Chapter 44
Within a few minutes, the vault of the bandits was discovered by Michalis, who immediately reported it to Draco.
The group rushed to the location, but it wasn't a true vault, but rather a medium-sized room functioning as a makeshift storage facility.
‘Well, what did I expect from bandits?’ Draco thought, surveying the room.
The room was filled with stacks of Valis, along with various other valuable items, precious metals and gems.
Draco decided to take all the Valis along with the metals and gems, leaving the rest for the city officials to find.
"What about the rest of the items?" Dimitra asked, noticing the remaining objects in the room.
"We will leave it for the city officials to find and help the prisoners that still want to live," Draco replied.
He understood that the city officials might just loot the remaining items for themselves, but he hoped that there might be a sensible individual among them who would use the money to assist the prisoners who had survived.
Draco could see the worry in his siblings' eyes, as they had just witnessed an extremely dark and disturbing part of the world.
So part of the reason he decided to do this, was to appease their minds and assure them that they had done the right thing.
"Thank you," Dimitra muttered, sensing her brother's intentions.
She knew that taking the prisoners with them would be a substantial burden.
The prisoners were in a terrible state, with their limbs cut off, covered in filth, and mentally broken, resembling lifeless dolls.
It was not something the siblings could fix, so it was best to leave them in the hands of the port city officials.
"It's okay, you're just a kind girl," Draco replied, gently patting Dimitra's head and giving her a behind-the-ear rub.
Dimitra wagged her tail in contentment, humming as she carried the last of the valuables they were to take back to the carriage.
Draco closed the room and covered it with a stack of empty boxes before returning to the carriage.
The bandits' bodies were still strewn around, but Draco didn't bother cleaning it up, as that was the responsibility of the city officials.
"Hiyaa!" Draco yelled, urging the horses forward towards the port city.
He wanted to arrive at the city before complete darkness, report to the city's soldiers, and continue their journey.
As he directed the horses, a sudden thought crossed Draco's mind.
‘With the amount of loot the bandits had, they must have been doing this for a long time. The question is, why hasn't the city done anything about them?’ Draco pondered.
It seemed impossible that the city officials would remain unaware of the bandits' activities, which led Draco to a troubling conclusion.
‘It is possible that the bandits are being backed by someone strong, or even worse, by the mayor of the city,’ he pieced together.
‘Shit, if that's the case, we might be framed as criminals by reporting to the city officials. In that case, we shouldn’t enter the city. It would be best finding another route,’ Draco surmised.
"Whoa," Draco said, suddenly stopping the horses in their tracks.
"Everyone, get off the carriage," he instructed his siblings.
Then he began inspecting each of their clothing and the carriage.
"What's wrong, Draco nii?" Nikolaos asked, concerned.
Draco's mind was racing with the implications of his discovery.
If the bandits were indeed backed by someone powerful, they could be in grave danger.
He needed to ensure the safety of his siblings.
Thinking back at the whole scenario, the bandits were awfully weak.
Even more weird was that, they were situated close to a port city, a place where trade was usually the highest.
Passing merchants accompanied by mercenaries or escorts should have long dealt with the situation.
‘Is it possibly a larger organization’ Draco thought.
"We need to be cautious," Draco said, his tone serious.
"The bandits we just dealt with might have been part of a larger organization, and we could be in trouble if we continue our journey as planned." he explained.
Dimitra and the others listened intently, their eyes widening with worry.
Draco explained his suspicions, about the possibility of the bandits being backed by someone influential, and the risk of being framed as criminals.
"We need to be extra vigilant from now on," Draco continued.
"We'll take a different route to Orario, one that's less traveled, and keep a low profile. As for the prisoners we left behind, they will likely be found by tomorrow when someone else passes the area, so don’t worry" he explained.
The siblings nodded in agreement, trusting in Draco's judgment.
They knew their brother was always looking out for their best interests, and they were willing to follow his lead.
“We will need to erase traces of our involvement” Draco said.
Then he urged everyone to change their bloody clothing so he would burn them.
After that was done, he took out a map and quickly found a branching road, leading to the land route he initially planned.
Going to another port city might have been another option but thinking more clearly about things, it wasn’t going to work.
They had many valuable items which would look extremely suspicious after their luggage was inspected.
Even more suspicious was that they were kids, so he could already imagine the amount of trouble that would bring.
There was no way that they wouldn’t be searched before entering any nearby city and even if they managed to enter a city another inspection would be done at the port.
He didn’t know how far and deep the influence of the organization behind the bandits reached, so he wasn’t going to risk it.
As the group settled back into the carriage, Draco took a deep breath, his mind racing with contingency plans and strategies to ensure their safe passage to Orario.
“We will travel through the night on the first planned route” Draco announced.
With that said, he redirected the horse toward a branching path away from the port city.
………………………………………………………………………………………………..
The next day…….
The sun had begun to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the rugged terrain surrounding the port city.
