CHAPTER 20 DISSATISFACTION
Garen the his head down and puked out everything within him. He had never seen something as brutal as this. Even when the slaves revolted back then, only a few were killed; moreover, they were killed in just a single strike unlike now, the mercenaries were butchered and even the unarmed merchants were killed.
Not like he hadn't killed anyone before, but never as brutal as this. His body shivered and he unconsciously try to hide himself behind a more well hidden place than this. Even though he had little power now, the mentality of a weak body hasn't disappeard from his mind.
The young boss walked towards the merchant convoy. He had lost good men today and a powerful warrior. If the merchandise isn't something valuable, then he will be in deep trouble.
"Check the carriages. I want t see Wat is Inside." the young boss was in a bad mood and his tone clear showed it.
The bandits that have their hands free, quickly rushed to the carriages and rummaged through it.
After some minutes a cry rang out from one of the bandits who started through the carriages "YOUNG BOSS, IT'S SALT!"
The young man sitting, with face still filled with pain and anger over his loss, jumped up to his feet at the cry of the bandit. He couldn't believe his ears. SALT! IT IS SALT HE SAID! IN THIS BORDER AREA, SALT IS FAR MORE VALUABLE THAN GOLD!
In the entire Roland empire, the amount of place that produce at can be counted on two hands. The empire as fought countless wars just for the sake of salt. The closest salt producing city or salt mine is a month away from this border land. Due to the taxes, rarity, distance and the imperial family having an exclusive production on salt, a small pouch of salt, that wouldn't last a family of 4 for more than four days, would be prized at 10 ROLINS.
Three rolins (Roland empire currency) can buy a well groomed horse. Eight rolins can buy the equipment for a standard warrior and a knight salary from which ever noble he serves is averagely only 200 rolins a month. If the whole carriage can be filled with salt, then who cares about a martial warrior or some bandits. Even if the whole team died, no one will give a f**k instead he will be hailed as an hero. They would easily create a hundred time, if not two hundred times more powerful warrior group. Banditry can go tell hell for all who cares. His father will buy nobility from the court, and they will have their fief.
He might even have a chance to visit the famed Brandil the capital of Roland. The famed city. He will live the life of a rich noble.
As for how such a small caravan can have access to such an amount of salt, that didn't even come across his mind.
"WHERE, WHERE IS THE SALT. HAHAHA SALT, WE'VE MADE IT. WE HAVE STROKE IT RICH." the young man let out a boisterous laugh. He felt I've he his on top of the world and no bad message could spoil his joy.
The young man rushed to the bait who brought this good news, he grabbed the bandits face and planted a kiss on his face. He didn't even care that he is a man.
"where is the salt." the young man couldn't help but ask excitedly. He want nothing more than to hold the gold in his hands right now.
"um boss, you are mistaken, the carriage isn't filled with salt, I just saw some salt stored there." the young man face turned green, and he was brought out of his fantasy. Still, he still didn't hit up. There might be more salt in the carriage. Even if only 20% of the carriage was filled with salt, he would have stroke it rich.
"leave there, let me check it myself." the young man pushed open the carriage door and rummaged through it. He pushed the sack of grains outside and dipped his hands into anything that feels like salt.
As he kept going through the goods, his hearth keep falling slowly and soon reached rock bottom. The whole carriage has been checked and only a 120rollins worth of salt is in the carriage.
That amount of salt can't change anything. It isn't even enough to offset the Loss of they sustained. As for the grain, though whiteriver is close to the border, it's self sustainable and a well developed agricultural city. The price of grain isn't something special. At most, they are worth nothing more than 300rollins. Though 420rollins isn't enough to do something big. It's only enough to offset the loss, without a single profit. If the time it will take to recruit a martial warrior and other normal bandits, it will even be considered as a loss.
The young man's hand shook. He didn't know how he his going to explain himself to his father when he gets back. The people would also be dissatisfied. "pack up let's leave."
"young boss. What is going to happen." the other martial warrior looked at him. Anger was evident in his eyes, the dead bandit was a good friend of him.
"Turin what do you mean." the young boss was sure of what is going on. Turin is dissatisfied with him. The bastard was ready to go against him.
"BARNULD!! YOU ARE THE CAUSE OF THIS! HAD YOU DROP YOUR STUPID DISSATISFACTION WITH OLAUF, GLOVAS WOULDN'T HAVE DIED!!" the man erupted in anger. He referred to him directly. Not bothering about using any honorific.
"TURIN, HOW DARE YOU." Barnuld face was red in anger, he pointed his fingers straight at turin. He truly knows it was his own fault, but he couldn't accept it been pointed at his face. He his after all the son of the boss. He should be given some face.
The other bandits gave them space. They didn't want to be caught among the crossfire. They can't afford to offend any of the two. They are ants compared to this two.
Turin let out a snort out of anger. His eyes were bloodshot. Golvas was a very good friend of his. Had it been another person, he would have fought to death against that person, bit this is the boss son. He can't do anything by show dissatisfaction.
Turin stormed away without looking back. He was breathing heavily and he seem ready to kill.
He didn't bother to think of it any longer. His thoughts wouldn't change anything. He can't stay here and keep deliberating on it. It will take him nowhere.