Ch 66

  Seeing the reactions of the seven women—barely freed from their chains—Matt nearly wanted to run and leave them to their own devices. Instead of the excitement or determined resolve he had expected, two were barely holding back their tears, one stared in sheer disbelief, and two fumbled awkwardly as they attempted to comfort the others. Fortunately, the remaining two, including the woman he had been speaking with, seemed to have mustered enough resolve to face what lay ahead as she addressed him.

  "So, what’s the plan?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly yet firm.

  "I don’t have one. What do you seven need?" Matt replied, scanning their haunted eyes.

  "That’s one loaded question," one of them shot back bitterly. "These bastards only see us as whores, just because to them our clothes are skimpy because they show more than just our eyes."

  "Then how are there any women left in their ranks at all?" Matt pressed.

  "I believe there were two groups," said another woman, stepping forward. "Name’s Constance, by the way. And what about you—mind if I get a closer look?"

  "What do you mean two groups?" asked Matt, concern laced in his voice.

  "When my group first encountered theirs, they were a mix of men and women," Constance explained with a shaky breath. "But when the attackers came, none of the women we had spoken with were around. It was just a horde of men who slaughtered everyone except for me and then dumped me here. From what the others have said, it seems they did the same for them—choosing only the uninjured women. Some even traded a chance at freedom in this place for the awful fate of becoming a slave bride."

  "That’s just wrong," Matt muttered, his voice heavy with disgust.

  "At least it prevented them from touching the rest of us," Constance added quietly.

  "Then they didn’t," Matt began to protest, but quickly reconsidered. "Never mind. Can you tell me what happened to your pants, socks, and shoes?"

  "Add all of our clothes to that list," retorted the first woman sharply. "These are only rags thrown at us after they stripped away anything they deemed valuable for their own use."

  At that moment, Matt recalled when his group had discovered remains scattered about, with barely any usable clothing or gear left behind. While he understood the logic of scavenging useful items from the dead, stripping these women clean was a line he wouldn’t let himself cross. In that realization, his next decision became clear.

  "Then our first goal should be to get you all at least some pants and shoes," Matt said firmly.

  "No," Constance interrupted. "We need something to wrap over our feet, enough to let us run. Anything more is too risky."

  Taking in her words, Matt’s thoughts shifted to the assorted loot he had gathered from the goblin king’s former home. He rifled through his spatial storage—a chaotic jumble of items—and discovered a stack of tablecloths shoved into a pile near an edge. Producing them almost as if by magic, he held them up. The gathered women gasped in astonishment.

  "Give me a minute to see if I can find anything better," he said, already rifling through his disorganized piles.

  "On you?" Constance asked, raising an eyebrow in mild disbelief.

  "I have a spatial storage skill. I just wish it were better organized—everything’s in piles right now," he admitted, a touch of embarrassment in his tone.

  "Oh, wow. I had no idea we could have such a useful ability," she marveled. "Everything anyone’s ever seen has been random scraps that barely helped in a fight or were too ambiguous to understand. Still, we should be able to make this work—but how will we get out of here without drawing attention?"

  "I’ll create a distraction," Matt proposed, a determined glint in his eyes. "All of you just… be ready to move when I give the signal."

  Matt spent the next ten minutes meticulously going over exactly what needed to occur while he allowed his injuries time to heal. All the while, he maintained a careful split focus, ensuring that no one entered the upper level of the watchtower. Oddly, it seemed as though no one had even thought to check that area. With his gut feeling returning to near normal, Matt cautiously crept up to the main floor of the watchtower to verify that the area was clear. Once he confirmed that not only were there no intruders outside but that even the bodies of the men he had killed lay undisturbed, a sense of confusion washed over him. Nevertheless, he sent word to the women below, each of them now armed with either one of his throwing knives or a weapon looted from previous encounters. Despite their preparedness, Matt couldn’t shake the feeling that the seven of them were ill-equipped to face any serious threat; he led them along a path away from any encountered groups along the way.

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  Five hours later, Matt had successfully ushered the women back onto the path leading to the fort without any further complications. While he did take time to create false trails, Matt stayed with the group, even pushing them to march through the night despite their obvious exhaustion and the minor injuries they had sustained to their legs and feet. On the few occasions Matt stopped to allow the group to rest and for him to tend to their injuries, the respect and awe they felt for him only grew. It was undeniably a grueling march, and when Matt finally caught sight of the fort coming into view, he nearly collapsed from the overwhelming relief that washed over him.

  Knowing that time was of the essence, Matt promptly ordered a scouting group to be dispatched. He then found himself sitting with Eleanor, Jaelyn, Greg, and Steve as he detailed every nuance of the journey. The conversation quickly escalated into a heated discussion about the potential consequences should the story of what had happened to the women spread, possibly inciting trouble within their enemies' ranks. Unfortunately, Matt soon realized that he was too exhausted to push the conversation further, and the meeting was adjourned so he could get some much-needed rest.

