Chapter 6 Knight
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"Bang!" Elena playfully mimicked the sound of a musket firing, her face breaking into a mischievous grin as she tucked the musket and the two bottles back into the box. The three men, having been the victims of her prank, breathed a collective sigh of relief, well aware of the musket's formidable power. "Hehe," Sean chuckled lightly, then, feeling a bit bored, closed his eyes for a brief nap. Elena, too, curled up with her luggage containing the musket and dozed off.
Gazing at the slumbering maiden, Sean mused, "She'll probably marry a noble of similar rank. Even if she sought a lover, it wouldn't be a commoner like me." With one last look at the sleeping girl, Sean drifted off into sleep. The carriage rocked gently, lulling Sean into a deep slumber. He awoke only when he accidentally bumped against the sideboard, and by then, it was already dark. Grant and the others were nowhere to be seen, and a cacophony of sounds permeated the air outside. Tense, Sean gripped his longbow and an arrow, stealthily slipping out from the back of the carriage. Landing with a roll and quickly standing up, Sean readied his bow, startling the busy people around him. Realizing the situation, Sean sheepishly returned the bow and arrow to the carriage.
Surrounded by walls on three sides, workers of various builds were busily loading and unloading goods. A steward, illuminated by the moonlight, meticulously recorded quantities in a ledger. From a nearby tavern, raucous noises of merriment spilled out. Realizing they had reached a station, Sean ran his fingers through his hair, apologizing to those around him for his earlier rashness, and was met with friendly smiles.
"Sean! Over here," Isef called out, waving from the tavern entrance. "Why didn't you wake me?" "You were sleeping so soundly. Come on, let's eat. It'll be two days before we reach the next town, so we'll need to stock up on bread and wine." "Right, right." Sean nodded as he ate, planning to spend the four silver coins saved from his apprenticeship fees. "After we sell what we've found in Reutlingen, I'll give you your share, Sean," Grant said. "Mine?" Sean asked, looking at Grant. "Yes, yours. You played a crucial role in fending off the attack; it's only fair and part of the mercenary code." "Hehe," Sean smiled at Grant and continued eating, relishing the smoked meat and goose – delicacies not often enjoyed.
"Come on, everyone, let's see who lasts longer, Saxon's Hick or Bavarian's Kolten!" "I bet five silver coins on Hick!" "I'm putting ten on the Bavarian lad!" In the tavern, two mercenaries engaged in an arm-wrestling contest, surrounded by cheering bystanders and eager bettors. "Let's go check it out, Sean; we might make some quick money," Grant suggested excitedly, pulling Sean along to join the fun. However, Elena, who had been in a private booth, emerged. With an upright posture, she nodded gracefully at Sean and his companions before walking away.
Sean noticed Elena carrying the luggage with the musket box and wondered if the gun was again concealed beneath her skirt, as she wouldn't lift it in front of men. Recalling the moment when Elena drew the musket during the ambush, Sean realized he had caught a glimpse of the mysterious forest between her legs. "Hey kid, what are you thinking about? Let's go." Sean's back received a hefty slap from Grant, snapping him out of his reverie. "Ah, young man, you're too naive," Grant commented cryptically before resuming his meal. "Child, some things are better left unthought," Archie, the driver, mumbled as he bit into his oatmeal-soaked black bread. Caught in his daydream, Sean glanced at Isef, who now seemed as solemn as a monk in a monastery, exuding an air of nobility far removed from that of a common mercenary.
Isef, vigilant as an eagle, paid no heed to Sean's gaze, easing some of Sean's embarrassment. Observing Isef's broadsword, Sean contemplated seeking swordsmanship advice in Reutlingen. His own skills, honed by his mercenary father, leaned towards strength and were suited for battlefield combat, lacking in finesse. In style, Sean resembled Grant, a wielder of greatswords, but he had no desire to carry such a cumbersome weapon. "So boring!" Sean yawned and began to eat his oatmeal-dipped black bread. "Sounds like some riders are approaching!" Isef alerted his companions, drawing his broadsword swiftly. Sean readied his longbow, aiming towards
the sound of hoofbeats, while Grant and Archie guarded Elena's carriage.
"Four horses? They're not moving fast," Sean observed. "Yes, put away the longbow; they're likely just travelers and mean us no harm," Isef advised. "Okay." Soon, a knight followed by his entourage rode up. A knight with golden hair on a black horse shone brilliantly in the sunlight, followed by two fully armed squires. Two attendants on foot led a carriage and a spare horse, likely carrying the knight's armor and other equipment.
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