Chapter 20: Getting supplies (3)

Chapter 20: Getting supplies (3)

The air was crispy and hot, after all they had the desert on their back. And even though now the land was much more greener this did not meant that the climate changed a lot, crispy and hot it was and still is .

Soon the old limping man came back with many young men in tow, carrying sacks of grains and oats, some also carrying urns filled with water. They looked heavy, and the young men struggled a bit as they brought them closer to the group .

Alpheo could see the eyes of the men gazing at his, they knew they were many and armed, if they wanted the entire village on flame, they would do it.

As they neared, the villagers carefully set down their heavy loads on the ground. Alpheo observed them repeating this motion several times until there were four sacks of grain, twelve urns filled with water, and a sack of oats neatly arranged before them.

Alpheo meticulously counted the barter, his mind calculating the value of the goods exchanged for the twenty silveriis. "This is the extent of their offering," he thought, noting that while he could potentially coerce a few more sacks from them using their weapons , it wasn't worth the trouble.There were other villages along the way after all

He nodded to his men, signaling their departure, and motioned for Jarva to accompany him as they approached the old man once more. The tension in the air was palpable as Alpheo turned to Jarva, who translated the old man's words.

"He says he's done his part and asks us to leave as soon as possible," Jarva relayed.

Alpheo offered a small smile. "Tell him we'll be on our way immediately," he instructed. As Jarva conveyed the message, Alpheo reached for his belt, causing the old man to flinch thinking he was taking his steel . However, insted , Alpheo retrieved another pouch of coins and tossed it to the old man.

Clio furrowed his brow in concern. "You feel trouble arising?"

Alpheo sighed, adjusting the straps of his backpack. "No, but I don't want to risk it. It's better if we don't stay in one place for too long," he commented as he feared for pursuers that would never come

"I agree," Clio nodded "Let's get a move on then by tomorrow ."

Soon the night arrived, the rays of the sun giving way to the darkness of the moon.Around the camps many fire were burning , men in circles letting the flames warm their flesh, while on top of it big pots , filled with grains and water, simmering over open flames were left to boil.

The slaves stirred the contents of the pots with wooden spoons, ensuring that the grains cooked evenly and didn't stick to the bottom. The mixture slowly thickened, transforming into a hearty porridge-like substance.

Meanwhile, others tore pieces of bread they had bought from the village, arranging them on makeshift plates.

To the modern man, such a meal may seem lackluster, but to the ex-slaves who were only given hard bread at their master's whim, the soft bread and porridge spread before them seemed like a banquet fit for the gods. Alpheo, with his small frame and wild hair, tore into his food with the voracity of four men, as if he didn't know when he would get to eat again. His companions followed suit, devouring the meal with gusto while also keeping their sharp claws at the ready in case someone tried to steal it from them.

But even in this moment of indulgence, they couldn't let their guard down, always on edge for fear of losing what little they had. For they did not know when fate would pull her hand from them.nove(l)bi(n.)com