Sergeant Alistair and his patrol of Guardsmen marched steadily toward the bandit encampment, their boots crunching on the snow covered gravel path.
This was a routine excursion for them - collecting the monthly "tribute" due to the city's corrupt mayor.
The mayor had long ago struck a deal with a major bandit clan, allowing them to operate freely in exchange for a hefty cut of their spoils.
Alistair and his men were tasked with ensuring this arrangement remained in place, turning a blind eye to the bandits' activities in return for their share.
As the dilapidated encampment came into view, Alistair raised a fist, signaling his men to halt.
"Alright, you know the drill," he barked.
"Keep your weapons ready but don't draw unless provoked. I'll do the talking." he said.
The Guardsmen fanned out, scanning the perimeter warily.
Alistair strode up to the front main gate and bellowed, "Hail the camp! We've come to collect our tribute!"
Silence. No response.
Alistair's brow furrowed. "That's odd. Where's Vargus? He's usually the first one out to greet us." He gestured to one of his men.
"You, take a squad and investigate. I don't like the look of this." he instructed.
The man and three other guardsmen cautiously approached the gate, weapons at the ready.
Alistair watched tensely as they disappeared inside.
Moments later, the man came running back out, his face pale.
"Sir! Something's wrong - the camp is in disarray, and all the bandits are dead!" he reported, gasping for breath.
Alistair's eyes widened. "Dead? What happened?" he asked.
"I..I'm not sure, sir. It looks like they were attacked - brutally. There are bodies everywhere, and the prisoners..." The guardsman shuddered.
"You'll need to see for yourself." he said.
Exchanging a worried glance with his men, Alistair hurried into the encampment, his boots crunching on the snow.
The scene that greeted him was one of utter carnage.
Bandits lay strewn about, their limbs twisted at unnatural angles, their faces frozen in expressions of terror.
But it was the prisoners that truly horrified Alistair.
Dozens of them were lined up in the central courtyard, their hands and feet mutilated.
Many were still alive, their blank eyes staring vacantly, drool dribbling down their chins.
"Merciful gods..." Alistair breathed, his stomach churning.
He turned to his men, who looked equally shaken.
"Fan out and search the camp. Find any survivors and put them out of their misery. Then gather up whatever coin and valuables you can - we need to report back to the mayor." he instructed.
The Guardsmen hurried to carry out their grim task, their boots crunching on the snow as they moved through the carnage.
Alistair knelt by one of the prisoners, a faint glimmer of recognition in the man's eyes.
"What happened here?" Alistair asked softly, but the man only whimpered in response, tears streaking down his face, his mind clearly broken.
Shaking his head, Alistair rose, stabbed the man in the heart and continued his search, his boots leaving prints in the blood-stained snow flakes.
As he rounded a corner, he spotted a lone figure dragging a mutilated body.
"Hold it right there!" Alistair barked, drawing his sword.
"By order of the mayor, you are under arrest!" he said.
The figure froze, then slowly stood upright, their hands raised.
Alistair's eyes widened as he recognized the disheveled, wild-eyed young woman standing before him.
"Evelyn?" he breathed, his sword wavering.
"What in the seven hells are you doing here?" he questioned.
Evelyn's looked him in the eye, her gaze filled with unbridled hate.
"As you can see, taking back what’s left of my husband." she replied.
Alistair felt a chill run down his spine. "You...did you do this? And why? These men were under the mayor's protection!" he asked.
Evelyn's eyes narrowed. "Protection? Is that what you call it? They mutilated my husband and killed him along with a lot of other innocent people, also leaving my children to starve! The mayor turned a blind eye, and you..." She pointed an accusatory finger at Alistair.
"You were complicit in their crimes!" she yelled with hate.
Alistair opened his mouth to respond, but the words died on his lips.
He knew she was right - he and his men had willfully ignored the bandits' atrocities, more concerned with maintaining their own position than serving justice.
"I...I'm sorry, Evelyn," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"But I can't let you go. You will have to come with me and explain what happened here." he threatened.
He could easily tell by looking more closely that she wasn’t capable of such a feat.
She was also likely the one who brought all the prisoner from within the encampment.
Evelyn's expression hardened upon hearing him.
"Then you leave me no choice." She said, drawing a dagger from her belt, her eyes burning with a cold fury.
Alistair braced himself, his sword raised, but in his heart, he knew he could not bring himself to strike down the woman he had once loved.
As Evelyn charged forward, he squeezed his his sword tightly, while stuck in a dilemma.
Stab !!
The sound of a stab echoed within his ears, and Alistair stood shook on what he had just witnessed.
His sword had pierced Evelyn in the chest.
“A..ah" he wanted to speak but the words couldn’t come out.
Evelyn grabbed his trembling hands and stared directly into his eyes, almost as if looking into the depths of his soul.
“I hope that all you evil men will burn in hell” she whispered, her weight pulling the sword along as she dropped to the ground.
Alistair stood there frozen watching her bleed out until her body lay lifeless on the snow covered ground.