From Londoner To Lord

Chapter 398 392. Predicament - V

Feroy shook his head. "No. We can't possibly wait that long."

Hyola thought of an idea, feeling proud that she could read a little by now, since attending Gorsazo's classes at least twice a week was mandatory for all guards. Those who had the time and were interested could certainly attend more of them—the classes were free, after all. She asked, "Can't we write some instructions for them or something to follow us to Tiranat?"

"No slaves are taught to read," Feroy said. "Only someone who comes here to check on things will be reading it. And we can't risk that."

One of the slaves snorted. "Nobody comes here. The knight ran his drug business here for that very reason. This farm is so isolated already, but the knight didn't entertain any visitors at all."

"Someone still has to be coming here soon," Feroy muttered. "You said they were smuggling Veydril to Ulriga. Even if they were processing it here, I know it can't be produced here. The plant that drug is made from only grows in dense forests—like in the southern forest. Someone has to be bringing it here from those forests, before the knight used to repackage it for sale in the city."

"He bought it from somewhere in the south," the slave agreed. "I don't know where, before he smuggled it to Ulriga using us slaves. If they get caught, they've been told to take their own life. The knight was pretty clear that if someone blabbed about it, and a patrol from the count or the duke comes here to investigate the drug, every single one of that man's family members will be killed in retaliation. That's how he kept us in line."

Hyola grimaced, hearing the brutality of the knight. His end had been far too kind, compared to what he truly deserved.

"What's your point?" Feroy asked.

"I mean," the slave answered in a hurry, "you can write all the instructions you want. One of the four men who is out has been taught to read a little so he could count the gold he receives from the Veydril dealer in Ulriga. No one else will come here."

Feroy frowned. "I can't believe the knight would ever risk his slaves running away with that money."

"No, no," the man immediately shook his head. "It was only so the slaves would bring the right amount of money out of the shop, or wherever it is sold. This way, if the authorities caught them, only the slave and the dealer would be caught, and the guard would stay safe. At least one guard always went to Ulriga with the slaves, and he would take the gold from the slave right after they had moved away from the dealer. Then he would bring the gold here along with the slaves."

He quickly added, "So if you write some hints about where you're taking us, and also tell them to burn it or something after they read it, I think it'll work. Just one guard has gone with the group this time, and those four men can easily kill him once they realize what's happened—especially if you hide a knife or two here for them. We aren't allowed any weapons otherwise."

"Writing something is still going to be risky…" Feroy muttered as he looked into the distance.

Immediately, one of the girls cried, "I'm not leaving without Pa!"

Another woman also pleaded, "We can't leave them! My husband is amongst those four men. If they think we were killed after seeing all that blood, then they wouldn't have any reason to live anymore!"

Hyola looked at her in surprise.

"She's right," the man who had been acting as the leader of the slaves agreed. "The knight only sends those slaves who have family here. My brother," he pointed out at some other slaves, "her father, her husband, and that woman's son. They are the ones who are out. If they see so much blood here, and think we're dead, probably all of them would take their own lives, knowing they have nothing to live for anymore—they've already been trained to do that by the knight. Our lives are as close to shit as possible, so seeing that all their family members have been killed would be the final straw."

Hyola barely heard Feroy muttering some unspeakable expletives under his breath, and she fully agreed. This knight would give any cruel bandit leader a run for his gold. She felt glad the bastard was dead. Once again.

She looked at the ex-mercenary. "I know writing something is very risky, but those slaves won't do anything to risk the safety of their families."

Feroy seemed to be thinking for a while. Then he started giving orders. "Fine. I still don't like it but I think it's a risk we have to take. Bring me a piece of wooden board and some charcoal from the brazier. I'll write some simple instructions to them about how to follow us, and we'll keep it in that barn you all lived in."

One of the slaves immediately ran away to bring it.

"We can hide that board safely inside some clothes and other stuff—maybe a woman's clothes—in that barn," Hyola suggested, "so it wouldn't be found easily if someone else like the suppliers did come here first, but those male slaves would certainly search everywhere when they can't see their families, and they would surely find it."

"Good idea," Feroy agreed. "I'll write to them to burn the board after they're done reading."

"Why not burn the whole damn place already?" Hyola asked. "I don't see any reason to let it stand, apart from that barn. Nothing good ever happens here."

Feroy shook his head. "We can't risk it right now, or someone will notice the fire. If not in the day, then by the next night. And we won't be moving fast with so many women and kids with us, so we can't risk any pursuers. But I'll write to do that as well on the board and to bring in whatever gold they received in Ulriga. Those returning slaves will run to us right after they kill the last guard and set everything on fire. It'll make it impossible for anyone to find out what happened here. We'll also remove any traces of the crossbows being used tonight and we'll bury the bodies of those who were killed here."

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"They don't deserve it!" a slave spat.

"That's not the point," Feroy commented. "You said it'll take a few days for those slaves to come here. We can't risk someone finding out anything before that. Without any bodies, any visitors—like the drug supplier—will just think everyone is out of here for some reason. The blood left on the ground won't be of note if they knew anything about the knight."

The slave nodded. "We'll dig a grave for them between the bushes so it won't be seen easily." He pointed at the other male slaves. "Bring the shovels and follow me."

