[845] – Y03.145 – Thoughts of Family II

[845] – Y03.145 – Thoughts of Family II

Adam caught Jurot’s eyes, noting the expectant eyes within the Iyrman’s eyes. “Let’s assist the Lord and Lady, and get cleaned up first.”

“Okay.”

Landon remained silent. The group hadn’t come across much on the way to Red Oak even though it was noonval. ‘This hunt didn’t go as well as I expected...’ He assisted his wife to the inn, an inn for nobles and those of higher class. The knights followed the nobles inside, while Adam and the others watched them step into the inn, which was made almost entirely of red oak.

‘Damn. I need to get me some red oak...’

“Do you have any ideas for an inn?” Adam thought.

“There are many which will accept us,” Jurot confirmed. “Do you wish for an inn which is considered middle class?”

“Yes, please.”

“Okay.”

The Dawn’s Rest was made of wood too, though not the famous red oak, but it was large enough that it dwarfed any other building nearby. It was almost it’s own little district with how large it was, with a large walled garden, rooms a plenty, and even their own guards which patrolled around the inn.

“I’m afraid we only take particular-,” the guard began, before noting the appearance of the Hope and Rays. The guard, a man in his forties or so who wore breastplate over chain, fell silent, his face contorting with confusion.

Hope Willow smiled towards the guard.

“I’ll call for an attendant to assist you,” the guard said, unsure of what was happening. In the back of his mind he wondered if perhaps this person wasn’t actually a Hope, but the consequences of someone taking the guise of a Hope and their Rays were too grave for any random person willing to do so, not just from the government, but from the divine order, and perhaps even the Divine themselves.Rread latest chapters at novelhall.com

The guard watched as the attendant quickly escorted them away, the young woman eagerly serving the group, who were made up of members of various orders and Iyrmen. ‘If they’re willing to walk around pretending they’re Iyrmen and Hopes and Rays, then there’s no need for us to get ourselves killed...’

“Mister Adam,” Remy called. “We’d love to stay in a place like this, but we’re finally home.”

“Ah, right. We’re about to complete our task, and once it’s done, then you can head home. We’ll stay here for a few days, and you can stay with your families for that time, and you should inform them that the business will probably be escorting them to the business...” Adam paused. “I mean, once it’s confirmed that the shelter of the business... the buildings, are made, we’ll send figures from the business to escort them there.”

“I’ll do just that,” Remy said, fairly certain he understood what Adam was saying.

‘Damn, this journey really has taken a lot out of me.’

The inn was vast within, dozens of tables scattered all around the garden, each filled with merchants and others. They all speaking between one another about various matters, some completing their business with a client, others being wooed by potential clients.

However, as the Hope and Rays stepped within, the discussions fell silent as the figures noticed the newcomers, and recognised them for who they were. Their eyes fell across the Iyrmen and the Hope and Rays, utter bewilderment filling the group, and soon the rumours grew, and were to be spread with a swiftness only matched by the words of Iyrmen.

‘This is a lot of attention,’ Adam thought, noting the gazes falling upon his group. ‘This might end up dangerous.’

‘Good,’ Jurot thought. ‘Look at us and wonder.’

‘How much?’ Adam thought, his ears twitching at the price. He had expected roughly a hundred or so gold, but then he recalled that was the typical going rate of a mediocre inn. ‘I didn’t realise inns could be so expensive...’

“I didn’t expect this much,” Vasera said, grinning wide. “We should work for you more often.”

“If you’re able to afford a night there then you should be able to afford our bread.”

“Speaking of your bread, we’ve had so much trouble on the road. I’d like to buy as much as I can with this.” Adam placed down a gem for ten gold.

“How much trouble have you had that you’re willing to spend this much?”

“We ended up getting into trouble with the Marshal of the East, the Order of Life’s Rose, and the Order of the Thousand Hunts.” Adam pat Jurot’s back. “Jurot here got to clash with the Marshal of the East, Lord Benjamin’s his name, I think. Gravesea? Right?”

“Yes,” Jurot replied, crossing his arms.

“You’ve gotten into trouble with the Order of Life’s Rose?”

“Not that much,” Adam replied. “It was a misunderstanding. They’ve sent a Hope and some Rays with us.”

Pam raised her brow towards the half elf, her eyes full of doubt.

“Adam speaks the truth,” Jurot said.

“Oh?” Pam raised her brows, surprised by Jurot’s words. She, like many within Red Oak, knew the Iyrman’s reputation when it came to truth.

“Even Manager Vonda’s become a Ray now,” Adam said, letting out a soft sigh. “It’s so hard creating gold with these hands of mine.” Adam shook, doing his best not to laugh.

“...”

“That would have killed back in the Greylands Anyway, Jurot here, he’s really hungry. He fought against both the Marshal of the East and the Grand Commander of the Order of the Thousand Hunts.”

Pam’s brows raised even further. “You did?”

“I clashed with them,” Jurot confirmed, puffing out his chest slightly. “I fought them with Phantom.”

“How did that come to pass?”

Adam smiled, allowing Jurot to speak the tale as he picked up the bread and stepped out, offering it to the others. He threw a look to Lucy, and the pair stood near the door, eating their bread from beside the door.

‘What are they doing?’ the Marshal thought, watching the pair as they closed their eyes and ate their bread.

Each of the farmers carried small half sacks of bread, but waited outside, glancing between one another, allowing their Executive to fill his stomach and his heart.

‘Jurot, don’t talk about how your arm felt, damn it, show off about the fight!’ Adam thought.

‘Yeah, that’s right, you should tell her all about how big your delicious arms are,’ Lucy thought, the stress of the year falling away from her body.

“King Merryweather is stronger,” Jurot assured to the baker, who had all but forgotten that Jurot had fought the previous King’s Sword.

‘Is he aiming to become the Chief?’ Pam thought, considering all she knew about the young Iyrman.

Jurot, not like this.