Chapter 7. Dark Clouds Gather

 

“What’s going on?”

Bart, who had been surveying the hunting grounds since dawn, rushed back to the temporary hut after hearing the news from Miron. Just last night, there hadn’t been any problems, but the leader had collapsed before even finishing his first meal today.

“Nothing’s confirmed yet. For now, we’re getting ready to return to the settlement.”

“What’s the leader’s condition?”

“I’m not sure. He hasn’t improved since he suddenly collapsed.”

“What did the healer say?”

“Well, the thing is… there’s no healer.”

“No healer? What do you mean? Where did they go?”

“No, I mean… the healer didn’t come with us.”

At the mention that there was no healer, Bart’s eyes widened as he glared at Miron, who hurried to explain.

“He was supposed to come, but at the last minute, he was told not to. So he didn’t join us.”

“Told not to? By who?”

“Uh… well…”

Looking troubled, Miron glanced sideways at Namta.

If the leader is hunting outside the settlement for more than three days, the healer naturally accompanies him. But apparently, Namta had excluded the healer from the group.

“Do you know why?”

“No idea. I just got the report myself.”

“Tch. For now, focus on getting the leader ready to leave first. The others can follow later if they need to.”

“Got it.”

Bart approached the struggling, barely breathing leader and looked around. Just as Miron had said, remnants of an unfinished meal were scattered around the hut, as if the leader had collapsed during breakfast. Bart scanned each dish on the floor and suddenly froze when he spotted a yellow flower laid atop a grilled piece of meat.

A yellow flower? No one from the kitchen was specially called here, so who added such a decoration…? But that yellow flower… I’ve seen it before. Where was it? I know I saw it somewhere…!

As Bart searched his memory, an image of the Riazai Tribe flashed through his mind. Yellow flower. Poison. Stomach pain.

Bart slowly turned his creaking neck toward Namta. Namta sat beside the leader, head bowed. At a glance, one might’ve thought he was crying, shoulders slightly trembling. But Bart’s sharp gaze caught something else—the faint curl of Namta’s lips. He was smiling.

* * *

“Khak…!”

Without even a chance to scream, the masked man’s head was sliced clean off.

“Get rid of this without drawing attention.”

After shaking the blood off his blade midair, Bart gave the order flatly. Tu dragged the corpse away and disappeared somewhere.

“This one feels different from the others we’ve caught so far. He’s not just some nobody.”

Unlike Miron, whose voice was heavy with tension, Bart’s face remained calm. Ever since the leader had returned injured from the hunting grounds, subtle changes had begun to ripple through the tribe. The most noticeable one was that the families of warriors had begun getting hurt—one by one. And recently, there had even been deaths.

“Sharin is Tu’s half-sister, right?”

“Yeah.”

Sharin had been critically injured by the man who had just died. Though she survived, the healer said she might never be able to bear children. Since she wasn’t his full sister, Tu hadn’t reacted much to the news. In fact, he didn’t even seem to pity her. But what mattered was that someone had attacked Tu’s family.

At first, it had seemed like a series of random assaults. But not anymore. They were targeting Bart’s close warrior companions and their families. Even those who merely seemed to be friendly with them were being hunted.

He had wanted to believe it was just one of Namta’s reckless stunts. But judging by the dead man’s skills, he had likely been hired for a hefty price. Yet oddly, he didn’t seem to have been given any specific orders. These attackers were simply eliminating anyone in the vicinity—people close to Bart—without a clear idea of who really mattered.

The fact that they targeted someone like Tu’s half-sister, who held little emotional value to him, proved it. In a way, it was a relief. But that didn’t mean Bart could just sit back and do nothing.

“So they’re watching, observing before choosing their targets.”

“That’s what it seems like. I already told everyone to keep their distance from us, just like you suggested.”

“Any word from the north?”

“Nothing yet.”

“Goddamn it.”

With the leader bedridden, Namta was playing the part of acting leader and managing the tribe. Bart didn’t particularly object to Namta succeeding the leader. The problem was that Namta had started gathering mercenary warriors into the Mounted Tribe. Even worse, some of these outsiders, seemingly hired from who knows where, were now targeting Bart’s circle.

It might’ve had something to do with the Rainwood Tribe, but Bart couldn’t afford to dig through every warrior tribe just to uncover Namta’s plan. For now, he was observing. But with the attacks so clearly aimed at him and his people, Namta’s intention was obvious.

Namta wanted him gone.

