The confirmation of the baron’s wrongdoings came with the bandits’ resounding chant under the clear night sky. Ten minutes later, the bandits concluded their pillaging and plundering, their spoils rich from the town of Attleborough, strategically positioned on the trade route to London.
"Now, we shall depart in silence and make our way swiftly to our base. The guards may arrive soon," the leader declared.
"Ha! As if they could stop us," many bandits chuckled, their confidence brimming.
"We shall blend in with them," Edward whispered to his knights.
They nodded in agreement. Among the approximately 90 bandits, only 10 rode horses, likely the higher-ranking members of the group. Another 10 horses carried the stolen goods, and a dozen wheeled cages held the captive women and children, pulled by at least 30 bandits.
The rest of the bandits formed a protective perimeter on foot, acting as a human shield in case of an ambush. Edward and his knights discreetly joined this group, becoming part of the walking barricade.
"Hey, you!" a bandit on horseback shouted at Edward, who was disguised as one of them.
"Yes, sir," Edward replied promptly.
"Bring me some water quickly!" the bandit ordered.
"Sure, sir," Edward said, turning to one of his fellow knights for spare water. He subtly mixed a minuscule amount of Wymon poison into the water. "Since the poison is highly diluted, it will have its intended effect much later, and according to my calculations, it will take at least an hour before something like that happens," Edward thought to himself as he handed the water to the high-ranking bandit.
The bandit drank the water and carelessly threw the pouch to the ground, expecting Edward to pick it up. Edward, suppressing his anger, silently retrieved the discarded pouch. He knew that showing any sign of rage could jeopardize their mission. With the pouch in hand, he returned to his position among his fellow knights, continuing to march alongside the bandits.
After a grueling half-hour trek through the dense forest, the group arrived at a remote location. Here, several caves stood side by side, their entrances partially obscured by hanging vines. A small lake nearby provided them with a water source, and the presence of animals coming to drink from it meant a source of food.
The plundered goods were unloaded from the horses and stored in the largest of the caves, which had the most spacious entrance. The leader and the higher-ranking bandits made their way into this cave to oversee their ill-gotten gains. Meanwhile, the captive women and children were kept in another cave, while the foot soldiers occupied yet another adjacent cave. A dozen bandits were assigned to guard duty, with shifts changing approximately every hour.
"Hey, you. What's your name?" inquired another bandit, his mask removed to reveal a long beard and gray hair, signs of his age.
"Alvin," replied Edward, maintaining his cover.
"You must be one of the new recruits," the old man remarked, scrutinizing Edward.
"Yes," affirmed Edward.
The old man extended a piece of meat jerky toward Edward, a gesture seemingly aimed at creating a sense of obligation. Edward accepted it, knowing that the man might not live long enough to claim a favor in return.
Shortly after, news spread of one of the higher-ranking bandits suddenly collapsing to the ground. Edward knew that the poison he had administered wasn't lethal, and the bandit would likely recover.
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An hour later, Edward and his men decided it was time to initiate their plan. They split up to survey the entire bandit camp, gathering crucial information to prepare for their next moves.
Edward and Nathan took on guard duty to ensure their comrades could proceed without interruption. Rufus investigated the food supply and storage, John gathered information about the bandits' next target, and Hughes engaged in conversations with the bandits to uncover their motivations for joining the group.
Everyone, except Edward, used their real names, considering they were common names. Edward, on the other hand, retained his alias, aware that his noble-sounding name could raise suspicions about his true identity.
By the following hour, they had all reconvened inside the cave.
"The food storage is located within the captives' cave. Two bandits are assigned to go to the granary each time food is needed. This happens twice a day, for lunch and dinner," reported Rufus.
"Good work, Rufus. Now, we'll have to wait for the right moment. John, what did you find out?" Edward inquired.
"The bandits' next target is the village of Besthorpe, and that's when they plan to leave the barony. After that, they intend to tempt other barons with the riches they've acquired here, using Wymondham as an example," John explained.
"While this could help us identify the traitors among them, we can't let innocent villagers suffer. When is this raid on Besthorpe scheduled, John?" Edward asked.
"It's set for a week from now, sir," replied John.
"Very well. Now, Hughes, your report," Edward prompted.
"Milord, I've discovered that this group originated in York under the leadership of Victor Blanc," Hughes revealed.
"Blanc, a French surname, which suggests he's not a commoner," Rufus commented.
"Indeed, his family arrived with the Normans in the 11th century and ascended to the status of knights," Hughes continued.
"But why did he start a bandit group?" Edward questioned.
"There are conflicting stories. Some claim his family accumulated significant debts, and he fled to escape them, founding this group for survival. Others suggest he wasn't the family heir and was sent to train as a monk but deserted to avoid taking vows," Hughes explained.
"Interesting," Edward mused.
"And why did the other bandits join him?" Edward inquired.
"Most of them are either orphaned at a young age or older men who have lost everything or are burdened with debts," Hughes replied.
"Thank you, Hughes. It's late now; let's rest and regroup tomorrow," Edward suggested.
They all settled onto a pile of hay. It wasn't comfortable, but it was certainly better than the cold ground.
The next morning, it turned out that none of them had the duty to retrieve food from the granary. Nevertheless, Edward wasn't one to waste time. He instructed Rufus to fetch an iron pot, steel, and flint from the bandits' crockery stores. Then, he led Nathan and John away from the base, ensuring that they guard him while brews more Wymon.
For the next four days, Edward continued his alchemical work diligently, refining his skills. By the end of this period, his alchemy had reached level 3.
On the fifth day, Edward was finally assigned the task of retrieving grains for the group's food. He was teamed up with another bandit, a young lad not older than sixteen, similar in height to Edward, with brown hair and a lean frame.
As they entered the granary, one of them had the grim task of feeding the captives. The sight was heart-wrenching. Several had succumbed to starvation, and each day, half a dozen women were chosen to be sent to the main cave. Only one or two of them managed to survive this cruel ordeal. Those who did survive the week were destined to be sold to slave traders, who would transport them to foreign lands, where they hoped for better prices.
This harsh reality weighed heavily on Edward's heart. He managed to convince his young partner to take care of feeding the captives, although what they did could hardly be called care. They tossed raw meat into the enclosure, leaving it to the captives to fight over and determine their own survival.
When the boy went off to carry out the grim feeding task, Edward seized the opportunity. He carefully emptied three pouches of wymon into a portion of the grains and mixed it thoroughly to avoid arousing suspicion. Hiding the poisoned pouches within his clothing, he then proceeded to mix the contaminated grains with the rest of the sack, all while appearing like any other worker.
Afterward, they headed to the communal kitchen where a large pot simmered over an open fire, preparing stew for the group. They deposited their sacks of grain and returned to their respective subgroups. Edward rejoined his fellow knights, a subtle victorious smile curling at the corner of his lips as he showed a sign of victory with his hand.