Cyrus wonders why this man would withhold information. Could it be that something even more frightening than a group of armed nobles and their servants is giving him pause? While the others try to get information out of the peasant strangers, Cyrus scans the area for signs of danger.
To Hrothgar: “That girl ought to leave interrogation to the experts. If she doesn’t get anything out of him, you can be sure Brute and I will.”
:Sohan smiles and approaches Cyrus:
To Lord Cyrus:
"1. Respectfully(as always), don’t assume I’m not the expert, here. Oh, sure, I may not be the ‘cutter’ of the group, but I can be rather…convincing. People do tend to talk to me and they do tend to tell the truth.
If they don’t share, I’m sure you will find a way to make them share.
Even as my Lord fell quite ill and even as he neared death, he always called me Sohan or Sohanux. Never ‘that girl’. Might you do the same, my Lord?"
The farmer fidgets uncomfortably, looking over his shoulder at his wife by the shack, then back at Sohanux. “Look, we don’t want any trouble…” After a moment of wringing his hands, staring at Sohanux uncomfortably, he continues. “The group that came before you, one of them looked injured and… they had a noble among them. They gave us some money to throw anyone following them off the trail. They threatened to kill us. That’s all I know, I swear.” Naimar can tell that the man is clearly terrified; likely frightened enough to be telling the truth though it’s impossible to say for sure.
“They went north yesterday afternoon.”
The farmer yells for his wife to get some beer for Sohanux, and, after a moment, for the rest of the party as well. He offers to vacate the shack with his family so that the party might dine inside.
The farmer gives Baldur a frightened and confused look but dares not say anything.
Cutter chortles to himself at this before making his way back to the house after the farmer’s invitation. He doesn’t bother waiting for the farmer to tell his family of the plan, instead shoving them out himself. He lets his horse graze outside.
:Sohan exits the house to talk to the family again:
:stares intently at them again:
Describe how the Noble man looked. How did you know he was Noble? Can you tell what family he came from?
In what way was the injured man hurt?
“I don’t know… like a noble.”
“Nobles stick out in these parts… no offense, m’lords. If not a noble then a peasant with more’n two coppers to rub together.”
This is clearly beyond the farmer.
“Well, they came in on horses, and one of the horses was carryin’ two. The one in back they had to carry into the barn. I never saw him up close and didn’t dare ask.”
After most have gone to sleep(or at least wound down conversation and planning), Sohan will drink quite a bit of beer before bed.
I don’t think the group has decided whether they’re stopping here.
“Well,you all seem to have matters well in hand here, I’m off to investigate the barn a little closer and see if I can glean anything useful. Likely I’ll find more than we’re going to get out this farmer.”
Not waiting for any response, Henry rides up to the barn, dismounts, ties off the horse, and enters the barn, all the while keeping an eye out for any traps or machinations the previous group or the farmer may have laid for us. He will then search around the barn and see what he can discover, particularly any blood left over from the injured party. It could give an idea of how injured the party is.
Walter strides off behind Henry, scanning the ground for clues as he walks.
*The interior of the barn is dark with a single weak beam of light filtering in through a hatch above the hayloft. There are four stalls on either side of the bottom floor, three empty and one housing a skinny brown horse. A cock is picking around amidst some loose hay in the center of the building.
The floor has been recently swept, but there’s a small mound of eggshells near the barn’s entrance. Henry finds an empty wine bottle in a corner near one of the empty stalls. The faded label reads Bellecourt Sporewine; this was expensive. Climbing up to the loft he finds a tattered sackloth blanket. Walter can’t identify any tracks that might not have been left by the farmer’s own animals but he does find a shovel leaning against a grain bin. After turning it idly he discovers a small smear of fresh blood on its handle.*
Well, wherever we stop for a night’s rest, that’s what I’ll do.
“As you see, I’m quite a bit more alive than Lord Faramond. Do not eavesdrop, or place yourself in conversation you don’t belong in.”
To Henry: “If it was not clear, the peasant woman is your responsibility. I don’t trust her, and if you can’t keep her in line she’ll be left behind at the next village. There’s something very strange about her.”
To Baldur: “That group is too far ahead to catch today, and one of them is injured. They’ll be sure to be slowed down. I think we should rest here a few hours. It was a hard night’s march, and our peasants are getting testy.”
Talking again to what seems like no person in particular: “See, I told you there was no need for violence. ‘Catch more flies with honey than vinegar,’ as they say. Although why anyone would want to catch flies is beyond me…” His words trail off and he seems lost in thought for what seems like a very long time, or perhaps just confused. It is hard to tell. Suddenly he half-yawns, “Oh I’m so very tired. Let’s rest here for the night.”
Right now it’s late morning. How long is the party staying here?
“Haven’t yet and I don’t plan to, my Lord.”
:Sohan uses hair accessories to do hair again:
Whatever Cyrus decides, that is what Hrothgar decides.
And whatever Baldur decides is what Cyrus decides? 
Guess it’s up to Baldur. God help us.
After being informed of the correct time, “Oh is it now? Well then, this calls for only one thing – a Noble Brunch! Instruct the peasants to prepare a meal fit for our stature: bacon, eggs, toast, and pancakes too. Oh how I love pancakes! And Týr will have a bowl of acorns. Really any nuts will do though.”
Týr jumps out of Baldur’s pocket and starts frolicking frantically around his shoulders. In a hushed voice, “Acorns might be hard to find this time of year. Really, why must you insist on this strange diet? … Oh, very well.”
We shall be woken up for this meal when the sun just begins to descend from its highest point. Now, where are the sleeping quarters?
*Cutter takes a pot from the farmer’s home and sets it over a fire so as to boil eggs. Choke prepares a stew using venison, also taken from the farmer. Those things, along with hard bread and beer, will have to do. Once his work is done, Choke sees to it that the horses are fed and watered.
The party rests in the barn (the shack is also available, but frankly the barn is more comfortable) and eats the eggs, stew, bread and beer; it’s the best meal they’ve had in more than a few days. The hours pass uneventfully until late afternoon begins to approach. If anyone has anything more to do here before the pursuit resumes, now’s the time to do it.*