Pathfinder: Sacred Order - Chapter 74
Along the dirt road that curved until it reached a village were two men on top of horses. The horses were large and dark brown, but wore a bit of armor for protection. Clearly not your average steed, but one meant for battle.
The armor was simply a set of silver criniere that protected its head and a croupiere that guarded the horse’s hind quarters. One might think that these two men were off to war, but they were going to the village not that far away.
It took them two days but they finally made it. They only managed this time because it was two of them. If they managed to bring more men then the journey would have taken longer.
Behind the two men was another horse, but this one was not bred to become a warhorse. Instead, it was used for common purposes, such as dragging a carriage – which it was.
You could even see that the muscles on this horse were a bit less compared to the horses the two men were riding.
The carriage was small and wooden, small enough that it would be able to carry a few supplies, nothing more. Except, inside the carriage was something covered up by a wool cloth.
Flies were buzzing around the cloth, attracted to it as if it were something appetizing.
Ten minutes later, both men entered a small village.
This was clearly not the city, the houses were made of wood, and there was a well in the center of the village. The people here wore long clothing made out of wool, with a rope around their waist that worked as a belt.
It was hard to count everyone here because most were in their homes or out back attending to their fields, but if the two men had to estimate they’d guess there were roughly two hundred people living here.
“So, this is the Baron’s territory”
One man said as if he were disappointed in what appeared in front of him.
He looked quite young to be a high ranking soldier or knight. Even the armor he wore was just a metal chest guard.
His companion glanced over to him.
“Be careful with your words Bip, or else not even I can save you.”
Warning the young lad who he called Bip the man urged his horse to walk forward.
This man was different from the younger one, his eyes were dark black almost as if he were emotionless. If you stared in it for long it was like you were looking into a deep dark abyss.
His emotions were hard to read, as his face was stoic not showing how he felt.
Taking another look at him, one could see that he was a full-fledged knight. Someone that was respected and looked up to.
The young man did not say another word and followed behind the older man. He knew that his master said those words for his own good. Even he knew it himself, but he was hoping to get another response out of the man.
The Baron was dead, and his title would be inherited by one of his sons so he should be careful of his words. If they heard him he doubted they would allow him to leave this place alive.
Still, he did not believe that his master would allow them to harm him if the situation actually went that far.
The villagers who were up and about froze as they spotted the two strangers who were armed. This was their first time seeing such a glorious figure in person, so many of them wondered who they were.
Generals? Military Officials? Knight? Templars?
They could be any of those things or more.
Many of them could not help but look at them in awe, but there were a few who were wary of these two strangers.
None of them approached the two, instead, they kept a small distance observing.
The fully armed one came down from his horse as he looked around. He found someone and pointed towards them.
“Where is the Baron’s estate?”
He asked.
“Up there on the hill.”
“And his sons?”
The man looked around at the other villages before he shook his head.
“This I do not know, maybe the mansion?”
Both of the Baron’s sons lived in separate homes, but at times they appeared at the mansion. With the Baron himself out none of the villagers knew where his sons were.
It was not like they needed to know anyways. What nobles did was beyond them. They were just keeping to themselves in hopes of not attracting attention.
The knight nodded his head as he got back on his horse.
Him and his companion headed straight for the mansion on top of the hill.
It was different from the wooden homes, this place was built out of stone and clearly more elegant. The mansion was blocked by a stone wall, but had an open gate.
There was one guard at the entrance who allowed both men to enter once he found out what they were here for.
Upon entering what greeted them was a frail-looking young man dragging a woman by her long black hair. He did not take her far, as he must have gotten tired, but he pulled up on her hair causing her to cry out in pain.
He slapped her face hard, whilst yelling at her to shut up.
When he spotted the two men on horses, he tossed the woman to the side as he pulled out a white cloth to wipe his hands.
As for the woman she was left in a sorry state. Her face bruised and her clothes dirty. She had tears in her eyes and a face full of anger. But, she kept to herself not shouting foul words towards the young man.
“What brings you here to my father’s humble land?”
The frail young man asked the two men as he appeared before them.
“I am Borris, this here is Bip. We come bearing news”
Borris, the older one of the two responded to the frail young man. From his appearance to his behavior, he knew that this was the Baron’s older son.
Lord Frost described him before he left, going as far as stating that his behavior was unbecoming of a noble.
Borris could easily see why.
Nobles had their tempers sure, but they kept it in check most of the time. They had to for appearance’s sake, but this man cared little for that. Beating your subordinates was a common practice for nobles who wanted to show that they were the owner, the top dog in the building. However, beating a young woman to the extent of what the young man has shown was taking it a tad bit too far.
Borris would not say anything about it. Every noble had their own rules.
Still, the young man in front of him really got under his skin for some reason. Borris himself was a noble, but he would never dress so sloppy. The young man wore blue trousers and a white shirt.
There were a few stains that Borris could make out, probably from dragging the woman. His hair was not combed, as if he did not care for his appearance at all. To make it worse, the young man’s shirt was very loose. A size too big for him.
Many nobles had clothes tailored to fit their exact size, but the young man in front of him seemed to care not for appearances at all.
“Well, what is it?”
The frail young man asked slightly annoyed.
Borris motioned with his head towards Bip.
Bip hopped down from his horse towards the carriage. He removed the wool cloth revealing what was underneath.
Baron Cecil’s cold corpse.
When the frail young man saw his father’s lifeless body, Borris could have sworn he saw his lips curl up into a smile. But when he took a closer look, they were in the same position as they were before.
Snapping his fingers, the guard at the gate ran over.
“Take my father’s body to be cleaned, and have Susan dress him appropriately.”
He ordered the guard.
The guard looked at the corpse and gulped before he made his move.
The Baron was dead. This meant that things here would be anything but peaceful in the coming days. Still, he moved as he was ordered to.
There was no crying, no tears in the young man’s eyes. He did not even look sad after seeing his father’s dead body. Instead, he opened his arms as he gazed towards Borris.
“Well, why don’t you two stay? I’m sure there are a few things that need be discussed.”
“We will have to decline your offer lord, we have other matters to attend to that need our attention.”
Inside the mansion, a young man was leaning against the wall but his eyes were focused on the figures on the ground. He could not make out what they were saying, but when he saw the guard carrying a corpse he knew something had happened.
It was not until the young man saw the corpse’s face did he realize that it was his father.
A look of surprise sprung up on his face, but that only lasted for a moment.
‘Sterling no then who?’
