My head swam, as folk came in and out of the backroom of the jail. It has been a few days since the attack, but my vision still is a blur, and I seem to grasp only half of what is said at me. Though once I heard voices and didn't even see the blur of a figure in the room, might have been that I am going mad. Might have been just the poppy milk. Rumors came and went, gossips were had at my bedside. A merchant came into town with nothing to buy or sell. A man stole a chicken, though they never found out who. A Watcher was sleeping with anothers wife. Wish I remembered the names.
The news of the loss of my men at Fenflower farm struck a grievous blow in my heart. Aye, I care for the defense of Bree, but that is not my cause for my hatred for the Southrons. Milly crosses my mind every hour within the day, her smile and sweet laugh. The look of shock plastered on her face when she died. The white knuckles that struggled to keep her torn dress up. Dreams are things of horror as men I've killed come to jeer. Dreams..
A few good men died during the raid, and a few ran away, never to turn up. I wish them a short life, and hope it ends in horror. 'They broke', said Corrben. Words that haunted me, for men of mine to run from the fight. They were outnumbered, and were surprised, I understand the cause to run, but the words still sting. I sold the armour the Blackboars gave me, in order to purchase more shields and axes..We're spread too thin. The hands willing to carry these axes and shields may be in Chetwood.
For a while it was just me preying on them, southrons. But as I killed them I realized how much more I wanted. The raid at Fenflower farm has taught me of things needed to be done. The fights I've had, the men I killed, all lessons. Some perhaps were punishments. Regardless, the men that remain are frothing with anger for the raid, and they support me mostly. They want revenge, and they gave voice that they'd rather be winning. The plot for my life awakened me. My purpose of course is to destroy the Southron brigands, but there is more. There is always more.
Once I am ready for a fight, I will give the Blackwolds my terms, and give them weapons needed to help me fight the Southrons, and in turn, I will guide them to a steady firm path to wealth to eclipse their past. I care not for the blow to my reputation, but these men are of Bree, and perhaps are our salvation. I need to sleep. Ought to kiss the lips of my Milly in dream, as I am robbed so in life.
