Chapter 362: Meeting again
The first group, composed of women, children, and the injured, departed swiftly, disappearing into the thickening mist of the early day. Amnon lingered only a moment, his arm steady beneath Atalia’s weight, his face marked with quiet turmoil. He turned, locking eyes with General Odin and the other commanders one last time.
"Don’t worry. We can handle it here," the general assured him, his voice low but firm. "Your family and the others, they need you more now."
A quiet nod was all Amnon gave in reply, but a visible shift passed through him, like a burden lifting. Without another word, he turned and guided Atalia and their daughter southwest, the weight of his duty now focused on the ones dearest to him.
They were making their way across the northern slope of Mount Hainai, a vast, sprawling mountain that stretched across several towns. It was not very tall, but its breadth made it formidable—a natural barrier and a reluctant guide on their journey.
Percival stayed close to the children, a watchful guardian.
Ahead, Alaric, Lara, and Aramis moved silently, clearing a safe path through underbrush and forest for the women and little ones who followed. Behind them, Jetrhu, Orion, and Redon worked methodically to obscure their trail, throwing off any pursuers who might be tracking them.
After several hours, hunger forced them to stop. The women and children gathered beneath a big tree to eat a meager lunch, mostly wild fruits and a few sweets Lara had packed. No one dared to cook or hunt; the scent of fire and flesh would draw the Northem soldiers who pursued them like wolves to blood.
Soon, Layka and ten-year-old Yohana, Zeeta’s daughter, quietly asked to be excused to relieve themselves. Agilus volunteered to escort them, his hand already on the hilt of his short blade. After scouting a safe spot and confirming the area was clear, he gave them privacy and stepped away a short distance to relieve himself as well.
The moment Layka and Yohana were done cleaning themselves and pulled up their undergarments, rough, calloused hands clamped over their mouths, yanking them back behind a bush.
Gaspar, a filthy, wild-eyed man with yellowed teeth and a jagged scar down his cheek, grinned as he pulled Yohana roughly. Rusto, his companion—shorter, broader, but no less dangerous—looked around nervously.
"Rusto," hissed a brutish voice. "We’re lucky today. These two are worth a fortune," Gaspar chuckled. "Pretty faces. They’ll fetch top price."