85: Chapter 62 Preparations Before Departure 85: Chapter 62 Preparations Before Departure Days passed in a blur.
Candlelight flickered; in the dim dungeon, Olivia held her breath, covering her mouth and nose, standing still behind Mamor with a long sword in hand.
The war captive knight, shackled in heavy iron chains, could only lie on the ground to write; only his hands were freed at the moment.
Using the candlelight Lokhak held and the light cast from the dungeon’s entrance, the haggard and filthy Mamor picked up a quill and personally recounted the plight of his capture and defeat in a letter to his family.
Soon, three identical letters had been penned.
Azeryan, pinching his nose, picked them up one by one for careful inspection.
After repeatedly verifying, the letters did not only simply inform his family of his safety and urge the gathering of ransom but indeed honestly clarified the ransom’s delivery time, location, and method as required.
In fact, in the years of conflicts and wars among several kingdoms in the north and south, such instances of demanding ransom for the exchange of war captives were numerous, with well-established procedures and precedents.
As long as one did not die on the battlefield, in most cases, the victorious side would not execute a noble captive of significant value; moreover, if a noble of high status were to die, their family might even try to pay a certain amount of money to retrieve the body for burial.
Concerning his potential return home, Mamor would not resort to any tricks.
“How is it?” Leon, enduring the particularly foul smell of the surroundings, asked.
problem.” After reading the letter, Azeryan translated the content into the Felu language and quickly read it aloud to his companions.
Leon, after verifying repeatedly, looked at the captive with a frown before leaving, “Is that all you know about the Felcon Family?”
“What do you expect from a knight born in the south, knowing much about the western coastal affairs?” Mamor answered hoarsely, his voice dry as he licked his dry lips.
not a bookworm; had I not followed the Baron to the north these years…
even the Herald Officer might not introduce the Felcon Family’s emblem to me.”
Hearing his weak response, Leon helplessly put away the letters.
Mamor could recognize the White Bird emblem belonging to the Great Nobles ruling Kantadar Western Port.
But unfortunately, his knowledge was limited to knowing that Earl Felcon was a Great Noble closely related to King Aviout, ruling the exceedingly wealthy city known as Western Port.
Apart from that, he was clueless about everything else.
According to Mamor’s statements, Baron Dawson had no dealings with the nobles of the west, and as an Inner Court Knight responsible solely for charging into battle, how could he know the affairs of noble families thousands of miles away.
Unable to gather more information, Leon put away the letters, Lokhak walked over to Mamor, and harshly re-shackled his hands.
The group swiftly climbed the wooden ladder, leaving the foul-smelling dungeon.
Exiting the warehouse where the war captive was detained, Leon and his two companions supported themselves against the wall, spitting repeatedly, no longer caring about the knightly etiquette Lord Balfe had spoken of.
“I’m sorry, had I known, I wouldn’t have asked you to come down and help,” Leon took in the fresh air, apologetically looking towards the young girl with similarly miserable expressions.
Olivia, pale, forced a smile, “I bring food and water every few days, so I was mentally prepared.”
But clearly, lowering things in a basket while standing above and personally going down to that stinking dungeon presented utterly different experiences in terms of smell.
It took everyone quite a while to recover from the nausea.
There was no choice, at the moment that dungeon was the safest place to keep that captive; otherwise, even in a weakened state, given his martial skills, he remained a danger, and Olivia couldn’t possibly watch him day and night.
Back at the house, Leon went upstairs and sealed the three letters written by the captive, dripping sealing wax, and then, using the personal seal ring confiscated from Mamor’s belongings, he stamped his personal emblem on the envelope.
The reason for having the captive write three letters was Azeryan’s suggestion of multiple safeguards.
In this era, long-distance mail delivery was prone to mishaps; it wasn’t guaranteed to reach its destination 100%, so writing multiple letters and sending them via different routes ensured that at least one would arrive at its endpoint.
Quietly sitting aside, Olivia took the wooden cup that Little Lina handed over.
“Thank you.” She turned her head and smiled gently at Lena.
However, the temperature from the cup’s wall startled Olivia once again.
She looked down at the rim, clearly water, not ale.
Holding the cup, the young woman took a tiny sip with her lips.
The taste of the tepid water felt distinctly odd.
Lena, watching her sister Olivia’s curious expression, leaned in and whispered, “Leon taught us to boil the water before drinking…
Olivia thought for a moment, quietly guessing, “Perhaps, it is to teach you how to brew tea in the future.”
She had heard from her father that some wealthy Noble Masters enjoyed an upscale beverage called tea, which was a fine leaf-like plant from distant Seralir that required hot water to brew.
“It’s not exactly that.” Leon, having finished sealing the envelopes, looked up to explain.
“In Seryan, the Holy Sun Church advocates boiling water, claiming that water purified by the flame is cleaner and reduces the likelihood of illness.
Though aside from affluent families, commoners can hardly afford to burn fuel daily; however, during festivals, we also try to boil and consume water on that day.”