The Lord Of Blood Hill-Chapter 37: Seventeen Silver Coins

After three months of traveling, stopping and starting along the way, the shadow guard finally leads Henwell across the duchy and into the Kingdom of Billie. By the time Henwell sets foot on the land of Billie, the weather is gradually warming up.
Looking at this unfamiliar country, Henwell feels a mix of emotions, surprised at how far he has come.
In a small town within the Kingdom of Billie, the shadow guard hands him a package.
"Inside is a token. Go find the Mosang Tavern people; they'll come to take you away. When the time comes, show them the token, and they'll take you to the arranged place. You must stay in that city for at least a year and cannot leave. If I hear you've escaped, I'll come for you again. Then you'll understand that being clever won't always save your life. Plus, there are plenty of smart people in the world; you're not the only one."
Henwell checks the contents of the package. Besides some dried food, there is a small amount of money, just enough to keep someone barely fed for a few months. Additionally, there's a small wooden dog, intricately carved by hand, which serves as the token the shadow guard mentioned.
After Henwell puts away his things, he asks the shadow guard who is preparing to leave, "When will the poison in me be neutralized? And my weapons, they were gifts from my mentor. I have the right to take them with me!"
The shadow guard glances back at him, leaves for a moment, and then returns, tossing the Dawn Greatsword and the large bow to Henwell.
"Kid, the way you look at me is really annoying! I've told you before, you're not the only smart one in the world, and you're not as clever as you think."
Henwell shrugs, "These two items hold great sentimental value for me, and I'm short on money right now. How about this: when you come to check on me in a year, I'll compensate you with some gold coins?"
The shadow guard sneers, "In a few days, the effects of the potion will wear off, and you'll regain your strength."
With that, the shadow guard leaves the room. Henwell begins to care for and polish his longsword and adjust the bowstring, humming an unknown tune. He has no intention of escaping just yet, as he's not entirely sure if that ill-tempered shadow guard has truly left.
That guy has been looking for an excuse to beat him up, and he doesn't want to give him a reason.
An hour later, the door swings open. A man with a sullen appearance walks in, giving Henwell a once-over.
"What's your name?"
Henwell, playing the part of a timid and somewhat frightened child, gives his name and shows the token. The man frowns, glances at it, and tosses it back to him.
"Is this sword yours?"
"Yes! It's a family heirloom, very important to me. I can't lose it!"
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The man scrutinizes him for a moment longer before gesturing impatiently for Henwell to follow him. They navigate through narrow, grimy streets dotted with puddles of dirty water, eventually arriving at a rundown tavern. This must be the Mosang Tavern the shadow guard mentioned!
Henwell is taken to a room in the tavern's basement. After the man leaves, Henwell frowns. That shadow guard really has a nasty streak and holds grudges. He's dumped Henwell in a human trafficker's den.
From his observations, Henwell realizes this is a hub for trading children. It seems the shadow guard wants him to suffer a bit, probably watching from the shadows, amused at his predicament.
With a resigned sigh, Henwell eats some dried food before lying down on a pile of straw. He drifts into sleep, surrounded by the muffled sobs of children in the next room.
Two days later, Henwell's body feels less sore and weak. He estimates that in about a week, he'll be back to normal. On this particular day, the number of children here has reached the desired count. Under the harsh commands of the traffickers, the kids are herded into a crowded wagon.
As Henwell boards the wagon, his bag is snatched away by the traffickers, along with his weapons, which they obviously don't intend to let him keep. The traffickers have their eyes on these fine weapons, thinking they could fetch a good price.
Seeing the traffickers armed with crossbows and on high alert, Henwell, still not fully recovered, decides against taking any risks. He asks the sullen man who brought him here, "Can I know how much I'm being sold for?"
"Seventeen silver coins! It's not a low price! You better hope you're worth it! If I've made a bad deal, you're in trouble!"
Henwell nods slightly, saying nothing as he steps onto the wagon packed with children. Seventeen silver coins! Alright, Henwell has taken note of it. He reminds himself to see clearly that in this world, his starting price is just seventeen silver coins!
Through the conversations of the traffickers, Henwell learns that his destination is a baron's estate, where they're looking to acquire serfs. Kids his age can fetch a decent price. The journey is expected to take about ten days. Of course, if there are towns along the way, the children will be displayed for sale, and if someone buys them, all the better.
Henwell plays it cool and compliant, not making any trouble. He doesn't mind the traffickers' beatings and insults, knowing that in seven days, once his strength returns, these people are as good as dead. Why bother with dead men?
By the fifth day, the caravan has passed through two towns, selling off five children, one of whom was a girl. Henwell, being larger and seemingly a big eater, hasn't caught anyone's interest.
By afternoon, the weather turns foul, with rain likely on the way. The traffickers find a sheltered spot to wait it out, as traveling in the rain could easily mire the wagon in mud. After distributing a small amount of food, the traffickers set up tents, ready to drink the night away.
In the middle of the night, Henwell suddenly opens his eyes, quietly assessing his surroundings. He then pulls a wire from his boot, easily picking the lock on the chains around his feet. Instead of immediately going for the wagon's door lock, he reaches into his clothes for some jerky, chewing it slowly.
After a while, Henwell's expression grows increasingly serious. Suddenly, screams erupt outside, followed by curses and the clash of weapons. The child next to Henwell wakes up, witnessing him pull out two steel spikes, each about a foot long and as thick as a pinky finger, from the lining of his clothes as if by magic.
Henwell gestures for the child to stay silent before nimbly climbing to the top of the wagon. He resembles a bat, hiding in the upper left corner of the carriage. With his left hand supporting the roof, a steel spike clenched between his teeth, his right hand aims a spike at the door below.
After some time, a piercing sound cuts through the air, followed by arrows piercing the wagon walls. The arrows penetrate several bewildered children, turning the wagon into a cacophony of screams and cries. Henwell tilts his head, dodging a long arrow that pierces through the carriage.
Moments later, the door is flung open, and upon seeing the scene inside, curses ring out. "Damn it! They're slave traders, not carrying valuable goods! It's full of human cargo!"