The room was silent, and a lot of it was in doubt of the Rongo Mercenary Team's movements in the territory.
Fargo looked at him, before looking away to enter his own thoughts.
Something was obviously going on, and a sense of foreboding occupied him. He narrowed his eyes, his mind calculating what he could do at this time.
"Assign teams to go look for them tomorrow morning," he said. "Be fully armed and make sure each team has at least a few powerhouses. Form teams at least twice as large as you used to.
"Call in all the slaves, be sure to check for stowaways," It was regretful that such important jobs had to be halted, but something was obviously going on and he wasn't willing to risk hundreds of working slaves at this time.
The cronies nodded. "Yes, milord!"
They were about to adjourn when—all of a sudden—Belize stood up. It was so abrupt that his chair fell and it raised an alarm in everyone else's hearts.