  At dawn, as the sun barely peeked over the horizon, Matt awoke with a clear memory of the goods stored in his spatial storage meant for the fort. The only problem was that he wasn’t entirely sure whether dumping everything in the middle of the fort was wise—but given that no buildings had been constructed yet, it seemed the only available option. So, after waiting for Eleanor to wake and gather those she deemed necessary, Matt proceeded to empty his spatial storage. As each boulder and artifact vanished from the container, a smile spread across his face, not least because the fort still required more supplies, but also due to the growing excitement over the assortment of random goods now on display.

  The biggest smile, however, came when the iron chandeliers were piled against a stone wall and a fire was built directly on top of them. Once the blaze roared to life, Greg and everyone skilled in wind or fire magic began channeling their powers to intensify the flames. This orchestrated assault continued until Matt was handed a war hammer, and one of the chains with a hooked end was used to pull a chandelier out of the fire. With all his might, Matt pounded on the incandescent relic until it was deformed into a much smaller shape, then tossed it back into the fire as another chandelier was drawn out for its turn.

  This process repeated over and over until about noon when the exhausted scouts sent out the previous day returned. They reported that they had seen no signs of enemy forces. Consequently, a second group was dispatched—this time led by Steve—while the first group was sent off to rest. At that moment, Matt handed his hammer to someone else as they made a deliberate effort to get a chandelier to become plain smelted iron, signaling that it was time for the formal meeting. This meeting would include him, Eleanor, Emily, Jaelyn, Greg, Constance, Sarah—the other woman who had shown leadership within the enemy group—Zhihao, and Paul.

  “Alright, before we begin questioning our guests, let’s go over what we know for sure,” Matt began.

  “We know that they didn’t charge recklessly after you,” stated Greg. “Really, my group only set a few false trails. Given that it was clear these tracks were fake—and that you could easily explain to the women you rescued how to recognize them—I doubt they’ll be slowed down much.”

  “They might have even failed to notice them at all,” Sarah offered thoughtfully. “I mean, if you understand that the marks serve as the tip of an arrow pointing in the right direction, and you know exactly where on the trees to look for these marks, then it’s easy to follow them. Without that specific knowledge, though, the marks could be interpreted in any number of ways.”

  “All it would take is spotting three or four trees to figure this out,” Matt observed. “Especially when they come across the double-marked trees at the path’s turning points.”

  Constance commented, “We know that they are likely uncertain about what they should do. To our knowledge, they have never had to march more than a day to encounter any other groups—and none of those groups were as large as yours or had a fort.”

  “We also never let them know that our fort was damaged,” added Greg. “So, they should be preparing enough men to mount a real siege. Heck, they might even be building ladders or devising some other strategy, thinking it will help them overcome our defenses.”

  “Isn’t it normal to build such siege equipment once a siege is underway?” asked Emily. “If they’ve never even seen our walls, how could they possibly know what to build?”

  “They could be waiting for Zhihao and me to return, just as promised,” stated Paul. “Honestly, I think we’ve gathered enough evidence to explain what’s going on here.”

  Before anyone could object, Matt interjected sharply, “Sarah, that is exactly what I plan to do. Once Paul cooperates with this meeting, he and Zhihao will be free to act as they please. That’s why we’re focusing on what we know now, not on our future plans. Paul, please ask Zhihao what she expects them to be up to.”

  “Promise me an escort back to them, and I’ll help,” Paul replied cautiously, “but otherwise, I think it’s in my best interest to remain silent.”

  Matt shot back firmly, “I can’t promise that. However, if they show up, I won’t hesitate to send you out to meet them immediately.”

  Paul sighed and murmured, “I think I’m done here.”

  "You’re trash, you know that," stated Zhihao with a hint of frustration. "I now understand why, even though I was a camp leader, I was never permitted to speak with our higher-ups. Even if we had a voice in each vote there, we were less free than the people here. Everyone here directly points to Matt when they have a complaint about how things are run, and he takes it in stride, at least acknowledging their grievances. Yet, despite all the delays caused by voting and how often we were unhappy with the outcomes, we simply went along with it because the will of the majority supported it. However, I still question that, as who’s to say the vote wasn’t rigged to go the way the men at the center of it all wanted it to?"

  "At least we know that won’t happen this time," replied Matt confidently. "After all, I saw enough people gathered in one place, ready to march on us, that they would know how the vote went simply by talking among themselves. I would even venture to say that if they felt like everyone who voted against marching on us was being singled out, they might have rebelled on their own."