Under the blazing sun of Norman River Valley, gushing river waters were surging downwards like a stampede of raging oxen.
"Father Carriere, so you’re saying... that there will be people after our forage?"
By the shore of the river, an army of a thousand wandered around; there were soldiers, knights, and priest-like men. There were also a few large ships tied up by the shore. The soldiers were busy, carefully moving grain reserves onto the ship.
One of the commanding officers that was riding on a horse, stared at the flowing river as he asked.
"Of course. There’s someone staring at our troops even now." Next to him, a priest, who was always on horseback, coldly spurted, "The scouts that we’ve met earlier were the best proof."
"And... those here for the forage, are they many?"
"It should not be many. It may even just be one." The priest responded, "I do not wish to speak his name so please do not ask. Just pretend nothing is going on and continue with our journey."