The group followed closely behind the guardsman as he led them up a narrow staircase. They reached a wooden walkway that ran the length of the barn's upper level. From here, the entire expanse of the barn spread out beneath them — every animal, stall, and crate laid out under the high, sloping roof. The heat and mingled smells of hay, manure, and livestock had risen to this height, thick in the air but not suffocating.
The group pressed on toward the far end of the walkway and entered a heavy wooden door facing the corridor. Inside the room sat a round man in a deep red chair, his fingers laced together and resting calmly on the desk before him. Behind the chair stood the man with the thick black beard, flanked by four guardsmen positioned at each corner of the room like silent sentinels.
"Ah, welcome!" the round man greeted, his voice warm but carrying an edge.
"I hear you're troublemakers?"
Diomede stepped forward, steady and unwavering.
"No, we aren't troublemakers. Trouble just seems to find us."
A heavy silence filled the room. The guardsman who had led them in quietly exited, the door closing softly behind him.
Clayton and Lily instinctively scanned their surroundings, fingers brushing near weapons, ready for whatever might come next.
Kira edged closer to Diomede, her hand tugging lightly at his cloak—a silent signal. If anything seemed off, she would be ready to warn him.
"Well, that's not what my good friend Mr. Walters has told me," the round man said as he rose from his chair, revealing a large stomach stretching the buttons of his somewhat fancy shirt.
"Let's start over, shall we?" He extended his arm, hand open in invitation. "I'm Mayor Thomas Jolly, and I welcome you to my small slice of heaven."
Diomede scanned the mayor's hand for any sign of enchantment or trickery but found nothing. Kira studied the mayor closely, sensing only a restless energy beneath his calm exterior.
Diomede grasped the mayor's hand firmly and shook it. "I am Sir Eithen, and these are my companions—Eric, Mary, and Susan." The group offered polite gestures of greeting.
"I thought he was your father and she was your daughter?" Mr. Walters asked skeptically.
Diomede shot them a sarcastic glance. "He is, and she is. I never said we were blood."
"No but they were disguised, why?" Mr. Walters said with an inquisitive, stained tone.
"Because Umar isn't known for their hospitality toward those from other territories." Diomede replied.
The two large men shared glares like two bucks, ready to bash heads at the slightest insult.
Mayor Jolly cleared his throat and circled his desk, the floor groaning under each heavy step. "Now then, what's this I hear about your father killing a young girl?"
Diomede crossed his arms, pulling them from beneath his cloak. "I believe the girl was some sort of projection—or worse—created by the being we encountered in Blue Stream."
The mayor exchanged a meaningful look with Mr. Walters.
"I see. Then you wouldn't mind if we sent a rider to collaborate on your story, would you?"
Diomede exchanged a sorrowful glance with Clayton. "Unfortunately, Blue Stream is no more."
The mayor and Mr. Walters shared a silent, grave acknowledgement.
"I see," the mayor said solemnly. "Then it is as we feared." He walked to a tray atop a dark wooden cabinet and poured himself a drink.
"We were worried about what happened because of the light and loud explosive sound we heard that night."
Attention shifted to Mr. Walters, who spoke quietly. "We sent Mr. Layer to investigate, but he brought you all back here."
Diomede smiled faintly. "So that's why your wife was so keen on us speaking with you?"
Mr. Walters nodded. "Yes, but I'd be willing to help y'all if you help us in return."
Diomede glanced at Kira, waiting for her to read the man. She peered into Mr. Walters's aura and detected no hatred or murderous intent—only deep worry for his town and cautious concern.
"He's concerned for us but holds no malice," Kira said quietly.
"So you're going to forget what happened earlier?" Clayton asked bluntly.
Mr. Walters met the young knight's gaze steadily. "No, we won't. But whatever your enemy is, it'd be best if you left immediately."
Clayton broke eye contact and turned away, his mind clouded with worry and doubt. A comforting hand gripped his arm—it was Francisco, who exchanged a thankful look with him before giving a sly wink.
"You make a fair point, my good man," Francisco said with renewed energy, stepping forward to address the room. Mayor Jolly flinched slightly at the loud voice of the Nesfundur.
Diomede rolled his eyes and sighed in mild annoyance. Kira's face softened into a smile at the return of the lively bard she once knew.
"Now, what is it you require of us?" Francisco shouted, hands planted firmly on his hips.
Mr. Walters turned to meet the mayor's gaze. "Okay, we need you to ensure our shipment makes it to Kinga."
Clayton's attention sharpened at the mention of his village's name.
Diomede nodded slowly. "What's the shipment and why?"
Diomede asked bluntly, "What's the shipment, and why the trouble?"
Mr. Walters shifted uncomfortably. "Our shipment is Slumbergus. The Snakes of The Field have been attacking our wagons."
Clayton's eyes widened in shock at the name, but Kira caught his reaction and turned to him. He gave her a quiet look that said simply, later.
Diomede extended his hand. "That sounds straightforward enough. Any payment involved?"
The mayor suddenly coughed loudly on his drink at the very mention of payment.
Mr. Walters met Diomede's hand with a firm grip, shaking it resolutely. "Your free travel and supplies will be enough for the incident you caused today."
Diomede replied. "Fair enough."
Mr. Walters pulled out a piece of paper and quickly scribbled on it. "We'll get the wagon ready, but the horses we have won't make it all the way to Kinga. When you reach Haststad, ask for a man named Marco. If you can't find him for any reason, ask for his son Jacob—they'll provide two Brutusons to get you the rest of the way."
He folded the note and handed it to Diomede.
Diomede nodded, tucking the paper away. "Fair enough. What can you tell me about these snakes?"
"They attack at night and live up to their brutal reputation," Mr. Walters replied grimly. "Those bastards have killed some folks very important to the people here."
The mayor's gaze drifted to his glass, his eyes distant and empty. Kira felt the heavy emotions beneath the surface—a tidal wave of grief and loss threatening to break through.
Diomede's voice was steady. "Understood."
The group turned and left the office, retracing their steps along the walkway. Mr. Walters lingered in the doorway, watching them go.
The mayor's voice broke the silence, heavy with doubt. "Do you think it was wise to involve them in our business?"
Mr. Walters said nothing, only standing still, lost in thought over the choice he had just made.