"You there, peasant. Explain who those soldiers are, and who they're fighting so desperately."
In front of Barking Mirielle, Dromele looked like a dried twig ready to be blown away by a strong gust.
"Re-revolutionist!" He stammered, and the next that came from his mouth was pretty much standard knowledge. "From the capital, sent here many years ago, been clashin' with the rebels for years also, and--."
Before he could finish, another question came. This time from the young blondie gal who had been easily quiet since they left the village outskirts. The way she looked at him further exacerbated the tension he felt.
"Tell me more about the witch from the mountain, Mister."
And then more came, this time from that lady earlier.
"While we are at it, sir, perhaps you can tell us about whom exactly the soldiers meant when they say traitors."
Dromele did not like it, not at all. The way they looked at him reminded him of the way the soldiers questioned him before they dragged him away to be hanged. He was a simple hunter with a simple wish to feed his family, he only knew how to live his ordinary life and survive. And the thing about surviving made something inside him click.
"How I supposed to know?! I ain't omniscience! This witch and this traitor, don't know it all! might be something the soldiers accuse us, ordinary folks just a fun of it? Who knows!?"
The outburst surprised Dromele to his core, and he was quick to apologize. Eyes were downcast, but his resolution to not divulge more remained unchanged.
"Please ask no more of those matters, good sir, lady. I wish no harm to me or me family. Both the rebels and the soldiers are vicious they wouldn't hesitate to burn the houses and fellow who tells words to the wrong kind of folks."
He looked at Carmen with hope. "Pardon sire, but I have fulfilled the end of me bargain. May I go back to Olbei? Me wife and son must be worried sick right now."
Captain Friston stood up. For a painful moment, he had endured listening to Carnathia's long-winded speech, urging the rest of the group to not seek retribution. For the record, he actually agreed with her about the importance of understanding the clear picture, but when he recalled her speech about not seeking justice and the mission parameter, something inside him started to boil. The last straw was when she reminded them that they were obliged to report to the 'Case officer'.
"No! No! We report to The Order!" he refuted abruptly eyes gazed sharply at Carnathia, and for that brief moment, it looked like Carmen was in terrible psychological pain. "Not some elven woman who thinks she knows it all. It is absurd! If only this damned Case officer did not stall our mission with unnecessary precautions, those... they could still be saved. What is the merit of following order if it impedes us from preventing unnecessary death?"
It was the first time Captain Carmen Friston showed his stern side before he retreated back to a melancholic man the party knew too well, sad, troubled, but reasonable.
"But you are right. We must not act rashly before we know what is happening to the fellowship, and the way I see it our investigation is far from finished."
He detached the lantern from his belt and then turned to the peasant.
"You can go now, Dromele." Carmen said wearily. "May your path be safe and we shall meet again in better circumstances."