Chapter 250: The Trade

When the bitter cold of the Northern Wasteland blew across the Rune region with the north wind, bending the green grass that was gradually turning yellow on the wilderness, it symbolized that this land had entered the most difficult time of the year: winter.

And the Easterlings, who were savage and combative by nature, were in the period of the most serious internal strife during this difficult season. Small tribes would expel the elderly who couldn't work and then take the initiative to offer tribute to seek the protection of the strong, while powerful forces would also prepare for battle, guarding against attacks from others at all times.

Not only the humans who had fallen into darkness, even the animals living on this vast wilderness would collectively migrate toward the south, heading to the south where it was warmer and the water and grass were still lush.

Wolf packs and leopards, as carnivores, would also often move following the movement of wild horses, wild cattle, and antelopes. And the Easterlings, who were extremely experienced in hunting, would follow the footprints of the carnivores and take all the prey they could carry into their pockets at the appropriate opportunity.

"Woof, woof, woof," "Woof," "Woof."

The hunting dogs that discovered the movement attracted the attention of their masters through a series of rapid barks, and sturdy steeds galloped up amidst the whistles of the riders, charging toward the wolf pack that had already started hunting. The target of the wolf pack was a huge herd of antelopes.

Soon, the originally somewhat peaceful scene on the grassland ceased to exist. The antelopes, with their slender limbs and agile movements, discovered they were trapped in an encirclement during their gallop and began to flee in all directions amidst terrified neighs, only to be bitten to the ground by grey wolves that pounced over one after another.

It was just that before they had time to enjoy the fruits of their labor, the blood-mouthed wolves were hit by sharp arrows one after another, fleeing in whimpers. But the wolves that had been hit by arrows couldn't run far at all and would soon collapse to the ground due to blood loss and exhaustion.

In the very end, the antelopes that had luckily escaped the wolves' mouths would continue to flee toward the south, while the attacked wolf pack would leave their compatriots and the prey all over the ground to the Easterlings, who acted just as sinisterly and despicably, amidst howls, and then leave the hunting ground unwillingly, turning into small groups once again.

Normal wild wolves wouldn't gather in a scale of a hundred like Wargs; they were just cooperating temporarily.

And on a hillside, Baal, who had shaved his head even in the bitter cold, looked at his subordinates' hunting situation and nodded imperceptibly. This harvest could only be said to be passable for him.

Because in the past, he had once possessed a vaster hunting ground and had harvested more prey.

It was just that that was on the other side of the Red River, Rhovanion, where the population was sparser but prey was everywhere.

"Boss, boss."

A hunting horse spitting white smoke approached this hillside rapidly from the west. Before the person arrived, the urgent call spread to Baal's ears with the wind.

"People are coming from the west. He hopes you can go back as soon as possible, saying there is a lord who has a special order, and the price is very high."

"Damn it, keep your voice down!"

Baal scolded his trusted aide sternly.

Even in the tribe he controlled, not everyone knew how close his trade with the Northern humans was. Most people just knew that their boss had become more and more capable in recent years, often taking out exquisite goods and obtaining considerable benefits in trade.

Taking off the hat sewn from rabbit fur and inlaid with a green gemstone, Baal touched his head that was already steaming, and began to calculate in his heart.

Strange, in the past, it was always him begging to arrange for someone to bring gifts to visit, and even then, he had to see whether the Count, who hadn't been enfeoffed for many years, was in the mood to see the messenger he sent. What happened today? Could it be that the big fireball glowing with light had risen from the other side of the mountain?

"What kind of people? Have they been here? What special order?"

"Don't know, a young man with blonde hair. He didn't say anything else, just told you to go back quickly. If you take too long, he won't wait, and there won't be any goods for this year."

"You don't know anything, and you come to report to me, huh?!"

Hearing this, Baal lashed his trusted aide's brand-new leather coat hard, making a "bang" sound. The trusted aide smiled embarrassedly while touching his new clothes, as if he hadn't felt the pain.

