In the afternoon, there was still no sign of the heat abating, but across the mountains and plains of tea fields, the tea pickers were still busy without daring to slack off in the slightest.
Ahead was the Toxor Estate.
Aegon led an army of over three hundred men to wait a few miles away from the estate, an action equivalent to issuing a security declaration, waiting for the other party to proactively come and contact him.
If they swaggered directly into the estate, it would inevitably cause unnecessary trouble and panic.
Aegon found a shady spot under a tree and sat down, seeing Belwas, Connington, and the others closely following behind him.
Losing his temper publicly just now was merely to firmly grasp the command of the army, not because he truly intended to drive Connington away.
He also knew that Connington would absolutely not leave easily.
Aegon did not like internal friction.
This was all Illyrio’s fault; he could just slash him a couple more times when he looked back.
Connington and his party hurried over, but did not immediately step forward to approach Aegon.
He had also been young once, and understood that it took young people a little time to calm the anger in their hearts.
He believed that since Aegon was able to train this army to its current state, he must have genuine capability.
Not long after, Aegon saw seven or eight riders rushing toward his side.
The man in the lead was wearing a loose, clean white robe, and at first glance, he looked like a monk.
“Hand the letter to him,” Aegon said to Roget beside him.
Roget strode forward and handed over the letter left earlier by Galeri.
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Seeing him holding the envelope and inspecting it carefully, the soldiers could not help feeling irritated.
After all, they had been on the road all day, tired and thirsty, with empty water flasks, and only wanted to rest quickly.
It was only because Aegon’s figure remained upright that they dared not make any indulgent moves.
But soon, the white-robed monk immediately put on a smiling face and walked up close to Aegon.
“So it is Lord Cyrus, we have long prepared a banquet and a place for you to rest; please take a short rest here.”
Aegon nodded.
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Under the guidance of this white-robed estate owner, Aegon led his people into the estate, followed closely by the soldiers behind him.
Connington was about to step forward to follow when Griff on the side asked, “My lord, are we going in together too? You don’t have to endure such humiliation for my sake; when we go back, I will definitely train twice as hard.”
Seeing Griff trying to dissuade him, Connington felt as if he saw the shadow of another person, and felt very gratified.
Rhaegar back then was also like this, able to care about the feelings of others.
He would never forget that handsome crown prince who radiated sunshine and a bookish aura.
Pulling himself away from his memories, he shook his head slightly and comforted him, “This matter has nothing to do with you. Besides, for those who will rush to the battlefield sooner or later, relying solely on training ground drills is far from enough. Getting along with people and handling disputes and conflicts are also very important matters that you must learn. This is also the first lesson we hope you learn.”
Connington knew in his heart that Aegon’s action just now was merely a teenager’s pride acting up, but Griff also harbored a young person’s strong self-esteem, so he could only gently comfort and persuade.
Aegon did not know what this nominal father and son were talking about.
Led by the white-robed estate owner, he had already walked into the interior of the estate.
But as soon as he entered the door, the scene before him made his heart thump, and the spectacle carried a bit of horror.
I saw that on both sides of the road leading deep into the estate, a row of crosses was erected, and people resembling mummies were tightly bound to the crosses.
The sun was venomously blazing.
These people were thus bound to the racks, motionless, enduring the scorching sun exposure.
Wanting a sip of water to quench their thirst was simply an extravagant hope.
On their cracked lips, only flies were “buzzing about”.
Many of them had long suffered from severe dehydration and passed out from heatstroke.
They were shirtless, their ribs clearly protruding like a thin layer of skin wrapping around a skeletal frame.
This place was truly the image of a living hell.
Looking around, the number of people suffering this punishment actually exceeded twenty!
“Lord Estate Owner, I remember that slavery is not allowed within Pentos. Exactly what grave crime have they committed to suffer such torture?”
Hearing Aegon’s question, the white-robed estate owner replied, “Ah, they were originally hired hands in the estate who owed debts and worked here to pay off their debts, but they slacked off all day and even attempted to escape, so I caught them to punish them.”
The white-robed estate owner spoke, looking at Aegon at the same time with a hint of disdain in his eyes.
Thinking to himself that he truly was “from the city,” what did a scene like this even amount to?
Only then did Aegon notice that this white-robed estate owner, who looked like a monk, constantly grasped a shiny leather whip in his hand.
Who knows how many people’s flesh had been torn apart by this whip.
Aegon did not say any more, letting the other party lead him into the spacious and cool wooden hall.
Aegon only brought Roget and Mago along with him; all the rest, including Belwas and Connington, were accommodated elsewhere.
After drinking a few cups of iced tea, the white-robed estate owner began to tell Aegon about the gang of bandits.
In this estate owner’s mouth, the bandit leader named Lucci committed all sorts of crimes—burning, killing, looting, bullying women, and doing every evil deed imaginable.
“These people are simply the laziest fellows in the world. Clearly having the opportunity to work stably, they don’t know gratitude in the slightest.”
“There are even more detestable fellows who not only run away, but even go to defect to that Lucci, guiding them to destroy our estate. People like this should have their bones taken apart one by one while they are still alive.”
When this beast in human form was telling Aegon this, it was as if he were discussing “the kitchen’s dishes are not bad,” not treating these people as human beings in the slightest.
Aegon already understood in his heart that this bandit leader named Lucci was most likely a pitiful person driven to rebellion by having no way out.
At the same time, he also obtained a crucial piece of news: this bandit leader was a Rhoynar.
Aegon’s biological mother was the Dornish Princess Elia, and the Dornishmen had always claimed to be descendants of the Rhoynar.
From a bloodline perspective, Aegon himself also flowed with the blood of the Rhoynar.
It was said that the Rhoynar originally lived generation after generation in the Rhoyne River basin and once established a powerful kingdom, but they provoked the Valyrian Freehold at the peak of its power.
Three hundred dragons swept in and completely destroyed the homeland of the Rhoynar.
A portion of the clansmen died in battle on the spot or became captives, and another portion fled to the Westeros continent.
These were the two main destinations of the Rhoynar.
Besides this, there were also some survivors hiding everywhere, eking out a meager existence around the Rhoyne River.
To their west was the sphere of influence of the Pentoshi, and to their east was the sea of grass where the Dothraki galloped.
This group of clansmen who had lost their homeland could only struggle to survive in the cracks between the two major forces.
Facing the continuous expansion of the Pentoshi and the endless plundering of the Dothraki, the weak Rhoynar were simply powerless to resist.
Listening to the white-robed estate owner’s narration, Aegon realized that defeating Lucci was not easy, even though he might only have about a hundred men around him capable of fighting.
Apart from self-teaching some skills in military command, this fellow also had the help of the locals.
If he wasn’t careful, he might fall into a “vast ocean”.