Beyond the Baron's Territory
Liam's awakening was gradual. His eyes fluttered open, and in the pitch-black of the cave, his enhanced vision pierced through the darkness. Just a few meters away, he could see Primus kneeling, silent and still.
Liam's voice emerged, gravelly from sleep, as he addressed his servant.
"Any signs of movement?" he inquired, his gaze fixed on Primus.
Primus shook his head, his features stoic. "Nothing to report," he replied. "But the sun is about to set."
Liam's footsteps made no sound against the stone floor. As he reached the cave's entrance, the world outside unfolded in a breathtaking display.
The sun, a molten orb, dipped toward the horizon, casting long shadows across the landscape. The sky blazed with hues of burnt orange, crimson, and lavender, as if the heavens themselves were ablaze.
Primus and Solarius joined him, their silhouettes etched against the fading light. From the shelter of the cave, they watched the sun's descent—a moment suspended in time. And as the last sliver of sun vanished beyond the edge of the world, Liam's quiet reverence gave way to practicality.
"Time to move," he announced to Primus and Solarius. Before they departed from the cave, Liam turned to Solarius. He handed him his bow and quiver.
"Do you know how to shoot?" Liam asked, his eyes locking with Solarius's.
"Yes," Solarius replied, his voice firm, betraying no doubt.
With a nod of approval, Liam led the way out of the cave. The cool air of the evening brushed against their faces as they stepped into the twilight. The forest enveloped them, its ancient trees standing sentinel. For hours, they walked in silence, the only sounds the crunch of leaves beneath their boots and the distant call of birds. No other souls crossed their path.
The inky cloak of night deepened as they ventured further, the forest canopy a tangled web that strained the last tendrils of starlight. Shadows danced on the damp earth, amplifying the symphony of nocturnal whispers—the rustle of unseen creatures, the sighing wind, and the distant gurgle of a hidden stream. The gnarled branches of ancient trees clawed at the star-dusted sky, seeming to hold secrets within their bark.
Suddenly, as if the forest itself held its breath, they emerged into a clearing. A dirt path snaked through the center. Liam stepped onto the path, the damp earth yielding softly beneath his feet.
"If we press forward for about ten minutes along the path, we will leave the baron's territory behind," said Primus.
Liam nodded in acknowledgment, his mind already calculating their next steps. Instead of following the path, Liam decided to forge his own way. He steered the group off course, leading them through a tall grass meadow that ran alongside the trail. The grass tickled their legs as they pressed forward. Hours bled into one another. Yet, they encountered no patrols, no sign of another soul.
And then, on the horizon, a vision materialized: a village nestled amid rolling hills. Its thatched roofs peeked through the trees, smoke rising lazily from chimneys. The air carried the scent of wood fires and freshly baked bread.
Primus stepped closer, his eyes scanning the village. "That," he said, "belongs to Count Montalembert. His lands border those of the baron."
Liam squinted, taking in the details—the sturdy stone walls and the well-tended gardens. He stood at a crossroads, his survival hinging on two critical elements: a steady supply of blood and a sanctuary to thrive away from prying eyes.
He turned to Primus. "Does the count regularly visit his villages?" he asked.
Primus shook his head. "No, like most nobles, he merely sends his tax collectors. As long as the taxes are paid, he won't care about this village."
Solarius approached. "What do you intend to do, master?"
Liam pondered. His actions would surely have dramatic consequences for the lives of innocents. No, he clenched his fist, he didn't have the luxury of being sentimental and thinking of others. He had to become stronger; he had to survive.
He clenched his fist. "I will take possession of this village."
They descended the path swiftly, approaching a small house on the outskirts of the village. Liam gestured to Solarius, who took position at the entrance, guarding against any unexpected visitors.
Inside the humble cottage, Liam found a man fast asleep on a straw pallet. His face, etched with lines of weariness, betrayed a life of toil. His hands, calloused and stained, rested on his chest. Despite the grime that clung to his skin, his physique spoke of strength—a farmer, perhaps.
His breathing was steady, oblivious to the danger that now stood over him.
Liam motioned for Primus to join him.
"Awaken, sir," Liam said aloud, his voice low but commanding. The man jolted awake, fear etched across his face. Before he could react, Primus was behind him, pinning him to the bed, rendering him immobile.
"Who are you?" the man stammered.
Liam leaned in, his eyes piercing. "Forgive my impoliteness, but for now, I'll be the one asking questions. First, are there any soldiers in this village?"
"N-no," the man stuttered. "Please, don't kill me…"
"Speak more quietly," Liam cautioned. "You'll alert the entire village. Now, my second question: Is there a leader in this village?"
"Yes, sir," the man replied, his voice trembling.
"Very well," Liam said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "You'll remain silent and lead me quietly to the home of this charming village leader."