Time flies and their session in that tavern continued. Some would spend the rest of the day chatting with each other, annoying the barkeep some more, or strolling around the town, shopping for provisions or just anything Dragon's Maw had to offer.
Carmen rested in his room until sunset and woke up when it was time for dinner. There were some small celebrations, notably from some veterans who served under his command. While he no longer participates in rowdy carouses, he could afford to stay for a while and entertain his old peers for a while, telling the story about the order and his past missions.
And then he would retreat to his room and get another sleep.
The next morning, after a round of tasty breakfast, the group left Dragon's Maw without delay, each riding their horses. Nine people heading straight to No Man's Land, and no one sent them off or wished them good luck. Such a gloomy way to continue a long journey, but not something unexpected.
******
The No Man's Land
Life begins at the other side of despair. We cannot escape anguish. It is what we are._______
Weeks of grueling journeys on horseback would make anyone appear disheveled and drained, but the emptiness of the great steppe that stretched from Dragon's Maw to Sielse was almost nauseating. But it also has its boon, the plainness of the land made it easier to spot anyone over the distance, and considering the reputation of Tretagor, it at least made it easier to sleep at night.
So, when the group finally arrived at Sielse, there was a joyous feeling when the staple scenery was green forest again, although the occasional rains would hamper their journey and make their dinner cold, the change of atmosphere was pretty much welcomed.
It was, until eleven days passed since they crossed into the war-torn province.
In many places, the sign of blight could be seen in the forestry. And houses, either ruined or abandoned, had become the occasional varieties to see along the way. It was hard to imagine what fate befallen the inhabitants, but one thing was for sure, Carmen knew they had to double their vigilance.
Today was the thirteenth day since they crossed the border.
The smell of mud and horse dung made Carmen spit on the brown tarnished earth below. It was still morning and some of them had slept half the time healthy person was supposed to.
After seeing the first sign of slaughter, the fellowship had decided that a night watch was necessary. The threat from wild animals, especially during wartime was very real. Not only that, they also need to watch out for potential danger from fellow humans. They had yet to witness any battle, but the aftermath of it had been very apparent so far.
Followed by others, The Captain guided his horse to walk slowly. Ahead of them, there was a wooden beam placed diagonally on top of two crossing logs. At the summit of that beam dangled a dried skeleton.
It was the first time the vulgar memento of the cruelty of war laid bare before them, but that poor hangman was not the only sign Carmen was focused on. In the distance, there was a faint trail of smoke ascending, and as they rode further, the sound of someone crying for help could be heard.
____
"You hear that?" Carmen raised his index finger and reined his horse to stop. "Sounds like someone is in distress. Let's find them!"
Either moved by a sense of duty as a clergyman or simply tired of not encountering any locals for almost two weeks, the captain raced his horse toward the source of the voice. Thankfully the voice did not guide him off the beaten path, but rather, straight to the country road they intended to take.
"It wasn't me! You gotta believe me! Gods! Gods In the sky! Mercy for this poor soul!" The cries were clearer now, but after that only silence followed. Thankfully the person in distress could be easily located after they rode past a turn. But something was amiss.
Dead ahead they could see six people, five clad in red-striped uniforms while the last men wore ragged clothes often associated with peasantries. One of the uninformed men bashed the peasant's chest with his musket, while another had already collared that peasant with a rope affixed to a similar wooden apparatus they had seen earlier.
The arrival of the fellowship startled the men, who immediately assumed a position to attack.
""Halt! Halt! Who goes there?! State your business or we will hang you like pigs!" One of the men shouted and pointed his poleaxe toward the incoming riders. Unlike his friends, this man wore a distinctive metal helmet and seemed sturdier and more armored, giving the impression that he outranked all others.
"We mean you no harm!" answered Captain Friston, slowing his horse and eventually dismounted. "My name is Carmen Andario Friston, We are from The Order of The Golden Sun, and I approach you without any intention to incite hostility, we are simply here to look for someone."
"Golden Sun? Never heard about it. Who is this someone?!" Hoarsed the sergeant, who upon closer inspection looked like soldiers belonging to an unknown faction, presumably Tretagorian revolutionists from their color scheme, but they lacked any identifiable insignias.
"That will be our Paladin, Thomas Sanders, and volunteers. Perhaps you have seen him? Or heard about him and his group? They were dressed in blue like us."
"Oh yah? What are they doing in these parts?"Carmen offered the man one of his friendliest smiles. "To help the locals, Good Sir. Paladin Thomas and some of his attendees are capable doctors and healers. They are here to practice the pillars of our teaching, which is to do good to all living beings. Sadly we have been in lost contact with Paladin and all of his entourage. So please sir, if there is something you know, would you kindly inform us?"
When Carmen mentioned the Paladin's predicament, the sergeant snorted like he had offended him somehow.
"We know nothing. This region is under military supervision and you all have entered unlawfully. I suggest you turn back to your country, pronto!"It was Carmen's turn to frown. "Excuse me?"
Before the disagreement could continue, they were interrupted by the peasant, who already had his head covered by a burlap sack and standing on top of a wooden stool with a rope around his neck to keep him from falling over. Behind the coarse fabric, his desperate voice cracked by the tension from the rope and fear of death.
"Sir, I know who you are looking for! I saw them, clad in blue like royalty, had a sword but never raised against the poor and defenseless. Came with lads and gals! I know sir and I know where they went... please save me, save me sire! I ain't do no wrong I swear!"
Hearing that, the sergeant looked even more agitated. He looked back and shouted.
"Quiet! Argh! Just drop the bastard!"One of the soldiers kicked the stool, and what followed was an agonizing strangling voice of a man.
"You heard what I said. Return to your country while you can. And While we still ask nicely." But Carmen's attention was already on the dying peasant. "What crimes he was guilty of?"
"That's none of your business, but I will tell you anyway. He hunted animals and stole grains from Eldorman's warehouse. A capital offense, but we had hanged people for less. Now, there you go! Answered your question, Get lost! All of you before I hang you all too!"A mixed feeling of anger, frustration, and doubt now swirled inside Captain Friston's head. As he watched the peasant struggling for breath, he wasn't only seeing a man being punished unjustly, but also his chance to find Thomas being taken away from him. Sternly, he looked at the sergeant, and in that moment, he knew he had to make a choice.