Baal, still cursing, buckled his hat heavily onto his head, flipped onto his horse, and said to the deputy beside him: "Tell everyone to process the prey before going back. Don't break the skins like last time; they won't be worth anything. Do you understand?"

After speaking, he took a few people and galloped back to his territory.

If Baal had any other ideas, he wouldn't be this humble. His current bald head was also because the people from the west couldn't stand him not washing his hair often, so it was shaved off.

Honestly speaking, Baal was already a very clean existence among the Easterlings. It was just that the living conditions of the Easterlings didn't allow them to develop the habit of paying too much attention to hygiene. No matter how much, they couldn't compare to Rhovanion, which was managed by Allen.

And no matter how much he was mistreated, Baal could only endure it silently, because he had already become accustomed to obtaining huge profits from trade. And those exquisite goods, besides being able to exchange for a large amount of wealth for him, could also bring Baal the respect of others.

There were plenty of people who brought gifts to Baal's door, wanting to get some goods that were not common in the East, to use as a stepping stone or to exchange for some things they wanted to obtain.

In fact, the place where the Easterlings lived was far from desolate. When the Second Age began, Sauron, who had escaped the judgment of the Valar, inherited this territory from Morgoth.

And under the terrifying authority of the new Dark Lord, these Easterlings, who had originally lived extremely loosely, built quite a few towns and villages.

Moreover, Sauron also taught the Easterlings smelting techniques, as well as other skills related to war. Until now, the fierce and combative Easterlings still used these skills and treated Sauron, who taught them the skills, like a god, although there was more fear than reverence in their hearts.

Baal was a relatively rare anomaly among the Easterlings. He wasn't particularly fond of moving his tribe next to those towns. Although that was the center of power for the Easterlings, the strife there was also quite fierce. Often, failed leaders would see that the situation was not good and leave that area. His boss, Ashur, had once suffered such treatment.

In order to ensure a certain degree of autonomy and facilitate his own commercial activities, Baal, after being driven away by Fatis, still built his tribe not far from the Red River. That was a sunny hillside. Although he lost a town and a large amount of wealth that couldn't be moved,

but the extremely shrewd Baal took away all the captives, as well as the knowledge mastered by the captives. In his new territory, besides having large tracts of farmland, there were newly built windmills, a fruit orchard that was growing, and even a winery that was being prepared for construction.

This was extremely rare among the Easterlings. Only leaders who possessed towns possessed relatively sound facilities. Most Easterlings living in tents didn't have this consciousness at all, or perhaps they hadn't received education in this regard, so they wouldn't have the consciousness of managing a territory.

Baal, who was still relatively wealthy in these years, built himself a house made of stone and wood. This was not easy on the wilderness. Timber was still relatively easy to obtain, but suitable stones were not so easy.

However, Baal still relied on his broad interpersonal relationships to find a tribe that possessed Dwarven slaves, and only then completed this building. Although it couldn't compare to the castle in Red River Town, Baal was already very satisfied. Every time he pushed open the wooden door, he sincerely felt a sense of achievement.

It was just that today was different. Baal, who returned to his territory in a hurry, saw a sturdy young man in armor waiting for him there as soon as he walked into the hall.

Baal hadn't seen this young man with blonde hair. He just felt a sense of familiarity, and from those cold eyes, he also detected hatred like surging waves.

Although the young man was trying his best to suppress it, Baal was ultimately a warlord who ruled thousands of people, and this couldn't be hidden from him.

It was just that Baal, who was in a disadvantageous position in the trade, didn't express any dissatisfaction. If the hatred between the Easterlings and the Northern humans were to be traced, I'm afraid one day and one night wouldn't be enough to tell it. Just the number of people who died at Baal's hands was unknown.

But business was business. Baal had no grudge against wealth. He also felt that the other side needed him to constantly provide population, especially those Rhovanion people who had been enslaved for a long time.

"This young gentleman, have we met?" Baal maintained the basic etiquette he had learned, hiding his fierce side.

