Imbert emerged from the other side of the bushes, an unsheathed sword in hand. The knight's cold glance swept across the armed group, as if checking which prey to strike first. He only kept his sword in its scabbard after receiving a silent signal from his liege.
"He's my guard," Arlan spoke in their language, informing them that Imbert was his man and that there was no need to fight. His knight cooperatively stayed in place, as if to prove that he had no unfriendly intentions. Only then did the tribesmen lower their weapons.
Time trickled on, and as Oriana said, the boy's complexion looked better. He could even open his eyes.
Oriana smiled at him, her gaze bright and pleasant. "You are fine now, kid."
The boy didn't understand what she said and looked at the leader, who spoke to him in a low tone. The boy tried to sit up with Oriana helping him and he said something to her.
"He is thanking you," Arlan explained.
