The executioner - A small moment of silence

A small moment of silence fell over the forest, and then Milow burst into laughter. Thorn and Ben also started laughing, and Dom succumbed to the moment.

"Good grief! What the hell, and what's the other horse's name, wizard?" Milow asked, trying to speak clearly amidst his laughter.

Still laughing, Dom looked into the animal's eyes, which simply responded, "Onward." Once again, Dom's response was met with amusement. After all, what were the chances of guessing the names of two unknown horses?

"It's not possible," Thorn pointed out, displaying his yellow yet intact teeth. "You already knew their names!"

"I can assure you I didn't. It's a gift, not a curse. I'm not a monster," Dom said calmly, finishing his laughter.

Gradually, the mood returned to normal. That word, "wizard," held a very strong meaning for the residents of Ard Taj. Witches had always been accused of being responsible for the most gruesome deaths and unimaginably dark and sinister rituals. "Grief enters the house alongside a wizard," was a common saying.

"Anyway," Ben, the old guide, mused, "I'm glad you're on our side."

"It's not our enemy, after all," Thorn spat into the grass.

Nearby, Mice's armor reflected the sun as it bathed him, emerging from the trees.

"What's all this noise? I couldn't finish!"

"Here!" Ben tossed an apple to the young man. Mice couldn't have been more than 25 years old. A swing of Dom's axe would be enough to split the lad in two. The guardsman was so clumsy that he had to let go of his spear to try to catch the apple in mid-air with both hands. He failed. His spear fell to the right, and the apple bounced off his arms and rolled to the left. Mice strained to lean down with his armor and pick it up from the ground, then made the same effort with the spear.

Thorn and Milow exchanged a glance before returning to circling the cart.

"We were just getting to know each other, lad!" Ben stated with a smile. The old man's teeth were well taken care of, a very light shade.

"I'm not just any lad, guide, you'd do well to remember that!"

"Enough of this, soldier!" Milow shouted nearby.

Mice took a bite of the apple and chewed in silence, glaring at the executioner he was instructed to transport and protect under the sun.

Dom leaned against a tree and watched the guide fill a basin with water and give it to the horses. Thanks to the apple, Dom wasn't thirsty.

"I think we should be off," Mice had finished eating the apple. Dom and the others nodded in agreement and headed for the cart.

Before getting in, Ferradura looked at Dom and asked, "How is this possible?"

"You'll know soon, my friend."