prynovel Chapter 20 Bandits
Chapter 20 Bandits
The camps surrounding Shipwreck Hill were less an organized community and more a temporary hive driven by greed.
Order was almost nonexistent; fists and swords were the only laws, which gave rise to a distorted, spontaneously formed "market."
Not far from Vell and Daenerys's shabby shack, on a relatively flat gravel ground, a group of people would gather every morning and evening to conduct various shady or barely subsistent transactions.
They sell a wide variety of things:
From rusty weapons, damp and moldy rations, and shoddy tools, to fragments of "antiques" supposedly unearthed from somewhere on the shipwreck hill, "treasure maps" with hastily drawn markings, and even "intelligence" claiming to know the secrets of the Morrison family.
The buyers are even more diverse, including impoverished treasure hunters with a sense of luck, well-equipped and sharp-eyed mercenary squads, smugglers with shifty eyes and suspicious behavior, and even occasionally one or two well-dressed merchants or agents who try their best to conceal their identities.
Will and Daenerys quickly figured out the routine of this makeshift market.
They were penniless, but with his decent physique and the composure he had developed over the past few months, Will occasionally managed to find odd jobs—carrying heavy objects, repairing simple tools, and even running errands to deliver messages.
The pay was meager, usually a few hardened pieces of dark bread, a small bag of beans, or one or two badly worn copper coins.
But at least it allows them to barely have enough to eat and gives them access to various information streams.
Daenerys spent most of her time near the shack, preparing meals with the meager ingredients they had gathered, and keeping a watchful eye on her surroundings.
Occasionally, she would cover most of her face with a headscarf and wander around the edge of the market, listening to people's conversations, learning the local accent and slang, and keeping an eye out for anything that might be useful to them—such as better quality ropes, sharper flint chips, or information about nearby water sources or safe routes.
Shadowflame strictly followed Will's instructions, almost never approaching the camp during the day. Only at night, when most of the campers were drunk or asleep, would it silently glide over and land in the shadows behind the hut to receive the best food that Will and Daenerys had reserved for it.
It would hiss softly, nuzzle Will with its head, and convey through the contract the vague observations of hunting in the mountains and coast during the day, as well as scouting high above the outskirts of Shipwreck Hill.
Will then soothed it with his mind, shared information about the camp, and arranged the time and method for the next contact.
Contract Dragon: Shadowflame.
Status: Young Dragon.
Satiety level: 70%.
Body length: approximately 1.1 meters.
Wingspan: Approximately 2.4 meters.
Intimacy level: 70/100.
Status Note: During independent hunting and scouting, there has been sustained interest in specific areas of Shipwreck Hill.
Shadowflame's attention to Shipwreck Hill caught Will's attention.
Something seemed to be attracting it to that area of strange rocks, not just the scent of prey.
Over the course of a few days, Will gained a deeper understanding of this temporary "society".
Treasure hunters can be roughly divided into several categories:
Organized mercenary groups or expeditions are relatively disciplined, well-equipped, and have clear objectives. They often occupy the best locations in the camp and the "territory" closest to the hill entrance. Scattered speculators swarm around the former like vultures, trying to pick up scraps or gather information. Local or nearby outlaws, thieves, and bankrupts are simply there to try their luck or do some petty theft.
In addition, there were several forces that were clearly not treasure hunters: plainclothes but well-trained spies sent by the governor of Pentos; scholars or wizards who were strangely dressed, carried odd instruments or books, and were as taciturn as ghosts; and even one or two agents who seemed to be from the Iron Treasury of Braavos or other major city-states, who were discreet but had sharp eyes.
Everyone tacitly avoided large-scale conflicts, because everyone knew that the treasure had not yet appeared, and it would be pointless to expend strength prematurely.
But minor conflicts, thefts, and double-crosses happen almost all the time.
In addition to the stench of sweat and greed, the air in the camp was filled with a tense, imminent sense of danger.
That afternoon, Will had just helped a grumpy mercenary leader repair his chipped machete in exchange for half a dried salted fish and two copper coins.
