"Me? Take on a whole squad of royal guards?"
"That's madness."
Halbarad rode swiftly along the northern road on the horse the three of them had previously taken from the messenger.
But no matter how far he traveled, he saw no trace of any messengers or royal guards on that road.
This made him breathe a sigh of relief.
At least he wouldn't have to rack his brain figuring out how to deal with a squad of elite guards.
He recalled the discussion they had held earlier.
"Right, the three of us working together to handle the guards escorting the orders is manageable, but asking each person to take on an entire squad alone is definitely pushing our luck."
"How about this, we simply do our best. Even if we can't intercept the military orders, we can at least try to gather some intelligence. That way we'll know what the enemy is planning, instead of stumbling about blind, relying purely on fortune."
That's what the other two had said.
Whinny.
The horse came to a halt just outside the city walls.
To avoid drawing attention from any unfamiliar marks or insignia that might have been on the messenger's mount, Halbarad released the horse before entering the city.
Then, as usual, he covered his face and donned a robe with some local flair, who knew where he got it from, and walked openly into the settlement.
To the average city dweller, his appearance was somewhat conspicuous. Some folk paid him no mind, others avoided him, and still others regarded him with disdain.
A wilderness hunter, a vagrant, a beggar...
Whatever they took him for, no one suspected he was an outsider.
That was already half the battle won.
"This port city built along the Sea of Rhûn, they say every stranger gets lost in its noisy markets and winding alleys."
"That's no lie."
In a narrow alley, Halbarad looked up at the sky.
If only I could fly...
"Those eastern rebels are finished..."
As he was walking, some idle chatter drifting out from a nearby tavern made him pause.
"I saw it myself. Those royal guards from the capital, they went to see the city lord."
Someone, sipping their ale, said, "Just some rebels. Our cavalry will crush them underfoot in no time!"
"The last kingdom that challenged us like this was Rhovanion. And where are they now?"
"You can't even compare the two. At least Rhovanion was a proper kingdom. These rebels, what they've built is no better than a bandit camp..."
Drinking and discussing politics, whether in the West or the East, it was always a popular pastime among the locals.
Clearly these were tavern regulars; even the barkeep joined in, agreeing enthusiastically, and the place was soon buzzing with animated conversation.
But with one newcomer joining in, a jarring voice cut through the chatter.
"I wouldn't be so certain. I heard those traitors have assembled quite the force!"
Halbarad strode boldly into the tavern, putting on the airs of someone with insider knowledge as he offered his contradiction.
"That army's nothing to fear."
Clack!
Immediately, an Easterling man in leather armor slammed his cup down and declared, "Do you know who we've deployed this time? The King's guard, each one's armor is inlaid with gold. And they're led by a captain whose helmet is adorned with genuine auroch horns! A wild hunter like you, even ten of you together couldn't match the captain's sword-arm!"
"I don't believe it."
The 'wild hunter,' whose face remained obscured, was clearly provoked by the comment. He said, "What do you know? I've got some inside information, word is, the rebels have gathered a large host, and they've got a formidable commander..."
"Nonsense!"
Another man cut him off directly, saying, "I think you must've been kicked in the head by a wild ox! We've got the mighty King's guard and the cavalry, led personally by a captain, what do your rebels possess?"
The hunter argued back, clearly agitated. "But I heard they also have a dark sorcerer, terrifying power. He just raises his hand and lightning comes crashing down, felling several men at once!"
"Pfft."
That claim drew mocking laughter from several patrons.
"What rubbish. Another wild tale, where'd you even hear such nonsense?"
"Even if that rumor is true, even if they do have a dark sorcerer, so what? Word is, the capital's been testing a new weapon lately, called 'fire bombs.' Toss one and it sets several people ablaze at once."
"One dark sorcerer is still just one man. But our bomb throwers, we've got hundreds, maybe thousands of them. What can he accomplish against us?"
The hunter muttered weakly, "Fine, say you're right and they can't win in open battle. But couldn't they simply retreat and hold out in a fortress? You think those fire bombs can burn down stone walls?"
"Clearly someone hasn't traveled much or seen the world."
Someone pointed at him indignantly and scolded, "You hunters, when you can't find game in the wild, you come back spinning wild tales just to make yourselves seem important."
"They won't escape."
The hunter tried to argue further, but every sentence was countered by the politically informed tavern patrons. Their responses were well-reasoned, even citing troop movements and where a specific company had gone after leaving the city, including speculation about their mission.
In the end, the hunter was left speechless. The entire tavern had become a chorus of voices against him.
"Right, right, you're all correct."
He quickly fled the tavern, clearly unable to remain a moment longer.
"Ha! At least he knows when he's beaten!"
The tavern-goers clinked their cups together in triumph.
---
In a narrow alley, the moment he left the tavern, Halbarad quickly pulled out parchment and quill, jotting down everything those folk had revealed.
There was no trace of embarrassment on his face.
His first piece of intelligence from this coastal city was now in hand.
Sometimes, when it comes to gathering information, asking directly will get you nothing, people grow suspicious about your motives. But when people freely give up that information, without even realizing it, the credibility tends to be much higher.
"Captain... cavalry... troops that departed through the southern gate... fire bombs that can set men ablaze..."
He wrote it all down and headed deeper into the city.
The larger and wealthier a settlement, the more shadows it usually harbors.
A century of life experience had taught him this: as long as someone is human and has emotions, they also have weaknesses. And more often than not, those weaknesses are universal.
The gold he had scavenged earlier would soon prove useful...
"Can't let those two look down on me."
For a wanderer like him, whether it was lying in wait in uninhabited wilderness or blending into a bustling crowd, it was all routine.
But the same applied to wizards.
---
"Still too late."
At a town on the eastern edge of the Easterling lands, Alatar watched helplessly as a carriage rolled through the city gates. Moments later, he followed.
"Just an old vagrant in tattered robes."
The guards paid little attention to the elderly man who needed a staff just to walk.
But arrogance and negligence... always invite ruin.
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150 = +1 bonus chapter
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100+ Advance chapters!