The air was crisp and dry, the desert still lingering some miles at their backs . Though the land had grown greener, the heat remained the same.
They were all miserable,all except Jarza, who, after some good meals and water, looked as if he were a king among peasants.
Alpheo felt envy of that.
Luckily they weren't to stay there for long, the old man finally returned, his limp more pronounced as he led a group of young men carrying sacks on their back along with of course the other thing he had requested.
Alpheo watched them closely, noting the flicker of fear in their eyes. They didn't need to be told to know the truth. He and his men could reduce this village to cinders if they wished. Nothing could stop them.
One by one, the villagers laid down their burdens.
Alpheo counted with meticulous care, his mind swiftly measuring the value of what they had received in exchange for Silveriis. It was fair...for his party.
He could press them for more, use steel or fear to squeeze out another handful of supplies,but there were other villages ahead, and he of course, needed something else from this one.
He gave a brief nod, signaling his men to prepare for departure, before motioning for Jarva to follow.
"He says he's done his part and asks us to leave as soon as possible," Jarza translated.
Alpheo offered a small, almost amused smile. "Tell him we share that wish too''
As Jarza relayed the message, Alpheo reached for his belt. The old man stiffened, his breath hitching as his fingers twitched toward his robes. But instead of drawing steel, Alpheo retrieved a second pouch of coins and tossed it toward him.
The old man caught it, startled. "Farzah ay tarka?"
Alpheo didn't need the translation to understand.
"Consider it payment for another service," he replied smoothly, stepping in closer. "A simple one."
He paused, watching the man's eyes dart with unease before continuing. "If anyone comes asking about us, you will tell them we passed through, that we took supplies through threats, and that you sent us on our way with women to keep us satisfied. Then, you will point them east, toward the rising sun." He chuckled. "Almost poetic, don't you think?"
Jarza hesitated, eyeing the old man . "And what if he turns on us? He's already got the silver. What's stopping him from sending our hunters straight to us and fuck us in the arse?"
Alpheo smirked. "Then we make sure he has something to fear more than them."
Jarza simply gave a nod as he relayed everything.
Alpheo watched in silence as the man's expression warped. He didn't look convinced.
Still Alpheo knew he only needed a small push.
"Tell him this: if anyone comes sniffing, we will tell them we paid handsomely for these supplies and women with their stolen gold. I am sure whatever pursuers they will send will visit here after dealing with us..."
Jarza's grin was widened as he understood Alpheo's game
They watched as the old man's face paled, his body trembling ever so slightly.
The message had landed.
Satisfied with that , Alpheo turned away, his men already preparing to leave.
As they approached, Alpheo reached for a sack filled with oats, motioning for the others to do the same. He knew that leading by example was important, especially when he needed their service even after they were out of danger.
Better not give anyone shit to throw at me, he thought as he trudged forward.
They continued walking towards their "sleeping quarters," which consisted of a few scattered tents and supplies taken from their previous location.
Alpheo couldn't help but feel a bit of distaste, after all, this was hardly what he would call a camp. There were no walls or ditches surrounding them, no watchparty to keep guard. But time was of the essence, and speed their best weapon.
They needed to move quickly and quietly, avoiding any attention or danger that could arise from making too much noise or leaving a trace of their whereabouts.
Also even if that was not the case, where were they to take the wood? And how would they build all of that? They had no nails, no axes, or saws…
"Hey Alph," Clio spoke as he caught sight of the group, his eyes shifting towards the various items they had brought with them. "Seems like the exchange went well," he muttered as he aided him with the burden
"It did, but I don't want to linger here," Alpheo replied, accepting the help, sweat beading on his forehead from the weight of the bag. "The faster we march out of this hellish land, the sooner we can start moving forward to something we may call life."
Clio furrowed his brow in concern. "You feel trouble arising?"
Alpheo sighed, adjusting the straps of his backpack. "No, but I don't want to risk it. It's better if we don't stay in one place for too long," he commented, fearing pursuers that however would never come.
Soon night arrived, the rays of the sun giving way to the darkness of the night.
Around the camp, many fires were burning, with men in circles letting the flames warm their flesh, while atop them, large pots filled with grains and water simmered over open flames.
Some who were given the task to cook stirred the contents of the pots with wooden spoons they took from the village, ensuring that the grains cooked evenly and didn't stick to the bottom. The mixture slowly thickened, transforming into a hearty porridge-like substance.
In the waiting, others tore pieces of bread they had bought from the village, arranging them on makeshift plates made of stones or cloths.
Bread and porridge , that was all...
To the modern man, such a meal may seem lackluster, but to the ex-slaves who were only given hard bread at their master's whim, the soft bread and porridge spread before them seemed like a banquet fit for the gods.
Alpheo, with his small frame and wild hair, tore into his food with the voracity of four men,none of them knew when they would get to eat again, after all, good times were not made to last long. His companions followed suit, devouring the meal with gusto while also keeping their hands at the ready in case someone tried to steal it from them.
There were in fact, some incidents of steeling around camp, so the suspicion wasn't unfounded.
Still really such way of passing their days wasn't relevant only when food was around, but rather it was about everything they now had.
For a man who grew up with little would fight the hardest to keep what was his.