The Lonely Warrior Queen

{Chapter 97}

Eustice's POV:

The days went by pleasantly enough. I and others managed to collect information. People spoke about something that had been stirring up at the frontier but as mercenaries were not allowed to enter specific areas, we had no clue.

But these days weren't just spent in mindless roaming. I happened to make an acquaintance with Gillian, the young boy I met nearly a week ago. He opened up more about his life and how he despised staying here but had no choice. Security was strict and there was no chance of escaping. But I didn't tell him much, still keeping my cards to myself.

My other companions were fine, except that Aaron had gotten into a fight while being drunk and Desmond had to pull him off of the other person. Since small feuds were common in this environment, it wasn't much of a deal. Aaron was winning while we managed to stop him.

I was returning from the nightly meal, a nasty experience. These were the times that I severely ached for my wife's meals. She wasn't a talent from birth but her food was far better than the half-baked bread and soup they provided here. Gillian skipped his meals altogether.

I walked across tents and counted the row I belonged to. My fellow companions who slept in the same tent as me wouldn't have reached the beds this early. This was perhaps the best and only part of these lands that I liked. Everyone showed no punctuality and I had the time to either practice my skills or just spend time alone. These were also the times I and the others communicated our findings.

The half-moon shone dimly over my head as my boots stomped onto the grass. As I reached my tent and opened the flap, I was met with a ghastly scene, causing me to be rooted to the spot.

The space was lit with two lanterns and filled with at least six people. Some were familiar and others were faces I hadn't seen before. Both Desmond and Aaron were on the ground, kneeling. My nerves were tingling as I stared, transfixed.

"So you're the third one, am I right?"

The voice belonged to the one sitting on one of the beds. He wore casual apparel and was watching me curiously. Before I could respond, someone kicked me from the back. And it hurt. A lot.

"Gentle, Craig," the same voice spoke. "They're not enemies until they're proven so,"

The first thing that I did was not attempt to get up but to glance at the other two. Both of them were watching me with panic in their eyes. But none of them looked beaten or interrogated.

"Jon here was wondering why three completely unrelated people met so often," the same voice once again echoed through the tent.

I quickly looked around the tent and counted the potential fighters. All of them did look capable of killing the three of us. There wasn't a chance that we could beat them.

"Making friends is now forbidden?" I raised my voice, keeping my head cool.

The man laughed before shaking his head. "That's the only thing left to do at this damned place."

For some reason, his tone showed a difference. I blinked a few times before quickly trying to get to my feet but strong hands held me to the ground.

"What do you want!?" I shouted. They weren't here for supplies. They either had some other reason or knew the truth about me and the others. Were they under the orders of the enemy? My brain was rolling like a wheel but one thing was clear as water; they weren't going to get anything out of me.

"No one is going to harm you three," the man spoke. "Just say who sent you and we all will be friends,"

"What makes you think that we know each other?" I scoffed, looking at the other two. "We just happened to meet when we came to camp,"