Wilson was in the carriage with his father as they set forth for their fiefdom. There was an awkward silence between them. His father has never been the type to talk or initiate conversation. While he can hold a conversation and can be entertaining, with loved ones he has always been cautious and careful. It was as if he was afraid he would scare away his family by saying the wrong thing.
Though his concerns were legitimate in a sense. There are reasons why Chris is afraid of him. Most of his words were not said in jest, and were usually true or something he would indeed do. Like his promise to Chris that there will be a new training regimen for him in the summer; a sample list was provided as a preview.
Chris visibly looked pale when the Earl gave him a few exercises he could condition himself with before the main regimen. Alexus, who was with them at the send-off, was impressed with the plan and had a small talk with the Earl about how to improve it further. Poor Chris could only turn to Wilson, who only cheered him on that he could survive the ordeal.
And that started the three-week journey home.
Wilson knew of his father's awkwardness and straightforward nature, so he took the initiative to talk once in a while so that the carriage ride was not too monotonous. Between carriage rides, they shared spars and little hunting games to keep things more lively. After three weeks of traveling, they finally arrived at the edge of Rhinies, the land of Thymes, their home and territory.
Located at the furthest north of the kingdom, it was a land shielded by great mountains and is often cool all year long. The planting and harvest period is short, and their main sources of income are the timber from the mountains and a few minerals they can mine.
"I forgot it is autumn now," Wilson said as he saw the golden fields before him. "Did you already organize the harvest team?"
"The fields were not quite ready before I left," his father said, looking at the fields as well. "Your mother should have worked on that as we speak. She's always concerned about food more than anyone else."
"Better not let her know you've said that, Father," Wilson said, agreeing with his father's statements. His mother is a glutton who has driven their territory's culinary culture to sate her taste buds. As long as it relates to food, she will have some sort of involvement in it.
"Well, you're not telling her about it, right?" His father looked at him straight in the eye.
"I promise not to say anything," Wilson was quick to reply. "But mother has the uncanny ability to know if we talk about her. If she somehow gets a wind of your words, please don't drag me into it."
"I'll take responsibility for my words at that time," the Earl said like the man of honor he was. "As long as you don't leak them, I can deal with my wife's verdict until then."
"You have my word." Wilson solemnly promised. "Still, now that we're near home, would you like to drop by the market to bring a few gifts for mother?"
The Earl looked thoughtful, then directed their escorts to head to the market for a short break.
The knights, well-organized, changed their direction to head to the nearest marketplace. It was an hour's journey there, and it was not the biggest one in the whole Fiefdom. Still, it was a lively place with plenty of people coming and going.
"I'll be headed over there," the Earl said to Wilson as they disembarked from the carriage. "Feel free to wander about in the meantime and bring back what catches your attention. The rest will be stocking up on a few rations and some necessities before we leave in two hours."
Wilson nodded at the instructions. As their group scattered around, Wilson looked at the lines of shops in the market. Despite the size of the place, the market is surprisingly diverse in terms of merchandises available.
On one stall, a set of carving knives was displayed. It was finely made. And from the looks of it, it was made from genuine steel. His third brother will be pleased to use it for his woodworks.
Communicating with the stall owner, Wilson bought it for a reasonable price. Alongside it, Wilson bought a few daggers that were made from the same materials as the carving knives. It will be a good addition to his arsenal of hidden weapons to use in the case of danger.
John, who was following him dutifully, took the things and settled the bill for Wilson. They then continued to stroll and browse through the stalls and stores to see if anything else caught their eyes. And they were not disappointed; they were able to get suitable presents for Wilson's younger siblings and his mother.
Satisfied with his haul, Wilson then went to a restaurant to reward themselves for their hard work. Without preamble, he had John eat with him as they waited for the time to pass. They still have roughly 30 more minutes before the agreed meeting time.
Finished with his plate, Wilson decided to look around to survey the flow of people outside. As he observed, there were indeed too many people relative to the market's size. Not to mention, there are plenty of foreign faces among them.
"John," Wilson addressed his loyal servant. "You're often in correspondence with the main house, right?"
"Yes, I'm always up to date with most news on the family residence," John confirmed.
"Good," Wilson said, hearing John's affirmation. "Did they mention the spike of foreigners here?"
"There were words about it, my lord," John confirmed. "However, there wasn't much action taken about it, as it appears that they are simply looking for a place to settle in."
"Did the spike in the illness start with these people settling in?" John asked as he tapped the table.
"It did. From what my nephew informed me, it points out that the recent spread only happened after most of them finally had homes to settle in."
"Father must have quite a number of things to keep things running in this case," Wilson said as he eyed a few of the passersby, being dirty and miserable. "This number of people are going to bring us an issue that won't be easy to solve, no matter how wealthy our family is."