A Deal With the Enemy

Chapter 3

The next few days passed by without much event. Try as they might, no viable opportunities came their way. The only ray of luck that fell their way came on the first day after their initial conversation. The bandits were in a rush to set up camp that night due to a delay earlier in the day when one of the wagons had a problem with its front wheels, requiring an hour or two to fix.

Thus, to make up for time, they began forcing two wagon loads of captives out at one go. Luckily for Rylee and Grey, their wagons were chosen together. When the time came to return, the nimble blond man swiftly entered the wagon behind Grey and remained by his side like a second shadow.

The eager Healer could now begin working on treating his precious patient. Each morning and evening, he carefully chose a selection of dried herbs from different pouches and ground them between two small flat rocks picked up from the desert floor, before mixing them with special oils, and placing the mixture on clean cloth strips, also extracted from a hidden pouch. Always wary of the prying eyes of vigilant guards, Rylee and Grey kept an eye on their captors, making the poultice in secret. Once done, Rylee would carefully tie the poultice onto the soldier's wounded leg with cloth strips.

With treatment, the wound on Grey's leg began to heal at a faster rate. Studying the wound, Rylee surmised it was caused by a long sword. The location of the cut was at the back of the thigh, indicating the assailant attacked from behind. Try as he might, Grey would not budge on his silence on the matter. It made Rylee think that the only reason he was unwilling to share his story was because it was embarrassing. Rylee inwardly gloated as his imagination ran wild, multiple scenarios playing in his mind. Some were plausible although most were designed in his mind to paint Grey in the most unflattering manner.

Grey was silently perplexed at the number of hidden pouches sewn into Rylee's clothes. Herbs, vials of oils, even cloth strips...If only he'd hidden a weapon along with those herbs... Grey sighed inwardly. He openly observed Rylee while he worked, as the naive, unassuming man snickered softly to himself for the umpteenth time, a dopey expression on his face. After spending the past few days together, Grey had a rough understanding of his personality. In his character estimation, the words dreamer, kind-hearted, and optimist seemed to describe the blond man best.

"Hey Rylee, are you sure you don't have any hidden weapons on you? Maybe you missed a pocket."

Rylee was miffed, "I already told you, and I don't." He contemplated for a while, "I do have a few smoke bombs though."

'Smoke bombs. It didn't occur to him to tell me this sooner?!' Grey hid his irritation behind an expressionless face. "May I see them?" Grey asked. Rylee handed over two small glass vials tied together with yarn. One contained a colourless liquid, while the other held fine white powder. "You'll need to break the glass by throwing it with enough force so that the vials will shatter upon contact with the ground. The combination of the powder and liquid creates a white smoke that hangs in the air for a while."

"Can you give them to me?"

"Okay," replied the blond man without question, rummaging around before handing five other sets to Grey. 'And just like that, he gives these valuable items to me. He really is naively trusting', Grey thought, casting a sidelong glance at the other man.

The swaying motion of the wagon had an oddly soothing effect on Rylee. He yawned several times, trying to keep awake, but ultimately, he lost the battle as his eyes slowly blinked a few times before shutting. His body almost slumped forward but Grey caught him, gently leaning Rylee's body against his own side. Unconsciously, Rylee adjusted his head to a more comfortable position on Grey's shoulder. Grey observed him for a second before turning away.