Chapter 58: Red Dragon and Black Dragon (Part 1)
"Of course, so we're still recruiting. Ser Simon calculated that it takes twelve to sixteen days for the caravan to travel from the fishing village to Whitewalls and back. It's only been ten days since the caravan left the fishing village, so Martha still has time to recruit for us.
Moreover, if they still haven't transported all the treasure this trip, we'll have another twelve to sixteen days to prepare."
"Ser Simon of Darry? You didn't mention him before."
"Ah, that's because he's not on standby with me now. He's returned to Darry. He asked me to notify him before we strike. He can mobilize about thirty men to join the battle.
Though his men are mainly foot soldiers, they're all veteran troops, which is crucial to our infantry line's effectiveness. However, he's demanding thirty percent of the Blackfyre treasure." Wilder said this and decided to take the opportunity to discuss the entire profit distribution with 'Ser Lucien'.
"As for the remainder, I promised ten percent to the three sellsword knights to divide amongst themselves."
"So you kept sixty percent for yourself before I arrived?" Ian looked at Ser Wilder with interest.
"No, the original plan was that Willy and I would each take twenty percent, and the remaining twenty percent would be divided equally among the rest of the Knights' Alliance."
"Those men didn't participate in the operation, yet they receive a share?"
"They participated in most of the previous operations. I didn't inform them of this final one. It wasn't their fault—at least not anyone's fault besides the traitor." Ser Wilder took responsibility upon himself.
"What an honorable leader," Ian remarked. "And you gave me their twenty percent?"
"No, my plan was to divide the remainder between you and us according to the original proportions. After all, according to the distribution agreement when we worked with the Black Falcon Company, we only received fifty percent from the start."
"Isn't that why you insisted on waiting until the Whitewalls ghosts gathered all the treasure before striking? After all, if we raided the abandoned fishing village directly, what you'd receive at this ratio wouldn't be worth the effort you've invested over the past six months." Ian froze mid-step as he finished speaking.
"What did you think of?"
"That wrongness—something I've sensed was amiss several times!" Ian's expression shifted rapidly.
"What is it?"
"Gather the treasure," Ian whispered, then suddenly looked up at Wilder. "If it were you—if you'd found the Blackfyre treasure, and you were certain it needed to be moved to the abandoned fishing village where a ship would retrieve it—what would you do?"
Ser Wilder looked at Ian in confusion.
"I'm talking about what's wrong," Ian said, taking a deep breath and abandoning his attempt to guide Ser Wilder toward the answer. "If I'd found the treasure, I would transport it to the fishing village as quickly as possible.
Of course, the treasure is substantial enough that a caravan with thirty or forty wagons would be too conspicuous. But we could obviously divide it into several caravans for transport. After all, the shorter the timeframe, the less likely we are to be discovered.
In other words, when you're watching the fishing village, you should see caravans constantly arriving and departing."
"No, apart from the initial caravan, no one else has entered the fishing village," Ser Wilder shook his head.
"What does that tell us?"
Ser Wilder looked bewildered.
"It means that's all their manpower!" Ian raised his voice.
"What difference does that make? There were over twenty men in that caravan, and seven at the abandoned fishing village. If they've stationed a dozen or so guards at the treasure site, wouldn't that be exactly the size of the camp we discovered? Close to fifty men?" Wilder still didn't grasp what Ian was driving at.
"Then what have they done with the supplies they've plundered these past months? A mounted bandit company with no fixed encampment—a company you can't even trace—how did they dispose of all their loot?"
"Well, I haven't considered that question." Ser Wilder looked somewhat embarrassed. He glanced back at his good-brother Ser Willy, and seeing equal confusion on his face, his mood inexplicably improved.
"But what does this have to do with the Blackfyre treasure?" Wilder turned back to Ian, hoping for an explanation.
"If the Whitewalls ghosts have consistently disposed of their plunder successfully, then there's only one possibility: they have several accomplices posing as merchants. Whenever they raid, they provide the goods to those false caravans, who then transport the goods away to sell them.
And with these caravans available, would they not use them when they discovered the Blackfyre treasure and prepared to move it? Impossible. They would devote all their resources to transporting the treasure.
In other words, after deploying adequate defenses at the fishing village and the original treasure cache, they should be able to form at least several caravans of the size you witnessed."
"But there's no other caravan at the abandoned fishing village." Ser Wilder chuckled uncertainly.
"Which means these caravans don't exist! The Whitewalls ghosts only have the cavalry who fought against you! They have no other confederates—that's all they have!"
"Then how did they dispose of their plunder?" Ser Wilder felt his thoughts spinning in confusion.
"If they need this much time to transport even this small amount of treasure, how could they possibly handle cargo far greater than that?" Ian asked. "And if they can't dispose of the looted goods, then they must be hoarding them."
"Impossible! There are no deep forests or mountains near Whitewalls. There are only a few sparse woodlands, and the surrounding terrain is flat. There's no way they could have a camp we haven't found!" Ser Wilder said firmly.
Ian glanced at Ser Wilder. "If you hadn't described the abandoned fishing village in such detail, I'd almost suspect you staged this entire affair!"
"Staged?" Wilder was stunned for a moment, then demanded loudly, "You suspect the Whitewalls ghosts are my men?" He had never experienced such an insult in his life. At that moment, he even wondered why he'd restrained himself and not simply challenged Ian to a duel.
"No," Ian shook his head. "I said almost. I mean, I believe in your innocence and honor, Ser Wilder," Ian said, softening his tone considerably.
Ser Wilder's expression improved somewhat.
"Besides," Ian said with his characteristic smile, "after eliminating you as a suspect, I believe the truth has revealed itself."
(End of Chapter)
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