As the sun rose, another day began.
In camp, a large pot of vegetable soup simmered with smoked meat. The rich, savory smell drifted through the air, making the five sellswords and the farmers' mouths water.
They couldn't believe their luck—working for such a generous lord who fed them meat every meal and poured good ale to wash it down. This was the life they dreamed about.
Leo sat right there among them, smiling and chatting casually, showing none of the usual noble arrogance or coldness.
Everyone quickly grew to genuinely like the young lord. The whole group laughed and talked freely, the atmosphere warm and relaxed.
Leo took the chance to learn more about Westeros—its people, customs, and daily life—while making no effort to hurry them along.
Two miles away on a hilltop, one of Varyn's men climbed down from a tall tree and reported what he'd seen. "Lord Neo's group still hasn't moved out. Looks like they're still eating."
This was exactly why Leo had chosen open ground to camp—it let the rear group keep watch easily and rush in quickly if anything went wrong.
Varyn nodded at the report without comment.
One of Griff's men grumbled loudly. "Fuck, it's good to work for a noble. They get hot meat soup every day. Meanwhile we're stuck chewing cold, hard bread and barely daring to light a fire at night in case someone spots us."
Varyn shot him a cold look. "Before you got hired, that's exactly how you lived. Think about the silver stags in your pocket and the fat payday waiting when this job's done. That'll buy you plenty of time in the brothels of Flea Bottom."
Before they left the inn, Leo had already paid everyone one day's wages as an advance, which kept morale high.
Griff's man shut his mouth and looked away.
Varyn ordered the lookout back up the tree to keep watching for the bird-call signal. Once Leo's group broke camp, they would follow.
Griff took his two buddies off to piss in private.
"Fuck that arrogant bastard Varyn," Griff's man spat once they were out of earshot. "All he did was lick some young lord's boots and now he thinks he's hot shit!"
Another one chimed in. "I'm telling you, our boss should be running this whole crew. What the hell has Varyn ever done? He's just a loudmouth ass-kisser. That noble kid's blind."
Griff's face darkened with irritation. "Forget it. For the silver, we'll let him strut around a few more days. Once the job's over, we'll teach him a lesson he won't forget."
…
Time slipped to noon. Leo finally gave the order to break camp and get moving. They traveled slowly for a few hours, then—while the sun was still high—picked another open spot and camped for the night again.
The constant stalling annoyed the rear group, but Varyn reminded them: the more time Lord Neo wasted, the more days they got paid for. That quickly turned their grumbling into smiles.
Slow was fine. They were still getting paid.
Might as well enjoy the easy ride.
Leo was deliberately dragging his feet to give the bandits plenty of time to scout and set up their ambush. What he didn't know was that the bandit spy had already sent the message back the night before.
That left the bandit crew suffering. They had lain in wait along the road all day and never saw a single sign of the convoy.
In the afternoon the bandit boss finally sent a fast rider to check. The scout spotted Leo's group camped comfortably by the roadside, eating well.
The scout didn't dare linger. He continued down the Kingsroad until he was out of sight, then doubled back through the woods.
Only after dark did he reach the ambush site and report what he'd seen.
The bandit boss cursed Leo for moving so damn slow. Then he ordered everyone to rest. At this pace, the convoy should reach them the next day.
But the following day, Leo stalled again. He refused to break camp until after noon, complaining it was too hot. Only when the sun had passed its peak did they finally move—and after traveling barely three or four miles, they camped again beside a stream.
The bandits waited another full day for nothing.
By now the whole crew was furious, cursing Leo's name.
Some even started wondering if this fat sheep was actually heading to King's Landing or just out sightseeing.
The entire bandit gang had left their hideout and spent two days swatting mosquitoes. They had to send a few men back to check on the cave in case wild animals or other people stumbled into it.
The boss sent a small group back to the lair and kept the rest in position, hoping the rich lord would finally pass through the next day.
Meanwhile, Leo was starting to wonder why no bandits had shown up yet.
Had the bandit he interrogated lied? Was there no crew of thirty in the area? Had they not planted a spy at the inn after all?
Or had his layered trap actually worked too well? Did they believe the crates only held stones and dirt, and no one suspected his little "treasure digging" trip?
Leo started second-guessing himself. Maybe he had overcomplicated things.
He decided to stop forcing it. He'd head to King's Landing first and figure out another way to level up later.
After all, his real goal was to make a strong impression at the tourney in two months. He needed real combat skill and some levels under his belt to stand out in front of King Robert and the lords.
The night passed quickly. This time Leo figured the bandits probably weren't coming. After breakfast he gave the order to break camp early and pick up the pace toward King's Landing.
By noon, the bandits—who had now waited two full days—finally saw Leo's convoy slowly approaching from a distance.
"Fuck! They're finally here!"
The bandit boss drew the sword at his waist and kicked the men sprawled on the ground around him. "Get your lazy asses up! The fat sheep's coming!"
The exhausted bandits rubbed sleep from their eyes, climbed to their feet, and quickly moved into their pre-set ambush positions. They stared down the slope at the slowly advancing wagons.
When they saw Leo riding a massive snow-white stallion covered in barding, his own ornate armor flashing brilliantly in the sunlight, the bandits grew excited.
Around him were nothing but ordinary farmers who looked completely harmless.
This really was a fat sheep.
"Archers ready!" the bandit boss raised his right hand.
"Loose!"