"No, and there's no need to meet. I'm just here to bring a letter to you." The young messenger's words were calm and waveless. He took a wooden tube from his bosom, and then a scroll tied with a silk ribbon appeared in his hand.

Baal gave a look, letting his little brother go and take the letter. At this moment, he actually felt the breath of danger, as if what the young man took out wasn't a scroll, but a sharp dagger. This had to make this Easterling warlord act carefully.

The content of the letter was not complicated. Even Baal, who had a rough grasp of the Western tongue, could understand it. It stated that a lord more noble than that Count hoped to obtain a batch of over two hundred Dwarven slaves to dig a secret gold mine, and hoped Baal could act as a go-between.

If Baal could handle it himself, that would of course be the best. And as a reward, the goods provided to Baal next year would increase fivefold. And as a thank you, that noble lord would also give Baal a gift with special power—a piece of armor that was very light but had excellent protection.

If it wasn't possible, Fatis hoped Baal would provide some information to see which tribe possessed a large number of Dwarven slaves. It would be best to provide the tribe's name, the location where they lived, and the style of their banner. The rest, he would handle himself.

And the young man named Brendon before him would lead a small cavalry squad, acting as a messenger to run back and forth from time to time, doing some things in information communication, until this transaction was completed.

After reading the letter in a hurry, countless thoughts surged in Baal's heart.

A lord more noble than the Count? That was probably the human King living on the other side of Mirkwood. To say that the human monarch with the title of "Dragon Slayer" needed Dwarven slaves, Baal's first reaction was that he didn't believe it, because he knew the relationship between the other side and the Dwarves.

But after seeing the secret gold mine, he believed it a little. After all, the greed of Dwarves was something even the Easterlings had heard of. This involved a large amount of wealth, so of course, using slaves was safer, and Dwarven slaves who were proficient in digging were the best among them.

After Sauron returned to Mordor and officially announced his return, the Easterlings, who had been constantly strife-ridden, had been relatively peaceful on the surface these years. At the very least, they wouldn't launch blatant fire-fights. But the nature of being accustomed to plundering also made the Easterlings set their sights on more distant areas.

This situation caused the Dwarves, whose lives had originally been relatively stable, to suffer. If it were in the mountains, it was an indisputable fact that the Easterlings couldn't beat the Dwarves. But if they were caught by the enemy, the Dwarves walking on the wilderness wouldn't even have a chance to escape.

The goats they rode couldn't outrun steeds and hunting dogs, not to mention those two sturdy short legs.

Some Dwarves would fight to the end after encountering a crisis, but there were always those who were attached to life and unwilling to accept death, eventually becoming slaves of the Easterlings.

These years, because of information problems, the routes that had been relatively safe in the past had become dangerous, which led to quite a few Dwarves visiting relatives and friends being attacked on the wilderness. Although Baal hadn't done it, he knew that those tribes closer to the north often did such things.

"This trade is no problem. I can probably handle it, but this reward is not enough. I want ten times, and I want five... no, ten pieces of that armor."

Although in the communication between the two sides, Baal's status had always been in a disadvantageous position, when business came to his door, he still had the courage to ask for a lion's share.

In the cooperation with Rhovanion, although he could obtain very good benefits, that wasn't all his own. Ashur, who had regained power, protected him, so he had to extract half of the wealth.

In fact, if it weren't for considering that his relationship with Allen was too bad, Ashur would have mastered this trade route himself. Baal? He would probably have died long ago.

"Can do. Your request, I will truthfully report to my lord. Next time, I will bring the result. But this matter, you must do it first. Absolutely cannot delay. I don't expect you to be able to produce slaves immediately, but information must be available. If there is none, then this matter won't need you. I think besides you, there will be many people willing to cooperate with my lord."

After speaking, Brendon left this place, not wanting to see Baal for even a moment, because his father was tied to a chariot by Baal himself and dragged to death alive by Ashur.

And the reason was just because the slaves were too tired, and his father suggested wanting to rest for a while. ===== CHAPTER 251 =====