Bardeck nodded after a brief hesitation, seeing the logic in it. He was usually level headed, but a certain ferocity often creeped up and overtook his mind during and just after he's had to fight for his life. It kept him alive in combat, but he needed a small bit of time to calm down without making rash decisions. "Good thinking," he said, and pommeled the prone man in the head with the haft of his axe. He didn't care if he lived or died, but the man [i]had[/i] confessed what he wanted to know.

"We best hurry. Grab what we can from the hut and get going." Bardeck said, glad the horses hadn't run off particularly far. He went in to grab half of the equipment. Cooking pots and the like. Before long they were mounted on the horses, cresting the hill and leaving the lake and bodies behind. The day had just begun, and the sun would be reaching its zenith in only a few hours. 

Once they made it parallel to the roads, still within a distance away, they rode for an hour. It almost seemed like the man had been lying to Bardeck, because for most of the morning they would see hide nor hair of any caraven. That it, until a voice was heard. A call, from one man to another. It was indecipherable what he said, but past a few trees, Bardeck could just peek enough to see half a dozen men-at-arms walking beside a cart that held a chest. The dirt road was well trodden, and the trees loomed over the men, and they seemed confident of making it to their destination.