Both the bandits and Suleiman's own soldiers wore expressions of boundless excitement.
That was exactly the effect Suleiman wanted. He wanted everyone to see that anyone who served him, no matter their origins, would be rewarded, and that no achievement would ever go unnoticed.
Just then, two soldiers brought over a man bound tightly from head to toe and forced him down at Suleiman's feet. One of them spoke:
"Lord Suleiman, this is the messenger we captured."
Suleiman lowered his head and studied the man, who was pinned to the ground by the two soldiers and curled into a ball. The man raised his head, his eyes calm and defiant.
Lushen let out a gasp. He had completely forgotten the most important thing. He hurriedly began explaining to Suleiman what was suspicious about the man.
"Search him." Suleiman said only one word.
The soldiers immediately set to work, patting down the messenger from head to toe. They even tore open the lining of his clothes, but found nothing. One soldier spoke in a somewhat uneasy, quiet voice: "Lord Suleiman, there's nothing."
Suleiman wasn't surprised. His expression didn't change at all. He even poked the campfire with a branch, watching the messenger look up and meet his gaze before he finally asked, "Who is your master?"
The messenger sneered and turned his head away, clamping his mouth shut.
"You think you're tough?" Suleiman's tone was utterly calm. He picked up a branch whose tip had already turned to charcoal and slowly pressed it against the man's face. It crackled as it burned.
The messenger's body stiffened almost imperceptibly. It was only a little pain, and he kept his expression unchanged.
Suleiman gave a soft laugh, turning his gaze away from the man. He drew his short dagger and began gently shaving