"Who the hell is there!" After a while he heard a familiar voice
"Belgada, is that how you greet an old friend?" He shouted back
The gate opened with a clang and the mercenary saw a tall, well-built woman with long braids holding a lit lamp in her left hand.
"Red, you old bastard!" The woman was a head taller than him, hugged the mercenary tightly, almost crushing his ribs.
"You look like shit, you are so thin and haggard. What happened to your forehead? Did someone beat you?"
"It's nothing - Red waved his hand - but you haven't changed anything, maybe your curves are even rounder." He smiled mischievously
"You old seducer." Belgada wagged her finger, blushing slightly.
"Come in, eat something and wash yourself, you smell just like your horse."
"I thought you would never offer it to me." Red entered the inner courtyard. The inn buildings were arranged in a U shape, and the entrance was protected by a solid oak gate and a palisade. On the left side there was a stable with five horses and two loaded carts. In front of the entrance there was an inn and on the right side there were farm buildings and accommodation rooms.
"Your horse is limping, what's wrong with it?" Belgada noticed immediately.
"It lost a horseshoe, do you have a blacksmith here?"
"I have a clever helper, he knows his job. Netor!" She shouted towards the stable gate - Netor, come here!"
A disheveled young man emerged from the stable and quickly ran towards them.
"Take care of this horse, it has lost its shoe."
Netor grabbed the reins of his horse and walked back to the stables. Red, accompanied by Belgada, entered the room. He liked this place. There were hunting trophies and animal skins hanging on the walls. The room was clean and the walls were painted white, which enhanced the sense of order. Straight ahead was a bar, behind which stood a serious, slim, middle-aged man. There were seven people in the room who now looked at the people entering curiously.
"Sit down." Belgada showed him a place at a separate table and then brought him a bowl of steaming stew.
"Eat, then you will tell me everything." She ordered with a firm voice.
For a moment, the only sound was the scraping of the spoon against the bowl and the greedy swallowing of food.
"Delicious stew, as always," Red praised with his mouth full. Belgada smiled and waited until he finished eating, then asked.
"Well, tell me what happened with you, last time I remember you were with Setes."
"Old news, Setes is already dead." Red wiped his mouth with his sleeve.
"He died in Nizgad. After his death, his daughter took over the command."
"He had a daughter?" Belgada was surprised
"Yes, he had a wife from Katamiriu or somewhere, it didn't matter - he waved his hand - we were doing well until the siege of Kanror."
"Were you besieging Kanror?"
"No, I defended it. - Red smiled involuntarily - but the invader's advantage was huge. Kanror fell, and out of the entire unit, Setia and I survived. However we got separated and I'm looking for her now."
Belgada nodded.
"Hard times, Hadbel unites the principalities by the sword. Gemor is no opponent for him, he will pass through like a storm. We cannot count on a peaceful solution like in Prenian."
"In Prenian?" Red was surprised
"The Prince of Gardynia took Latamora's daughter as his wife, and there was a great wedding. - Belgada cleared away the empty bowl and brought a mug of cold beer.
"Who would have thought that?" Red mused.
"Soon the Equerds will rule all of Hadgard." He added louder.
"Are you staying longer?" Belgada asked
"I'm tight on money," Red sighed, "and I need to get to Fenigrid."
"You've always had a hard time with money." Belgada laughed. After a moment's thought, she added.
"There's a group of Prenian merchants here, and they'd be happy to hire someone for security. They're going towards Fenigrid, so you're probably on the way?"
"Very much so, you are wonderful." Red winked at her over his mug of beer.
The Equerds occupied all of southern Hadgard. So Setia was left with Gemor and Tree City as its capital, where even a mouse cannot slip through, because every stranger causes a sensation. Merchant Basaldia, which is cosmopolitan but quite remote. His sixth sense told him that Setia was somewhere in Fenigrid. He will find her, it's only a matter of time. Who knows, maybe he'll even manage to take her to Gorsep.
* * *
In another wheelbarrow, Moros was bringing clay to Hiron from the stream. The blacksmith showed him the best place and now he could wallow in the muddy goop as much as he wanted. He didn't complain, he was used to hard work and Hiron didn't give him orders. It was Moros himself who offered to help him. He wanted to repay everything in some way. Setia had been gone for three days and Hiron was getting nervous. As he himself said, hard work helps the nerves best, so he started building a fume hood.
Moros knew now, that this strange structure that Hiron was building, was not a crooked castle with a leaning tower, but a furnace for smelting iron from bog ore. The furnace was disposable, so a lot of clay was needed to create more fumes. He had already transported the first iron loot to the cave. Hiron said he would use them to make knives and arrowheads to sell at the market. He told him something else about the quality of iron, but Moros couldn't really focus on it. He was wondering what would happen next. He can't spend the rest of his life here. He didn't talk to Setia about the future. Back there in the swamp he saved her life, and then she saved him as he lay sick with swamp fever. In fact, they didn't owe each other anything and he kept thinking what will happen when she returns.
The wheelbarrow got stuck in the soft ground, he was driving along the same road for the fifth time and managed to break the beaten path. He had to brace himself with his feet and push the wheelbarrow forward with all his might, almost tipping over the entire load. It was stuffy and Moros worked in only his pants. When Hiron saw its back marked by the lashes Moros had received from his previous owners, he began to look at it more closely. So during the lunch break he told Hiron who he really was.
The dwarf scratched his bald skull, then revealed the sweatshirt on his chest and showed the young man the burned-out symbol.
"This is how slaves are marked in Orchad. Not all of them, just the lower rank ones. I know what it's like when someone thinks you are their property. Setes saved me many years ago. Today I am a famous blacksmith from White Canyon - he smiled sadly - but I used to fight with dogs over leftovers of moldy food. You can't change the past, you don't know what awaits you. It's important today because it's the only thing you have power over. And today, we smelt iron. Come on, I'll teach you how to do it." Hiron patted Moros on the back and walked with a slightly unsteady waddle gait to the meadow in front of the cave, where he had already started building another furnace.
Moros got up and followed him.