He was about to go to the other end of the market to exchange his copper coins for some beans that could be stored longer when suddenly, a commotion and exclamations came from the edge of the market.
"Bandits! They're from 'Bloody Hoof'!"
"Quick! Pack up! Hide everything!"
The crowd erupted in chaos. Vendors scrambled to gather their goods, customers scattered in panic, and the once bustling market quickly descended into disarray.
Will's heart skipped a beat, and he immediately looked toward the shack where Daenerys was, and saw her nervously peeking out.
He gestured for her to hide, then quickly slipped behind a pile of abandoned wooden crates to observe the situation.
On the gravel slope to the east of the market, dust billowed as more than twenty men riding short, stocky packhorses, wearing haphazard leather armor, and wielding scimitars or spears roared down the slope.
They were clearly familiar with the camp and headed straight for the stalls in the center of the market that looked to have a lot of goods, especially those selling grain, alcohol, and metal tools.
Will had heard of the "Bloody Hoof" bandits in the past couple of days.
They are said to be a ruthless band of bandits who live in the area where Pentos meets these hills. They are swift and cunning, and specialize in robbing caravans and these unprotected temporary settlements.
Clearly, the crowds and supplies gathered at the shipwreck hill became easy prey for them.
The bandits, yelling and screaming, stormed into the still-unresolved market, hacking down two stall owners who tried to resist, and began to plunder indiscriminately.
They had a clear division of labor: some dispersed the crowd and controlled the main roads, while others dismounted and roughly threw the goods they wanted back onto their horses.
Although there were many desperate people among the treasure hunters in the market, most of them were fighting alone at this moment, and were caught off guard by the bandits' ferocity and speed. For a time, no one organized an effective resistance.
Although the mercenary squads gripped their weapons tightly and looked grim, they seemed to be weighing the pros and cons—was it worth fighting this notorious bandit gang for some worthless goods and unfamiliar stall owners?
Will's gaze swept quickly across the area.
He saw the grumpy mercenary leader who had given him the salted fish, his face dark, leading his men slowly back towards his tent area, clearly not intending to interfere.
He saw several elderly people and women who were setting up stalls, clutching their goods that they relied on for survival, their faces filled with despair.
Just then, a bandit spotted a small bag of coarse salt and a few pieces of smoked meat on an old woman's stall—it might be her only remaining stock.
The old woman clung tightly to the bag, crying and pleading. The bandits impatiently kicked her to the ground and reached out to snatch it.
Beside the old woman, a teenager roared, picked up a wooden stick from the ground, and hurled it at the bandits without regard for anything else.
The bandit sneered as he dodged, then slammed the back of his blade into the boy's shoulder, knocking him to the ground. He then raised his knife, seemingly to teach him a lesson.
In a flash, Will moved.
It wasn't because of an overwhelming sense of justice, but because he instantly assessed the situation—although the bandits were fierce, they were few in number and had already dismounted to plunder in different directions, their formation loose.
More importantly, if they succeed easily today and get a taste of success, they may raid the camp more frequently in the future, which would be of no benefit to him and Daenerys, who need to hide here temporarily.
Moreover, that old woman...
Yesterday, he traded the labor he used to help her carry water for a small handful of coarse salt that might be very precious to her.
He had no weapon; all he had at hand was a piece of hardwood mallet he had used to repair the knife and a few heavy pebbles he had used as a shim.
He suddenly sprang out from behind the wooden crate, not rushing towards the bandit with the knife, but charging towards another bandit a few meters away who was facing away from him, tying the stolen cloth onto his horse!
With incredible speed, before the other party could even react, the hardwood mallet in his hand had already smashed hard into the back of his head!
"Bang!" A dull thud. The bandit didn't even utter a sound before collapsing limply to the ground.
Without pausing, Will picked up the scimitar dropped by the bandit and threw it backhand!
The scimitar spun, not aimed at the bandit who had raised his blade, but rather at the mount of another bandit not far to his side, who was grinning maliciously as he used the tip of his blade to pry open the lid of a cargo box!