And just days ago, Namta had announced he would accept volunteers to manage the newly expanded northern territory. It was framed as a call for volunteers, but everyone knew who the message was aimed at—Bart. There were no allied tribes of the Mounted Tribe in the north. In other words, being sent north meant either freezing or starving to death.

“Should we send another person?”

When Miron asked, Bart, as if having made up his mind, gave a firm command.

“Send someone quick and agile. And if they don’t give a clear answer this time, have them report back the number of warriors there and what kind of weapons they have.”

“Understood.”

“And keep stockpiling food and leather.”

If negotiations or an alliance failed, they’d have to subdue the northern tribe by force. But since they couldn’t move the entire Mounted Tribe’s warriors, they needed intel. Bart wiped the blood off his blade and gazed into the distance, toward the warrior quarters.

More than half of the warriors living in the tribe now belonged to Namta. And the number of spies watching Bart and his companions remained unknown. Everything was uncertain.

The bitterness in his throat tasted like bile. Bart, covering the bloodstains with dirt, turned to Miron, who was tidying up the area.

“Don’t tell anyone about this. Just reinforce the perimeter.”

Damn it, Bart swore under his breath with a sigh. Looks like he couldn’t delay any longer.

He’d been thinking about this ever since he began to suspect Namta’s true intentions, but had kept putting it off for personal reasons. Every time he saw Yujin, the words he meant to say would get caught in his throat. So he kept delaying—just a bit more, next time, not yet. Because he feared how Yujin might respond.

But now, he’d reached his limit.

Hurting a little is still better than losing everything.

* * *

After finishing his daily chores, Yujin picked up a box of herbs and headed toward Bart’s hut.

The leader had returned from the hunting grounds injured. At first, Yujin hadn’t thought much of it. Warriors often came back hurt from hunts, and they usually recovered quickly. But everything changed after that day.

What should have been a quick recovery turned into a worsening illness. And as the leader’s condition declined, something strange began to spread among the warriors. They said the problem was Namta, the leader’s son. Despite being the leader’s child, Namta had never been accepted as a warrior and was always on the outskirts.

Now that succession talks had begun, Namta was surrounding himself not with warriors from the Mounted Tribe, but with outsiders.

The settlement was abuzz with gossip and speculation about the next leader. Some claimed Namta should take over simply because he was the son. Others argued the strongest warrior should lead.

When people talked about the strongest warrior, Yujin thought of Bart. But he didn’t dwell on it. He didn’t know enough. And matters like the next leader of the Mounted Tribe were far beyond his place to interfere.

Still… it would probably be Namta, wouldn’t it? That worried him a little. From what he remembered, Namta and Bart weren’t close. He’d occasionally seen them together, but Namta would always make a point to avoid Bart or steer clear of him. That was all Yujin knew. He wasn’t good at picking up on things like this. The flood of whispered information made his head spin.

“Isn’t something seriously going to happen at this rate? This time it was Hafu who got hurt.”

“No way, it’s just a coincidence.”

“Even if he’s old, it’s Hafu we’re talking about.”

“Right? If even Hafu’s getting hurt, how are people like us supposed to feel safe walking around? Same with Sharin. If Miron hadn’t found her that time, it could’ve been really bad.”

Just yesterday, Tu’s father Hafu had been injured. While riding near the area, his horse suddenly buckled, and he was thrown off, breaking his leg. Hafu was known as one of the better horsemen, so people were shaken when they heard he’d fallen.

Especially coming so soon after Tu’s younger sister Sharin had been attacked, it only made the atmosphere worse.

Recently, people in the settlement had been getting hurt for no reason. And they all had one thing in common—they were connected to Bart. Rumors began to spread: someone was targeting Bart. At first, no one paid it much attention, but with someone in his circle getting hurt nearly every day, the rumors didn’t die down—they exploded.

But Yujin was less concerned with the rumors than he was with Bart’s wounds. At some point, Bart had begun returning to his hut with fresh injuries. At first, Yujin assumed it was from training, but the wound he saw yesterday couldn’t be explained by training. Luckily, it had missed any vital spots. If it hadn’t, it would’ve been serious.

“Bart, you’re already here? Looks like training ended early today.”

Yujin approached Bart, who was silently staring into the firepit. Another new wound marked his left wrist. But Yujin didn’t ask why Bart was getting injured so often. He wouldn’t answer anyway. If Bart didn’t want to talk, no one could make him.

Yujin tended to Bart’s injuries as if it were second nature.

