Return of the General's Daughter-Chapter 220: The Journey: Danger of the Night

As the sun slowly rose from the east, casting a warm glow over the dusty streets, the Norse’s three carriages approached the town gate. At that same moment, a grander and more ominous sight loomed from the opposite street— the full procession of Prince Alaric thundered into view. Ten carriages in total, flanked by mounted guards in polished armor, gleamed with a cold authority. But two of those carriages drew uneasy glances. Their thick, windowless walls and reinforced frames were unmistakable: prison transports. Inside, shamed and shackled, sat the once-powerful elites of Calma.

Alaric brought most of his soldiers with him. The fragile peace in Calma was left in the hands of Angus and Primo Lenard, while administrative duties were temporarily passed to Baron Yanez — a peace-loving man with fewer enemies.

This decision came after a bitter dispute with Reuben, who had suggested Earl Donaldton for the mayoral role. Alaric had rejected the idea outright.

Their argument had been sharp, the air between them crackling with tension. In the end, Alaric said in a steely voice. "Fine. If you’re eager to share the fate of the last magistrate, be my guest — take the seat."

Donald paled. The previous magistrate’s fate was infamous: castrated by one of the many women he had wronged. With a trembling voice, he turned to Prince Reuben. "Let Baron Yanez handle the town. I have... other matters to attend to in my jurisdiction."

The man’s bald scalp glistened with sweat. Who knew if the women he toyed with in the other towns would come and report him to the magistrate? The current magistrate was Alaric’s man, and he still cherished his manhood.

...

The caravan left the town gate of Calma that morning, the Norse siblings’ carriages positioned among the vanguard. Alaric’s elite soldiers guarded both front and rear, a steel-clad wall around the human cargo in the middle. The prisoners, subdued and silent, rode under heavy watch.

By midday, they reached the dusty town of Ranuva. The heat was oppressive, and the travelers gratefully disembarked for a hasty meal and brief respite. After just an hour, the caravan resumed its march, eventually arriving at Laiya under a canopy of stars.

There, the Norse brothers secured two modest rooms in the town’s only inn. Alaric, with his higher rank, took the remaining three. With no more space inside, the soldiers and prisoners pitched camp on the hard ground outside.

Because there were only two rooms, Sandoz stayed with Lara and Reya and it made him happy.

The travelling group retired early as they were set to leave at the first crack of dawn.

But as the inn grew still, the night brought trouble.

Deep in the silent hours of the night, both Reya and Sandoz woke with cramping stomachs. Clutching their bellies, they stumbled outside, heading for the outhouses behind the inn — only to find a long, groaning queue of Alaric’s soldiers and other guests.

"Sister, I can’t hold it anymore." Sandoz, who was sometimes squirming, sometimes crossing his legs, and holding his buttocks with both hands, whispered desperately.

Reya must have laughed at him, but unfortunately, she was in the same predicament.

"Follow me, we can do it over there." She pointed to a shrubbery just behind the inn. "It’s darker there — no one will see."

The grass behind the inn rustled as Reya led the way, weaving through half-dead bushes and uneven ground. The light from the inn’s lanterns faded behind them, swallowed by shadows and the stillness of the sleeping town. Crickets chirped in the distance, their rhythm broken only by Sandoz’s frantic breathing.

"Here!" Reya whispered, pointing to a cluster of tangled shrubs. "It’s far enough."

Sandoz didn’t respond — he had already yanked his trousers down and squatted like his life depended on it.

Lara, who was left in the room, was restless. A sense of foreboding settled over her. She secured the knives in their holster attached to her left and right thighs.

She quickly fastened a leather belt that Lina had customized for her. It had small pockets that let her carry two more knives and the sheath of a sword dangling at her back. It also had holders for small arrows with a lead tip, the equivalent of the dart.

She was about to open the door when Reya’s scream pierced the air.

"No! Sandoz!"

Lara did not bother with the door anymore as she needed to go around the inn to reach the direction from which Reya’s voice came. She jumped out of the window and ran to where the scream came.

Reya, who had just pulled up her underwear, wanted to run after Sandoz. She forgot the messy and smelly thing Sandoz had dumped on the ground and stepped on it.

"Ughh!" She groaned in despair.

"Go back to the inn and alert the others." Then Lara was swallowed by the darkness.

The moon in the sky was a crescent, and the few torches surrounding the inn could only illuminate a limited area.

Lara could not see anything at first, but it did not take her long to adjust her vision. When she did, she saw a man carrying something like a sack over his shoulders, following a small trail.

He was running to the west, and Lara followed after him. When the distance was just right, she threw a dart in the air, aiming at his right leg.

The man stumbled, and the sack he carried fell to the ground. When the man realized his injury was from an arrow, he looked around. But of course, how could he see when it was too dark?

The man rose from the ground. Lara thought he would pick up the sack again, so she readied another dart.

But to her surprise, the man took off, not minding the shrubs that must have scratched him as he escaped. ƒгeewёbnovel.com

Lara quickly approached the squirming sack and untied the rope with one swift motion of her knife.

"Sandoz, are you alright?" She asked worriedly as she removed the gag from his mouth.

"Sis, I am so scared." He sobbed and hugged Lara’s thigh. "I have just finished relieving myself when someone caught me and placed me inside a sack." He was crying so hard that Lara almost did not understand his muffled voice.

Lara carried Sandoz. He was still a boy after all, a seven-year-old child.

"It’s alright. I got you," she said, hugging the trembling boy. "Let’s go back."

Lara frowned as she retraced her steps. Something was wrong. Shouldn’t her brothers have already come after her?