The air was crisp and dry, the desert still lingering a few miles at their backs like something that had not quite finished with them. The land had turned greener, certainly. But the heat had not noticed of the change in scenery.
They were all of them miserable. All except Jarza, who, after a few good meals and as much water as he could hold, looked like a king walking among peasants, having grown up his whole life under the blaze of the sun, the current heat was nothing.
Alpheo envied him that, but said nothing else.
Luckily they were not to stand there much longer. From the heat the old man finally came back, his limp rather more pronounced than before as he carried a urn above his head, leading a column of young men with sacks across their shoulders and carrying, of course, what had been asked for.
Alpheo watched them come, noting the flicker of fear in every pair of eyes that passed him, as if wondering when they would finally decide to make use of it. Nobody had needed to explain the situation to these people.
They understood perfectly well that he and his men could leave this village as a black smear on the hillside by evening, and that nothing in the world stood in the way of it.
So they knew better then give them any reason to.
One by one the villagers set their burdens down in the dirt.
Alpheo counted with meticulous care, weighing in his head what they had received against the silver that had bought it.
It was fair. Fair for his party, at any rate.
He could press them for more. A little steel, a little fear, and another dozen bushels would appear from wherever the rest of it was hidden. But there were other villages waiting along the road ahead, and he wanted something from this one that could not be taken by force.
He gave a brief nod, signalling his men to ready themselves for the march, and motioned for Jarza to come with him.
"He says he's done his part and asks us to go as soon as we can," Jarza translated.
Alpheo offered a small, almost amused smile. "Tell him we share that same wish"
As Jarza relayed it, Alpheo reached for his belt.
The old man stiffened, his breath catching, his fingers twitching toward his robes.
He drew no steel from his belt but instead clenched out a second pouch of coins and tossed it to him.
It fell down onto the sand with the satisfying click of welcomed metal.
"Farzah ay tarka?"
Alpheo did not require the translation.
"Consider it payment for another service," he replied smoothly, stepping in closer. "A simple one, and far easier than hauling grain."
He paused, watching the man's eyes dart about in unease before he continued.
"If anyone comes here asking after us, you will tell them we passed through, that we took supplies by threat, and that you sent us on our way with women to keep us content. Then once they ask where, you will point them east, toward the rising sun." He chuckled to his companion. "Almost poetic, don't you think?"
Jarza hesitated, eyeing the old man sidelong still not translating. "And if he turns on us? He's already holding the silver. What stops him from pointing our hunters straight down our throats and having a laugh about it afterward?"
Alpheo smirked. "We give him something to fear a great deal more than them."
Jarza nodded once and relayed the whole of it.
Alpheo watched the old face work through it in silence. He did not look convinced. Not yet.
He only needed the smallest push.
"Tell him this as well. If anyone does come sniffing, we will say we paid handsomely for the supplies and for the women, and that we paid with their lord's stolen gold." He let that sit a beat. "I'd imagine whatever riders they send our way will be stopping back through here afterward, to discuss the matter properly."
Jarza's grin spread wide as he understood the shape of the game.
They both watched the old man's face go the colour of ash, his body trembling just slightly beneath the robes.
The message had landed exactly where it was aimed.
Satisfied, Alpheo turned away. His men were already gathering themselves.
As he reached them he took up a sack of oats himself and slung it over his shoulder, motioning for the others to do the same. He knew the worth of leading by example, particularly when he would be needing these men long after the danger had passed.
Better not to hand anybody something to throw at me later, he thought, and trudged forward under the weight.
They walked back toward what they had generously agreed to call their sleeping quarters, which amounted to a scattering of tents and whatever supplies had come out of the camp with them.
Alpheo could not help a certain distaste at the sight of it. This was hardly a camp by any standard he had marched past in ten years. No ditch, no palisade, no watch set beyond a few men who happened to be awake. But time was the scarcest thing they owned, and speed was the only weapon they had that nobody could take off them.
They needed to move quickly and quietly, drawing no attention and leaving as little trace of themselves as the ground would allow.
And besides, he thought, setting the sack down, where exactly are we meant to find the timber? And with what? We have no nails. No axes worth the name. Not a single saw among five hundred men.
We are a fellowship of poor bastards.
Almost on cue , Clio came in the picture.
"Hey, Alph." He caught sight of the group coming in and his eyes went straight to what they were carrying. "Looks like the exchange went well enough."
He stepped in and took half the weight of the sack without being asked.
"It did. We have food enough for the march now.''
''You don't sound so happy about it'' Clio muttered
''I'll be a bundle of joy once we are out of here, I don't want to sit dumb and stuck any longer than we have to." Alpheo shifted his grip gratefully, sweat beading at his hairline. "The faster we march out of this miserable country, the sooner we can start building something a man might reasonably call a life."
Clio's brow furrowed as his gaze went back out to the horizon, where a column of riders could appear at any hour of any day from now on.
"You feel something coming?"
Alpheo sighed and tugged his tunic straight. "No. That's rather the point. I'd like us gone before I do. Standing still is how men get found."
"You've been saying that since the oasis."
"And we haven't been found yet, have we." He said pressing the point with a smile. ''Why change what is working?''
Night came soon enough, the last of the sun giving way to a dark that arrived faster than any of them expected.
Fires burned all across the camp, men gathered in circles around them letting the flames put some warmth back into their bones, while above the coals great pots of grain and water sat simmering.
Those given the task of cooking stirred the pots with wooden spoons bought off the village, working the grain so that it cooked evenly and nothing caught on the bottom. The mixture thickened slowly into something close to a porridge.
While they waited, others tore up the bread from the village and laid it out on makeshift plates made of flat stones and folded cloth.
Bread and porridge. That was the whole of it.
To a man who has never gone without, such a supper would look like a punishment. To five hundred former slaves who had been given hard grey bread at their master's whim and nothing else for years, the soft loaves and the steaming pots looked like a banquet laid out for gods.
Alpheo, small-framed and wild-haired, tore into his share with the appetite of four men. None of them knew when they would next eat properly, and good times have never once been built to last. His companions followed him into it with equal enthusiasm, devouring the lot while keeping one hand near their plates throughout.
That caution was not misplaced. There had already been a few incidents of theft around the fires, handled quietly and not gently.
And it was not only about food, though food was where it showed first. It was about everything they now owned, every blanket and boot and bent spoon, each wanted his own piece.
A man who grew up with nothing will fight hardest of all to keep the little he has, and the more they stuck with what they had, the more unhappy they would get.