Feroy looked at the female slaves. "We also need to take everything of value from this place. Help us with that."

"You just said you were not bandits!" one of the women pointed out.

Feroy laughed. "Dead men won't need the gold or food stored here. Do you really want to protect the property of that knight?"

Once the woman shook her head, he added, "I meant it when I said we're not bandits and Tiranat takes care of all former slaves who've moved there. Everything we take from here will be used to feed people like you—other liberated slaves we've taken there in the past."

With that, everyone got to work.

***

It was well after midnight now. Taking care of everything had taken much longer than they expected, but finally, all the preparations were done. Hyola was sitting in one of the two wagons they had found here along with her trusty crossbow, since she couldn't ride her horse for now, while one of the slaves who knew how to ride had taken her place there. They had also found 4 other horses used for pulling those wagons, and they had been put to work.

All the female slaves and the children were sitting in the same wagon as her, with two of the male slaves sitting on the driver's seats. That was eighteen new slaves they were taking, with four more joining them in the near future when they returned from Ulriga. The other wagon was occupied by all their loot and covered by an oil cloth they'd found, and was going to be driven by the other male slave. Feroy was still going to ride his own horse, and was going to lead the small caravan. Most of the remaining losuvil powder had been used for any slaves who were sick or injured, which had only left enough of it for maybe a couple of uses. Hopefully that would do till they returned to Tiranat.

Hyola looked at the loot wagon and grinned. The wheat sown in the farms would take months to get ripe, but they had still found five sacks of wheat kept in the barn—which was nearly two months of supply for the locals, probably because the knight wanted to keep any contact with the outside world as limited as possible. The biggest haul was the full steel plate armor kept stacked up. It was old, a little rusted and was bent in some places, and would need repair before it could be used, but now Tiranat was going to get its own plate armor! Hyola wondered who would get to wear it—could it be Calubo…? She grinned just thinking about that mental image.

Wait, was it even allowed to let someone wear plate armor if he wasn't officially a knight? Maybe Lord Kivamus could appoint someone a knight by himself as a baron? Probably so, but that wasn't for her to worry about. She had done her part, and gotten a possibly broken ankle for her trouble. Although she would gladly pay a bigger price if it led to giving slaves a better life and helping Tiranat.

They had also searched the knight's own living quarters thoroughly using a burning torch—where they had found that plate armor—and had also found three good quality swords, a pike, and a big shield, likely his own from the time he used to be an active knight. Some good quality clothes had also been liberated from there, and finally, in a strongbox hidden under the floor, there was a lot of gold. Nearly 300 coins at a quick count, which Feroy had kept with himself for now. The ownership paper of the slaves had also been taken in case a count's patrol found them on the road—although it would be better not to have any need to show them on the way. Feroy had also promised the slaves to let them burn it by themselves once they reached Tiranat as a symbol of their new freedom.

All that was apart from the seven low quality swords used by the dead guards they had taken, as well as any leather armor which was salvageable. She had also found a small stock of the drug Veydril which she was planning to burn, since it didn't have any good uses, but Feroy had taken it with him, claiming it could be used in an interrogation. Hyola had been confused before she realized what he meant and had handed it over with a grimace. Well, whatever helped Tiranat against its countless enemies was fine by her.

Once everything was done and Feroy had kept the wooden board with instructions in the slaves' barn—along with some non-perishable food and a pair of knives—he had spread some blood there too. While the dead bodies had been buried, it wasn't possible to check and remove all blood spatters in the night, so Feroy had thought of that idea. Now anyone coming here to investigate would think it was some bandit group which killed the knight and the guards and stole the slaves—who had obviously resisted thoroughly before being captured. It wouldn't do well to let anyone think that the slaves had escaped without injuries, which could mean they were the ones who had killed their masters. That would never end well for any other slaves in the region.

Finally, Feroy mounted his horse and rode towards her, where she was sitting at the end of the wagon. "You keep an eye on this side, and I'll cover the front."

"You can…" Hyola yawned. "You can count on me."

"Sure I can," Feroy snorted. "We're only going to travel till the sun's up. Just try to stay awake until then. We'll look for a big copse of trees, where we'll hide during the day and let everyone rest. We're only going to travel in the nights till we pass Cinran and reach the road going south to Tiranat."

Hyola nodded. The losuvil powder was doing its effect and she wasn't feeling any pain in her ankle now, but it had also made her a little drowsy. But even without that, normal people needed sleep when they were tired, unlike the ghost in front of her. "Don't worry... I'll manage."

Feroy nodded, before he looked at the wagon drivers. "Let's go! Time's a-wastin'."

With that, he took his horse to the front and started moving southwards at a slow pace. The loot wagon followed behind him—since that driver knew the local terrain for some distance—followed by Hyola's wagon, with her crossbow already loaded in her hands.

It was going to be a long journey, but looking at the weary, exhausted, but hopeful faces of the slaves and their kids, she felt proud of herself.

Hell yeah! This was what Tiranat stood for. She grinned.

Hyola—three; old bastard—zero!

No, wait! She snorted as she remembered where the man was now.

Hyola—three; Dead bastard—zero!