Kadis snorted, but he was hardly in a position to tell the de facto commanders to pike off and jump off a cliff.
"Sure, why not. I'd hate to see you get carved up."
Under his breath, he added "...where I couldn't watch."
He pulled his leathers and ringmail back on, grimacing at the feel of boiled leather scraping against the still-raw flesh of his wound. The pain was irritating - he wasn't accustomed to losing, but then again, he had screwed up. Pain was the price of Pride, and he had altogether too much.
The tracks were peculiar. They became suddenly slightly deeper, then significantly shallower. As though they'd been moving off the cart, unloading the crates that were supposedly loaded with Mythril.
"Alright, let me see if this makes any sense. They just made off with a load of the most expensive metal in existence and they're fleeing through the forest, so rather than just move as fast as they possibly can, they stop and unload the cart so they can move the metal on foot? Does that make sense to any of you? Because I've got this sneaking suspicion that we're walking into something nasty."
He shook his head. There was something not quite right about this whole situation. Logical reactions were out. The bandits weren't making any sense. They weren't moving quickly, nor were they trying to steal away. There were certainly a number of ways they could have killed the group, not least of which being a crossfire of arrows. So, assuming these bandits had any wits, they'd have kept the cart or killed the pursuit.
"Keep your eyes open. In this light, it's hard to tell if you're looking at the earth or a pit covered in rushes and leaves." Kadis pulled his cloak over his head and brought it around. Rings were inferior to Chain in most respects, but they were much quieter. A decade of skulking around in shadows and meeting with shady clients had taught him a few things.
"Any of you get this weird feeling we're being manipulated?"