Lull
The veiled woman had had enough and turned to the now almost empty camp. Her eyebrows jumped in surprise as she saw that while she was enjoying herself, three people disappeared.
'Better this way, I don't like them', she shrugged nonchalantly.
The helmis stepped forward and lounged near the campfire, their gazes fixed on the woman as if beckoning her to sit with them. She contemplated the situation and decided to accept the silent invitation.
There were three wooden benches positioned a safe distance from the campfire. To one side, there was a small coffee table with a large metal pot that was steaming, along with scraps of chopped vegetables and meat, and one or another utensil.
It was only when the jarlar rose from their seats that commoners like Zagan and Mara had a chance to sit down to eat. Smelling food as it boiled without taking a bite was the worst kind of torture after a long day without eating.