me all!"
Hadrian parried another of his attacks. "What do you want?!"
Even though it was only his eyes, Hadrian knew his opponent was smiling. "What do you think?"
The unexpected answer woke Hadrian. He attacks his opponent relentlessly. And as soon as he saw an opening, he gave the final blow.
His opponent immediately fell. Without waiting long, Hadrian immediately secured him.
The battle around him seemed to be over. Hadrian coordinated his men, brushed off whoever was killed, and gathered all who were still alive. Several knights were asked to check the surrounding area, perhaps there were still enemies hiding.
"What about Desmond and Rheannon?" Hadrian asked Ichabod. The carriage he was guarding looked bloody.
"Young Master Desmond is not awake at all," Ichabod reported. "Her Ladyship is fine."
Just then Rheannon came out. She looked around and ended up on Hadrian. "Who?" she asked then.
There was no point in lying to Rheannon. "The Pyrenees, looking for you," replied Hadrian. "I caught one person who seemed to know a lot."
"Our marriage… spread fast," Rheannon said in awe.
"This is no time for such admiration, Rheannon," Hadrian sighed. "Go back to rest. I promise you'll stay safe."
Rheannon gave a faint smile, then went back inside.
Ichabod suddenly elbowed him. "Don't be so stiff, Your Grace."
"Then, what should I do?" asked Hadrian.
"You could give Her Ladyship a nice consolation line or something. Don't talk like a bodyguard like that."
Unfortunately that's not the problem for them at the moment.
After a little search, the robbers were indeed the Pyrenees. There were two or three Pyrenees robbers among the bands of Rexton forest robbers. They usually rob to survive because their kingdom is too poor and produces nothing to survive. But it was clear that the Pyrenees robbers this time were no ordinary robbers. They were too tough and well-trained as if they were special forces.
"Looks like they're special forces," one of the knights confirmed. "They are too brave to die, some even kill themselves when they are in a hurry."
"We managed to save some of them," said Ichabod. "Including the one His Grace saved."
Hadrian looked at his opponent earlier. He came closer and pulled his hair back so he could see his face more clearly. With one move, Hadrian removed the cover of his opponent's face. A face too dignified and clean for an ordinary robber.
"Are you a knight, squad leader, or one of Pyrs' ministers?" asked Hadrian. His hand brushed the face roughly for other features he might have missed. His fingers then found a gem earring on the left ear. Gold cat eyes. Too expensive for ordinary people to wear. "Which noble are you from?"
His opponent jerked his head, trying to get rid of Hadrian's hand. "You think I'd be happy to answer?" he hissed.
"Why go after Rheannon Whitley?" Hadrian continued.
"I thought her name was Rheannon Melchoir," he snorted mockingly.
"Where did you hear about my marriage with her?"
"A gust of wind can bring news from anywhere, right?"
Hadrian had guessed that this would not be easy. "Sir Ichabod," he called. Ichabod immediately understood what he meant. "It's not that I don't understand why you would rather die than fall into my hands."
Hadrian drew his knife, then approached another surviving Pyrenees robber Ichabod had brought before him. The robber's body was weak from battle wounds, but that wouldn't kill him. The robber still had a chance to live if treated.
Hadrian had no intention of treating him at all.
He pointed his knife at the eye of the robber who was currently his hostage. "I repeat from the beginning: who are you?"
His opponent gritted his teeth. "What are you trying to do?"
Without warning, Hadrian stabbed one of the hostages in the eye. The hostage screamed loudly as his blood dripped down. "Wrong answer," he said seriously. He instead aimed the knife at the still intact eye, making the hostage squirm to escape. "I ask again: who are you?"