“Big Aunt gave me permission to take tomorrow off. I’m thinking of going up the mountain to collect herbs—it’s the season for it right now. And I’ll make stew for dinner and bring it here. Let’s eat together tomorrow. What do you think? Are you busy tomorrow?”

After finishing the treatment, Yujin started packing away the herb box and shared his plans for the next day. Bart usually gave no answer, which Yujin took as agreement. So he smiled at Bart and began to lay out his bedding.

Just then, Bart pressed a hand to his temple, frowning, and said coldly.

“Don’t bother laying that out.”

“Should I do it later then?”

“Forget it. Just go.”

“Huh?”

“Leave.”

It took a moment for Bart’s words to sink in. Leave? Why? Did I do something wrong? Yujin froze, caught off guard by the unexpected command. But soon, he understood what Bart meant. His mouth went dry. He forced himself to swallow.

His mind spun, trying to find words. His throat tightened. Finally, with a strained voice, he asked calmly, or at least tried to.

“What do you mean, leave?”

“……”

“You mean… don’t sleep here anymore?”

“……”

“Is it because I toss and turn too much at night? If that’s it, I can sleep a bit farther away—”

“Stop bringing food. And don’t come here with herbs like this anymore.”

“…What?”

“I mean don’t come to my hut anymore. At all.”

“…Why? Did I do something wrong?”

The words trembled out of him before he could stop them. His vision blurred. A tight ache spread through his chest.

Bart had been the one to invite Yujin into his hut. So it made sense that Bart had the right to tell him not to come anymore. Just like how the invitation had come without warning, being cast out now shouldn’t be surprising.

But Yujin’s heart didn’t work like that. Human feelings weren’t so clean and simple. Being invited into Bart’s hut had felt like being allowed to stay by his side. Being told to leave now felt like being banished from that side. Bart was pushing him away.

He couldn’t breathe. What did I do wrong? Was it because I didn’t wear the necklace he gave me? But I didn’t want to lose it… Or was it that I asked to rest when I got tired? Or have I just been annoying him lately?

Yujin frantically searched his memories for something he might’ve done. But nothing came to mind. Then Bart finally spoke.

“That’s not it. You didn’t do anything wrong. Just… don’t come unless I call for you. Got it?”

“……”

“That’s an order.”

An order. Warriors often gave orders to commoners. In fact, everything they said could be considered an order. But since the day Bart had embraced him, he had never once ordered Yujin around. And now… an order. Yujin’s stomach churned. His head spun. He clenched his teeth, terrified he might throw up if he opened his mouth.

“Yujin, do you understand?”

“…Yeah.”

“Then go.”

His legs shook. He stumbled a few times before he could finally step out of Bart’s hut.

* * *

Yujin still couldn’t understand Bart’s command. And despite saying he would call for him when the time came, Bart hadn’t once sought him out in over two weeks.

All Yujin could do was quietly watch from a distance as Bart ate with the warriors in the communal hut and sneak glances while he trained. Every now and then, their eyes would meet. But even then, Bart would only glance at him briefly—nothing more. He didn’t smile, didn’t beckon him over.

Why? Why had he suddenly told him not to come to his hut?

Eventually, Yujin couldn’t bear it any longer and went to Bart’s hut.

He wanted to ask. Why had Bart told him not to come? No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t figure out what he’d done wrong. If he’d upset Bart without realizing it, he was ready to beg for forgiveness—anything to change Bart’s mind.

As he opened the hut’s door, his eyes met Bart’s. Bart had a cloth draped over his shoulder.

“You’re hurt?”

Yujin’s plan to confront Bart about why he’d been cast out vanished the moment he saw Bart’s injury. He rushed to him, inspecting the shoulder. It was a cut from a blade. Not life-threatening, but deep.

“Did it happen during training? Did you see the healer?”

It wasn’t a fresh wound. When did it happen? He hadn’t noticed anything off when he’d seen Bart training just a few days ago.

As Yujin examined the wound with a worried expression close to tears, Bart’s gaze landed on him. Feeling that gaze, Yujin looked up at him. Though he’d seen him from afar every day, this was the first time in a while they were face to face. His heart raced. The words “I missed you” lingered on the tip of his tongue.

“I didn’t call for you. Why are you here?”

“I… I just…”

“Get out.”

Bart harshly knocked away Yujin’s hand from his shoulder. Staring at his hand hanging in the air, Yujin stiffly lowered his head.

“No matter how much I think about it, I just don’t understand.”

Bart stood, having tied the cloth around his wound and dressed. He grabbed his weapons and stepped forward as if to leave.