Chapter 66: Meeting The Merchant Again
Near the site, a formation of Dreadclaws trained relentlessly, their fur damp with sweat. Clad in padded gambesons and toughened leather breastplates strapped tightly over their chiseled frames, they sparred and drilled with the vigor of wolves. Each shout and clash echoed discipline, preparing them for wars to come.
Kaelor turned his gaze forward.
In the distance, near the gentle slope that led to the outer gate, five wagons stood arranged in a line. Guarding them was a unit of Bloodstone Archers, silent and composed.
They wore black breastplates and vambraces, their hoods casting shadows over their stoic faces. Thick furs padded their shoulders, the only comfort against the early morning chill. Unlike the others, they had no gambesons. Phlip and his aids had devoted all their efforts to outfitting the frontline Guardsmen.
Yet the archers were not lacking. Each held a longbow taller than a child, their quivers heavy with bone-tipped arrows. Curved daggers, also fashioned from bone, hung from their belts. Steel was gone. Every ingot had been used. But that would soon change.
Kaelor’s mission today was more than trade, it was expansion. The wagons were heavy with wealth: one hundred sacks of finely milled Starlight Rice, just a portion of the two hundred and fifty harvested. Ten sacks of Eonwheat, as precious than gold. Ten gallons of fragrant honey. And a pouch of three hundred and fifty gold coins.
All for one purpose.
It was time to acquire more slaves.
And iron.
He walked straight to the convoy, his strides wide. As he passed the ranks of Bloodstone Archers, he offered them a curt nod, acknowledgment, respect, and silent command all in one. Their eyes followed him, alert and reverent.