Chapter 88 - 82: Miss Emma’s Great Adventure

Night fell on the camp.

They had been attacked by the Earl of Chester, but Robert had successfully repelled the assault, capturing many Knights in the process.

To avoid an attack from Earl Hugh of Chester should he gather more forces, Robert had chosen to move the camp.

The stunning effectiveness of the coordinated infantry and cavalry tactics had made him yield. He hadn’t admitted it aloud, but his actions spoke for themselves.

Thus, for this march, he had sought Eric’s help almost immediately.

Eric had replotted their route. However, because Robert’s previous path had deviated so severely from the planned one, finding a village to take shelter in on short notice was difficult.

The men had been marching all day, and on top of that, they had fought a battle against the Earl of Chester’s overwhelming numbers. A forced march through the night was out of the question.

So, they had to settle for the next best thing: Eric found a piece of defensible terrain.

Finally, around midnight, they halted the column by a river.

Their campsite was positioned directly across from the river’s only bridge. If attacked from the other side, they could destroy the bridge, forcing the enemy to wade across.

Conversely, if their scouts reported an approaching enemy, they could use the bridge to cross the river quickly themselves.

By the campfire, despite the long march, the Knights and their Attendants were buzzing with excitement. The Knights were pleased with their spoils of war, while the Attendants were thrilled to have not only seen battle but also to have played a key role.

The group of Attendants who followed Eric were showing off the Armor they had stripped from the Knights to their comrades.

Eric’s Warband had received a larger share of the spoils for their ferocity in battle. Leif was said to have cut down eight unhorsed Knights by himself.

Hessin, who was practically Leif’s apprentice, began to brag. Despite being a Shipwright who hadn’t participated in the battle at all, it didn’t stop him from spinning a yarn.

Eric didn’t join them. He sat by a distant campfire.

He gazed at the crumpled parchment, the dim yellow light casting mottled shadows across its surface, though it wasn’t difficult to read.

’I wonder how that young lady, Emma, is doing.’

"What are you looking at?"

Robert walked over. He recognized the letter.

"Are you worried about the Earl of Hereford?"

"More or less. But there’s no use worrying." Eric stuffed the parchment back into his pocket.

Hereford wasn’t far from London. No matter how slow their progress, they should have arrived by now.

"I have wronged him. If I can win this war, I will certainly grant his son a title."

"Purely out of guilt? You’re certainly generous."

...

「Xialing City」

A light rain pattered on the bluestone bricks, washing away the blood that lingered in the cracks. But if one paid close enough attention, they could still smell the distinct stench of blood in the air.

Less than a week had passed since the massacre.

The once-bustling Xialing City had now grown quiet and desolate.

The people walking the streets were no longer bustling merchants, but groups of soldiers and Mercenaries from various places. They had become the new masters of the city.

Only a few merchants could be seen moving about, and their purpose was to provide services to these soldiers and Mercenaries.

This was work for the bold. After all, at a time like this, there was no pressure from competition. The timid were in the majority.

"That’s enough drinking for today. I still have to go check the west side of the city."

"We’ve been searching for four or five days already. Just go through the motions. We’re Mercenaries, not butlers or nannies. Sit down, sit down, let’s keep drinking."

"But Young Master EDe paid us for a few extra days. We can’t just take the money and not do the work."

"Can’t you be a little smarter, kid? Looking for someone in a massacred city is a fool’s errand to begin with. The woman he’s looking for is probably already lying breathless in some corner, her body starting to rot.

Just tell him that. What’s he going to do? It’s not like he can take back the wages he already paid us."

"That doesn’t seem right."

"What’s not right about it? Didn’t we do his job for him? We spent all this time looking for her."

At a stall in some tavern, a middle-aged soldier was lecturing a younger one with a straight face.

Both were a little drunk, their words slurring slightly.

Around a corner not far from the stall, a pair of eyes was watching them. A moment later, that gaze shifted to the stable nearby.

It was Emma, and her brother, Richard.

After the city fell, they had hidden in a basement, luckily surviving the massacre and the subsequent searches.

But a basement is no place for the living. Although its location was well-hidden and relatively safe, there was no food or water.

It had been five full days since the city fell. Emma herself didn’t know how she had survived them.

Surviving on nothing but her two leather belts, her burps now tasted of leather. That, and the sour, fermented smell of her own sweat, was enough to make her want to vomit.

And on top of it all, she had to drag this little brat, Richard, along.

"Richard, we have to be quiet. In a minute, we’re going to ride away on their horses."

Emma said softly, holding Richard’s head still.

"I’m scared, sister. They’ll kill us." Richard’s voice was tinged with tears; in fact, he had already started to cry.

Just as a sob was about to escape, Emma clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Don’t you dare cry. You cry again, and I’ll leave you here all by yourself. Understand? Nod." Emma frowned, trying to look menacing.

The hand over his mouth tightened, her nails digging into his skin.

The pain made Richard finally hold it in, and he nodded.

Emma breathed a sigh of relief and slowly let go.

Richard immediately gasped for air.

"Sister, your hand stinks," Richard said, making a gagging motion.

"And you smell so sweet!"

Emma flushed with anger and embarrassment, instantly wanting to smack him on the head, but she held back.

This wasn’t the time to teach the little guy a lesson.

Emma tightened her grip on her bow and arrow, drew two arrows, nocked one, and held the other between her ring and pinky fingers.

In truth, having not eaten properly for days, her hands trembled with the slightest exertion. She wasn’t sure if she could hit her target, and she knew she had to hit them in the head.

But she had no other choice.

These two were clearly drunk, unarmored, and there were no other soldiers around.

This was the best chance she was going to get.

"Richard, if I fail, I want you to run in the other direction."

The words had barely left her mouth when Emma realized how pointless they were. Timid Richard would definitely be the first to flee if he saw her fail.

Never mind. It didn’t matter anymore.