Chapter 958: Single, Well-Trained Tent Group

"You are correct," the mercenary leader nodded. "I'm a busy man, Inquisitor. I've other duties to attend to. But take heart, dear friend. With our 'show of force'-- or whatever you'd like to call it, you have my veritable confidence."

Without another word-- and thankfully, another breath, Clayton Smith turned and walked off. 

...Though Jovanus quietly wished for it, the Statesman's flowing red cape did *not* get stuck in the carriage door. 

The carriage departed, horses and all. Several dozen pairs of eyes, two tent groups worth, quietly watched them go... 

The mercenary leader's absence made Jovanus uncomfortable-- almost more than his attendance. 

"What's wrong, Inquisitor?" Dario called as he jogged over, "Is there a problem with the payment?"

Jovanus held out his hand, "Three Imperial feet, Decanus."

Dario's face twisted, his indignation clear, but he kept his distance.