Dale didn't know what was happening.
But seeing Ser Harwin and Morty hurriedly climbing onto the carts, he swallowed his food whole and scrambled up as well.
The mercenaries stood around the three carts, looking for spaces to catch a ride.
Seeing the crowded group, Matthew frowned deeply and shouted:
"Hurry up, everyone! Don't waste time here."
Then, he looked at Perce and said thoughtfully:
"Put your things on the cart."
Perce nodded.
It seemed he didn't know how to refuse.
After piling the large bundle and the pot onto the cart, Perce stretched his arms and asked:
"My Lord, where are we going?"
Matthew withdrew his gaze from the road ahead, looked at Perce, then back at the road, and finally asked profoundly:
"Hey, do you know where the best ambush spot is after leaving the village?"
Perce scratched his head, pointed north, and said:
"Go north. About two miles out of the village, there's a fork in the road by a hillside. It's covered in trees and grass, easy to hide people."
Matthew immediately cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted to the front:
"Bernarr, come here."
The old man was sitting on the back edge of a cart. Hearing the shout, he jumped down and ran to Matthew.
"What is it?"
Matthew jutted his chin forward and ordered:
"Take Perce and go with Ser Harwin on horseback up ahead. Check for ambushes or good ambush spots."
Bernarr paused for a moment, then clapped his hands and laughed:
"Alright, we'll go right now."
He was happy, or rather excited, moving with quick steps.
Northerners were like that; mention anything related to combat, and their blood boiled.
Perce didn't understand but followed closely behind the old man.
When the two approached Ser Harwin, Harwin looked back at Matthew.
Matthew nodded calmly.
Receiving the signal, Ser Harwin pulled the reins and rode ahead first.
The clatter of hooves drew everyone's attention.
But the two men jogging alongside the horse amused the mercenaries even more.
They laughed non-stop, seeming to enjoy watching the old man make a fool of himself.
Matthew wasn't in the mood. Scanning the tavern one last time, he urged:
"Those in front, move out quickly."
Dale glanced back. Though very displeased, he drove the horse forward.
Two or three mercenaries hadn't managed to squeeze on yet. They fell on their butts and had to chase after the cart shouting.
Amidst laughter, the convoy rolled along the dirt road, moving slowly forward.
Farmers leaning on hoes or against walls on both sides of the road watched them with fervent eyes.
Matthew trailed at the very back, enjoying their envy.
But he wasn't happy.
If more people had joined, maybe he wouldn't need to leave in such a hurry.
In the end, these people just didn't have what it took.
Once the carts left the village, the view opened up.
A large plain connected to small hills, undulating along the direction of the stream.
Matthew looked back occasionally to see if anyone was pursuing.
Only when the village shrank and was completely blocked by a hillside did he breathe a sigh of relief.
"Hopefully, I'm just overly tense."
Matthew looked up at the blue sky and white clouds, hoping no trouble would occur on the road.
There were wounded in the convoy, and he wasn't familiar enough with the others.
He wasn't sure if the team would scatter at the first sign of an attack.
Matthew dared not bet on the mercenaries' capabilities.
With unease in his heart, he crested another low hill.
Below lay the plain, weeds layering over the yellow earth on both sides.
Not far away, a horse was galloping toward them.
In a few blinks, the horse was closer.
Ser Harwin raised his hand, shouting amidst the bumps:
"Hey, I'm back."
Matthew didn't order a halt, so the convoy continued.
Ser Harwin overshot them.
Looking back at Matthew, he curled his lip, reined in the horse, and rode back to the side of the cart.
Riding alongside, he looked ahead, controlling his speed, and said casually:
"Just over the next hill, there's an open wooded area. It's pretty good."
Matthew simply nodded.
Seeing this, Ser Harwin frowned and asked:
"You're still worried?"
Matthew glanced at him sideways and said:
"Of course. My instincts keep telling me to be alert."
Although Ser Harwin wanted to mock him, Matthew's uncanny perception throughout the journey made him shut his mouth.
It even made him look back suspiciously a few times.
The wilderness remained the same; flowers and grass either stood still or swayed in the wind.
After traveling a bit further, Matthew saw the fork in the road Perce mentioned.
Two roads, one narrow and one wide.
The narrow road on the right cut through the woods like a long, curved blade, sandwiching a small section of the forest between it and the wide road on the left.
This patch of woods wasn't large, but the trees were exceptionally dense and lush, standing like a military formation.
Matthew looked left and right but saw no travelers.
After thinking for a moment, he shouted to Ser Harwin:
"Tell Dale to leave all the loot and mercenaries from his cart with me, then speed up and take Ser Davos along the wide road on the left."
Ser Harwin immediately rode forward and ordered Dale bluntly:
"You're too slow. Matthew says leave the mercenaries and that junk behind and move faster."
Dale glared at Harwin, then turned back and cursed loudly:
"Bastards! Get off! Hurry up!"
He was getting impatient.
The mercenaries wanted to linger, but Harwin delivered a few kicks.
Several men were kicked off the cart, rolling on the ground.
They jumped up, glaring at Ser Harwin and surrounding him.
Dale laughed, pushing and kicking the rest of the loot off the cart in a few moves, then snapped the reins and sped ahead.
As he ran, he didn't forget to look back and gloat.
Seeing the situation turn ugly, Ser Harwin drew his longsword and shouted:
"What are you doing? This is an order from the man your boss swore allegiance to. Got a problem? Pick up the loot on the ground first!"
Seeing Harwin was not to be trifled with, the mercenaries grumbled and lowered their heads to work.
However, they weren't stupid.
After picking up the loot, they walked to the side, waiting for the carts behind.
The squeaky wheel gets the grease; they planned to cry to Matthew properly and teach that detestable Ser Harwin a lesson.
Saving him from being disgusting later.
At this moment, Morty caught up. Seeing Dale running further away, he shouted to Harwin:
"What's going on?"
Ser Harwin couldn't be bothered to answer. With a cold face, he rode back.
A moment later, Matthew saw him return with a sour expression and couldn't help asking:
"Did you and Dale fight again?"
Ser Harwin snorted and cursed:
"It's those damn mercenaries of yours. They actually tried to attack me. If it were any other time, I wouldn't let a single one off."
At this juncture, Matthew should have smoothed things over.
But he didn't.
He stared intently at Harwin and said:
"I hope you can treat your own people better. Even if it's just temporarily. You need to know, they are my men now."
Matthew knew Ser Harwin's character well and understood his code of conduct.
Arrogant knights never look down at the dust beneath their feet.
He had to make his stance clear.
Being ambiguous was never what a leader should do.
Ser Harwin stared at Matthew, swaying on the horse's back just like his inner turmoil.
After a long pause, he finally said:
"What if I don't? Are you going to side with mercenaries against me?"
Matthew immediately turned his head, looked him straight in the eye, and asked decisively:
"On what grounds do you question me? They are my men. Are you?"
Looking at the resolute face of the young man before him, Ser Harwin's eyes flickered, and his shoulders slowly slumped.
He understood his situation but feared getting dragged into disaster.
Accompanied by the creaking of the cart, Ser Harwin took a deep breath and smiled bitterly:
"Fine, I understand. But please let me think about it a bit longer."
Whether a forced melon is sweet or not, you only know after tasting it.
Matthew's gaze followed the man on the draft horse closely as he warned in a low voice:
"Then please be quick. I will have more and more warriors by my side."
Ser Harwin didn't respond. He simply clamped his legs around the horse and rode toward the fork in the road first.