The morning dawned with the sound of roosters crowing outside, their insistent calls piercing through the thick wooden walls of the inn.
Hamon stirred from his deep slumber, his body stiff from the night's events. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and took stock of the unfamiliar surroundings.
Glancing at the hole in the wall, he couldn't help but sigh at the memory of last night's skirmish.
With the thought that he had given the stable boy enough of a scare that he wouldn't do something like this again, Hamon simply told the captain that his attacker was wearing a mask, so he couldn't see his face.
As for his fight with Vera, he gave them a simple explanation that it was all a misunderstanding. In the end, they all returned to their slumber, while the innkeeper apologized profusely and insisted on moving them to a new room. However, Hamon was too lazy to move his belongings, so he just slept there.
He stretched out his limbs and swung his legs over the side of the bed, planting his feet firmly on the cold floor. 'I need a walk.'
With that thought in mind, Hamon made his way to the stairs. As he descended, the creaked of the aged wooden steps echoed through the otherwise quiet inn. The place was still wrapped in the embrace of early morning, the candles and fireplace had all but disappeared, leaving a faint scent of smoke.
Outside, the rain had stopped, leaving the windows clear to show the first light of dawn, painting the room in soft hues of orange and pink.
He approached the counter where the innkeeper was busy with the day's prep. She looked up at him, her eyes red from the previous night's worry and lack of sleep.
"Good morning," she said, her voice a tired whisper.
"Morning." He replied, taking out a gold coin from his pocket. "This is for the damage."
The lady looked at the coin with a flicker of surprise before her face broke into a smile. "Thank you, but this is too much for such a small amount of damage. Besides, it's hardly your fault."
"I don't have anything smaller, so you may keep it," Hamon said with a smile as he turned to head toward the door.
He stepped outside, the cool morning breeze washing over him. The village was slowly waking up, with smoke rising from the chimneys and the distant sound of a blacksmith's hammer ringing out. He took a moment to appreciate the quiet, knowing it wouldn't last long. The parade of last night had left a palpable tension in the air.
He made his way down the muddy street, the thick squelch of his boots echoed with every step. The village felt charming, with cozy wooden houses snuggling up to each other for warmth. His destination was the stable, it was a modest affair, nestled just beside the inn.
The familiar smell of hay and horse manure filled the air, bringing back warm memories of his journeys. When he stepped inside, he spotted the stable boy curled up asleep on the hay.
"Lad." He lifted his boot and nudged the young man.
The young man stirred, then with a sudden jerk, his eyes snapped open. He bolted upright like a spooked animal. When his gaze fell on Hamon, his eyes widened, and his body froze as if he had seen a ghost.
"I-I'm sorry!" he babbled, his voice thick with fear. "P-Please don't kill me! Please! I won't do it again, I swear!"
The young man began to inch back. "I don't mean any harm! I just want to knock you out!"
"Alright! Calm down, I'm not going to kill you." Hamon raised his hand, attempting to reassure. "I'm here to see my horse."
The stable boy's shoulders dropped with relief, but his eyes remained cautious. "Really?"
"Really."
The young man looked at him for a moment before nodding and quickly scurried to the stall where Hamon's steed was tethered. "This way."
The horse whinnied as Hamon approached, recognizing his master. It was a beautiful creature, tall and muscular, with a glossy black coat that gleamed even in the dim light of the stable. Despite the weariness from the journey, it looked well-rested and well-fed.
The horse snorted and stamped its foot as Harmo scratched its head. He couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. "Easy there, girl. You're not going anywhere today."
Turning to the stable boy, Hamon praised, "Your care for her is commendable. You've done well."
"T-Thank you." The young man bowed.
"What is your name?"
"Cal," he replied.
"Alright, Cal, keep taking good care of her." Hamon patted his shoulder.
Cal nodded vigorously. "Yes, sir!"
The warmth of the stable was a stark contrast to the chill outside, but Hamon knew he couldn't linger. With a final pat on the horse's neck, he stepped back into the street.
But before he could leave, the stable boy stopped him.
"Sir!" Cal shouted. He dropped to his knees, pressing his forehead against the muddy ground. "Please forgive me for my wrongdoing last night! I'm really sorry! My mother fell sick, and with the recent medicine shortage because of the bandit attacks, I—I—"
"I don't care why you did it," Hamon cut him off, already walking away. "But I do care that you disrupted my sleep. Next time, at least wait until I'm awake."
"N-No, sir! I'll never do it again, I swear!" the young man stammered, his voice full of panic.
"Good for you." Hamon chuckled.
