The convoy was a mere afternoon’s travel from the city of Myrmien, after the conflict at the quarry their group had taken on many of the former captives. They had luckily managed to minimize the loss in travel time by repairing some of the wagons and carriages back at the bandit camp, enough to carry the rescued people and the recovered loot. Many wagons were overburdened however, with people, supplies, or treasure. Resulting in an unscheduled stop at the nearest destination, Myrmien; to unload the recently acquired loot and procure more wagons.

“My Lord, what would you like us to do with the captives?” Maatilani spoke not of the rescued captives, but instead referred to the two short columns of bandits trailing behind the rear of the convoy.

Each man was securely tied to the man behind, thick ropes bound their wrists then down through their legs and around the wrists of the man to their rear. Strapped to their back were sacks of supplies with armed guards keeping a close eye upon them. Throughout the four-day trip from the quarry to the Myrmien, with many of the more heavily injured dropping along the way. They were fed very little, left exposed to the elements, and forced to relieve themselves where they stood.

“Maati, you know there is no need for such formality. As one of my apprentices, you can call me by my first name.” Maatilani glanced over towards the Scholar, taking no time at all before responding. “That would be improper my Lord, even as your student we must show proper respect. Only when I rise to the appropriate station will I contemplate your offer.”

“Fine, suit yourself. For now, just retrieve our merchandise and place it into one of the wagons. As for the prisoners, take them over into the woods and allow the rescued women to do as they please.” The city wasn’t much further, it was necessary to remove any unneeded baggage sooner rather than later. “Their lives are not required to collect the bounty. Besides, we have already extracted the information we need, just their heads should do.”

Disgust was clear within the expression Cadeyrn reserved for these scoundrels, men who preyed specifically upon the weak and defenseless. Much of the travelers who made use of the more dangerous forest path to the southern frontier and Temrenos were often poor migrants, those fleeing oppression and violence.

Recently pirates had swarmed the narrows, the sea lane which was the quickest route to the port cities of southern Syroneika. This change in the trading routes had affected the merchants who risked the dangerous land route for a chance at acquiring some of the goods produced in Temrenos.

In turn the bandits who normally preyed upon poor migrants with nothing but the clothes on their backs, had acquired far more wealth than simply the selling of their captives as slaves. All of which he had learned from the bandit leader’s adjutant, including who his boss really was and the one he worked for. However, knowing the truth made little difference, at the moment they still needed to enter the city to off load their excess goods and make some purchases for the road ahead.

The Scholar’s distrust in this “allied” city was well earned, Myrmien was a den of thieves and pirates, even if they were members of the Mercan League of which Temrenos was associated, they were the most untrustworthy of allies. None would be surprised if the bandits turned in to the guard today simply reemerged on the road two weeks from now.

This was a reality that was well known in the region, hence the decision to eliminate the threat. The bandits would never harm another again, it was these men and others like them who had been responsible for the increasing attacks on the immigrants traveling south.

News of the Archon’s ailing health and the disputes between the older and younger sons had exacerbated existing factional disputes within the formerly central authority. An ideal opening for greedy aristocrats and corrupt officials to spread their influence and weaken their competitors without fear of reprisal from the capital.

Not only could a stop in Myrmien be dangerous, but the convoy was also running behind schedule. The twenty or so captives that were rescued from the bandits would need to travel along with them. A couple more wagons would need to be procured here, to avoid overburdening the horses and wagons. With the convoy’s ultimate destination, the capital of the Mercan League, Merlabria; another two weeks or more travel by land.

“My Lord, the task is done. The women were thankful, for allowing them to regain their honor, and revenge for their families.” Maatilani had reemerged from behind a copse of trees, a heavy sack resting across her shoulder. She showed no concern for the crimson liquid seeping through the bottom and dripping down her bronze chest plate.

“Maati, your armor is getting dirty. Hand the sack to someone else and go ahead and rinse off your hands and armor. Use one of the water barrels marked for washing, not the drinking water.” The Hritian warrior woman simply shrugged her shoulders, handing over the sack to a nearby guard and leaving. A few moments after her departure the rest of her group, those that had gone to deal with the captives returned.

Many of the women appeared fine, but they were clearly exhausted. Their demeanor had improved from the night before, but the wounds of their captivity, both physical and emotional were still visible. Even when standing before the Scholar and thanking him, their eyes would not leave the stains on their open palms, red streaks still visible. Walking away the women were shaking, struggling to contain the feelings welling up within them. Yet there were a few whose eyes did not waver, the pain could be seen, but also present was a steel like resolve, whether that could be molded into something more would have to be seen.

Female guards were ordered to escort the carriages transporting the women and children, with the male guards focused on bringing up the rear and leading the frontmost wagons. It was not that the men were a danger but was merely a method to ease the suffering and provide a calmer atmosphere for the emotionally scarred women. Many of whom had suffered greatly in their time of captivity, whether they chose to disembark at the capital, or travel to Temrenos with the rest, those were decisions they now had the freedom to make.

After washing down her armor and removing the bloodstains from her hands and equipment Maatilani took her place at her teacher’s side. Together they prepared the convoy for departure, wrapping up their camp and ensuring the horses were fed, saddled, and hydrated. Mounting her horse, Maatilani took control of the situation, organizing a tighter guard before having the line of wagons set off towards Myrmien.