Jeanne took point as the other rode shortly behind her. Their weapons were sheathed, but their hands rested firmly on them, ready to be used at a moment’s notice. Jeanne felt fortunate she was far enough from the body to no longer smell the horrible scent of the decomposing flesh. She felt terrible feeling thankful for such graces, but the difficulty placing Prdywen’s remains onto a blanket began to where on her patience after a short amount of time.
She turned back, watching the others move up the road. Jeanne let out a heavy sigh before turn back forward. Looking over the landscape before them, she tried to let the beauty of the region take her mind away from the morbid task at hand. Even if it was for a brief moment.
The ground began sinking soft, with hedge growing from the ground to form boundaries around the farming dotting the countryside beside them. Seas of wheat, barley and hay swished and swayed to the wind, the soft rustling reminding her of the warm summer of her youth. With the warm sun lifting her spirits with whims of adventure and the setting of the forest to fuel her desire to explore the unknown places of the world.
The thin pillars of smoke rising above the hedgerows stretched up to touch the blue heavens above them. She sniffed the air and caught no scent pungent smoke or the faint whisps of screams touching her ears. Jeanne turned back to Maeryn, Gabriel and Cid, all three of them sitting contently in their saddles and betraying no signs of concern on their faces.
Jeanne slowly let out a sigh of relief, giving herself a moment to think such destruction back in Sunnybrooke may have passed over the hamlet of Baerney. Arriving to a farmhouse built into the side of a low rising hill, a simple rail fence outlining The Wolves found a farmer sitting on a stool next to a cow, milking the animal as his son and daughter stood nearby. “Firstly,” the farmer said, “you’ll want to strip the udders around three to four times before actually milking them.”
“Why pa?” the daughter asked.
“There might be dirt or other little things that can rest on the tip, so you don’t want that getting into the milk you’ll drink.”
“What do you do after that, pa?” the son asked.
The father adjusted his stool, moving a bit closer to the heifer, placing a wooden bucket underneath the udders and gripping two of them between his thumb and first finger. “That’s when you place two quarters in your hand and then you squeeze and pull down.” As he finished, the father pulled down and milk began coming out and filling up the bucket.
“I’ve never actually seen someone do that before,” Silvius said to the others as they moved towards the rail fence.
“It starts to lose its luster after the fiftieth heifer,” Jeanne said reaching the fence.
The father and children spotted them, the daughter pointing to the group. “Papa!” she said to him.
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“Why don’t you go see if your mother needs anything,” the father before gently shooing them towards the house, his gaze trained onto the riders. “Can I help you with something?”
“Greetings,” Cid said to the man, bowing his head forward. “We were hoping to speak with whoever the leader is. We found the body of a man on the side of the road and wanted to ensure he was given proper rites.”
“Oh,” the farmer exclaimed, “I’m sorry to hear that. This is starting to becoming more frequent in the past months.”
“Is that so?” Kveldulf asked.
The farmer nodded. “Aye, there were two bodies found by Killian Creek about two weeks ago. Poor things were exposed to the elements so long you could barely tell they were once people. And a month before back the Dorran family were all murdered in the middle of night. Ripped to shreds and all their valuables taken.”
“Is the sheriff not trying to find them?” Silvius asked.
The farmer let out a sharp exhale and shook his head. “I don’t know anymore. Half the village doesn’t think much of them and I’m starting to lose what trust I have.”
“I can only imagine,” Cid said. “Still where would we find them or the local reeve?”
“Center of town,” the farmer said, pointing towards the town down the road. “Though if you’re planning on staying the night, I’d be watchful, there’s strange things going on round here.”
“With the murders?” Leonidas asked.
“Aye, them, and there’s been other wild things going on. Animals found with their blood sucked out. Homes burnt down and their owners brutalized. Strange noises, stranger sights, the whole world is going mad.”
“Well, that’s definitely something to be mindful of,” Cid replied. “We’ll keep ourselves alert while we’re here. Hopefully things will be tepid for our stay.”
“Shepherd’s guidance that’s the case,” said the farmer, “but if you don’t mind, I need to get back to a few errands round the farm.”
“Of course,” Cid said, bow his head forward once again. “Thank you for your time.”
He waved the rest of The Wolves to follow, riding down a short distance on the road, once the farm was out of sight, before calling the group to a full stop.
“What are your thoughts?” he asked them.
“If I was a betting man this seems to be the work of our men,” said Kveldulf.
“They’re certainly keeping themselves busy between victims,” Jeanne followed.
“Do you think being here will give us away?” Hypatia asked.
“They have to assume someone would go after them after some time,” Benkin answered.
“I think we shouldn’t go out to any place alone,” Silvius said.
“I agree with that entirely,” Cid said. “I want you all in pairs when you’re out.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” said Jeanne.
“And I want that done for the lodgings,” Cid followed, “no reason to give the curs and a reason to catch us by surprise.”
“I doubt that’ll be a problem,” said Maeryn, cutting a quick glance over to Kveldulf. The warrior caught her look and returned the smile.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Jeanne said shaking her head, “get a room.”
“Wow,” Kveldulf replied, “that was almost catty.”
“I’ll show you fucking catty,” Jeanne replied.
“I didn’t think it was catty, at all,” Maeryn replied.
“Thank you,” said Jeanne. “I think Kveldulf is being the catty one.”
“I know,” Maeryn said, “it’s like he enjoys just causing all sorts of gossip and other problems.”
“I think it’s because he’s self-conscious of his foot smells,” Jeanne said.
“They do tend to be aromatic sometimes,” Maeryn said.
“You both know I’m right here,” Kveldulf said.
Maeryn stood up in her saddle to reach the top of his head. “Shh, shnuckems, the adults are talking.”
“The fuck am I seeing?” Cid asked as the three spotted the others staring at them.
“Oh,” Jeanne said, taking in deep breath and nodding slightly. “Forgot we had company.”
Cid blinked several times quickly before shaking his head and turning his horse back towards the town. “I … I think we should go,” waving the rest of The Wolves to follow.