The village was now fully awake, the streets bustling with early morning activity. Hamon took a moment to survey the scene, noticing the villagers casting wary glances towards the barracks where the surviving guards were likely to be receiving medical care. The sight of Lady Vera, the mysterious red-haired knight, was also a topic of hushed whispers among the folk.
As he walked away, the sound of his stomach growling grew louder, reminding him that he hadn't had anything to eat since the meal last night. So, he returned to the inn, sat at the same table, and ordered breakfast.
The innkeeper brought him a hearty meal of eggs, thick slices of bread, and a slab of roast venison, still sizzling from the pan. The aroma of rosemary and thyme wafted through the air, making his mouth water.
Hamon stabbed his fork into the meat and took a bite. The taste was heavenly, the perfect balance of salt and spices that melted in his mouth.
'This tastes better than last night's meal.' He was about to take another when the door creaked open, letting in a burst of cool inside.
Three figures walked into the inn, their footsteps heavy with purpose. Vera, Elling, and the captain. They didn't bother looking around the room; their eyes were locked on him.
Vera's red hair was tied back into a tight bun, and her armor was replaced by a simple tunic, showing her muscular arms. She had cleaned herself up from yesterday's battle but the fatigue was still etched into her face. Perhaps even more so after their encounter last night.
Elling looked slightly better rested than the others, a hint of amusement in his gaze as he watched Hamon devour his breakfast.
The captain, however, looked as though he hadn't slept at all, his eyes bloodshot, and his face lined with worry.
"I see you're enjoying our village's specialty," Elling said, sliding into a chair opposite Hamon. The captain took a seat beside him.
"It was the finest meat I have ever tasted."
"Indeed, the finest." Elling nodded.
The captain leaned forward, his gaze intense. "I apologize for interrupting your meal, but we have something to discuss with you."
Then he turned to look at Vera.
"Let me introduce myself properly." Vera stepped forward, extending her hand. "I'm Veronica Everett, second daughter of the Everett family."
"Everett? The advisors to the Malican throne?" Hamon mused, his brows knitted together. "Interesting company for a man like me to have."
"You know a lot about us, for a northerner."
"I can proudly say that I'm one of the wisest Northmen out there." He chuckled to himself, as if he found his own words amusing.
"Wisdom and arrogance aren't the same thing, but I suppose in the North they might be," Vera remarked as she settled beside him.
"Such high praise from a lady like you—I'm truly honored," Hamon responded, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Anyway, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"
Vera fixed him with a flat look before cutting straight to the heart of the matter. "I trust you have heard about our convoy, correct?"
Hamon offered a silent nod.
"I was tasked with escorting someone important from the royal court."
Vera's expression remained stoic as she spoke.
"He was to be sent to the Free City of Thoria as an envoy, to negotiate a trade deal that would be vital to the upcoming war," she continued. At this point, there was a hint of anger in her tone. "However, he was kidnapped during the raid."
Hamon nodded thoughtfully, recognizing the gravity of the situation. "And what do you want from me? Let me warn you, I may be reckless, but I am not stupid. So please don't expect me to rush into a bandit stronghold with just you and the group of little men you have here."
"We are not." Vera's gaze never left him, her expression unreadable. "We can't even if we want to."
The captain leaned in. "We do not know the exact location of their camp, but we believe they are in the valley to the west."
"Why so?"
Elling took a deep breath before chiming in to explain. "These bandits have been a thorn in our side for as long as I can recall, but things have never been this dire. So of course, there are whispers about their hiding spots."
"It wasn't just a camp. They said it was more of a fortress, operating like a regular town or village—only run by criminals and openly welcoming to anyone like them." The captain added.
Hamon took a sip of his drink, his eyes drifting over the three as he listened. From the way their conversation unfolded, it was clear they were basing their next move on nothing more than a rumor.
That meant they had no other leads—only the hope that the kidnappers were the same bandits from the valley and that they still kept their important hostages in their stronghold there.
Then his gaze settled on Vera. She seemed at ease, showing no sense of urgency or whatever. Just like when she first arrived—her priority had been a hot bath.
'Is she already giving up on rescuing the hostage alive?' Hamon wondered.
If it were him, he'd probably do the same. The fact that they had taken a hostage instead of killing him on the spot already revealed that this wasn't just a random act of slaughter and robbery. He didn't know what they wanted with the envoy, but he knew it was only a matter of time before his usefulness ran out.
And time was the one thing Vera didn't have.
Still, something felt off to Hamon. His nose prickled—there was a stench to this whole situation. It wasn't as simple as it seemed, as everyone thought it was.