The grove of trees looks relatively young, and it seems like it was harvest about twenty years ago. The grove itself was about a hundred to two hundred acres of birch and maple tree. The birch trees are fast-growing and easy to harvest. They can be used in various forms to healing salves, and sedatives. Even casts for broken bones and the maples trees will make a good harvest of syrup in the future. Someone did some planning on their crops. The grove is surrounded by fields and a road to it south. Each of the fields has a small wall of fieldstones to mark the boundary of the field. While waiting for the grave robber to make his appearance, Eugene dwells on his newly acquired memories. The battle earlier today was about two thousand people total mostly serfs like him. All the serfs were given a short training on the use of the sharpened wooden spears. About a hundred light cavalry and a few dozen men on both sides with short bows with a few longbowmen thrown in. One of the few armors, if any, that were used in the battle was draped over Jared's dead shoulder. It was a brigandine, which is basically a breastplate made of two pieces of leather sew or riveted together with bronze plate place between the leathers to keep the plates from moving around. Depending on the quality workmanship, which in this case, it was sub-par quality. A little heavy, but it beat no armor.

“Once I finally get settled in, I will make my own. I am not ready to get in the middle of a fight between the two dukes that only want to grab land and more power at the slaughter of their people.” Muttering to himself, remembering how all the male in Joseph's family and other members in the village were dragged away to become cannon fodder for the enemy knights to slaughter. In a war for silver, that will only make the barons richer, and the poor suffer more. If he had two hundred to four hundred crossbows, their cavalry and troops could have been stopped. Eugene thought of the carnage that would happen with the introduction of gunpowder.

“Is not going to happen,” Eugene mutters to himself. Roman-era to early middle ages is okay on weaponry, crossbows are doable, but gunpowder made changes to the world to the worst in his opinion. It is not something Eugene is ready to live with. The pointing ears make him worry, thinking of Tolkien series of books he had read when he was younger of elves and dwarves. It bothers him about other things like the possibilities of magic and dragons. From what little he can glean from his memories there is dwarven iron, weapons made from them are rare and sought after. There is magic in the world, but rare and hard to use. Goblins, orcs, and trolls are whisper about in the night to scare children, but even the adults seem to be frightened by the stories.

The sound of a thump and some cursing not more than fifteen feet away brought Eugene out of his thoughts. Carefully gripping the hatchets in his hands as he watches as the middle age man smack into another low branch, nearly knocking him to the ground. Using the distraction, he slips closer to the man on the ground.

“I'm going to skin those two bastards alive for delaying me this long! If we get caught on the road before we reach our home, we are all dead!” The man grumbled as Eugene stare at the overweight man as the man slowly walks within the grove, peering around nervously.

“Boys! Are you there? Don't make this old man have to beat you for trying to play tricks on me!” he stomp and hiss aloud.

While he was staring at the man, it may have kicked in the man's six senses. Because he seems to sense someone here, Eugene lay one of the hatchets on the ground and picking up a nut. Giving it a toss over the man's head and hearing it bounce on the ground and roll through the fallen autumn leaves. The man jumps around, holding a sword while peering into the darkness.

“Come any closer! I will kill you! So stay back!” in a nervous yell.

Picking up the hatchet and raising it above his head for a throw, Eugene hesitated only for a second as he remembers the man's orders to his sons to kill the wounded soldier. He let fly the ax, hearing it thunk into flesh as the man fell. Waiting a few moments, he moved up to the body and started striping several daggers and a sword. A couple of better leather wrist guards and two more shin guards were retrieved from the body. Sadly no shoes or boots, only sandals, which is something he never wants to wear. The one dagger felt different than the rest a lot slimmer, and the texture feels different than the bronze dagger like it been shaped and not pour into a mold. The armor was light leather over the padded armor that didn't protect him from the hatchet. Although the bronze skull cap may come in handy if not as protection, maybe a bowl. Two small bags were found on the body. One bag had a hefty bit of coins, and the others feel like a bunch of stones like crystals or gems. Not sure if they are gems, he only felt crystals a few times in stores that were selling them.

It was not hard to find the two-wheel Ox cart with the two mules that were attached to it.

The morning sky was getting brighter. Looking over the cart for about thirty minutes, finding lots of wool blankets, he spots several short bows and one longbow. There were four large barrels of arrows and a few dozen bronze short swords, daggers, and a few different pieces of leather armor. He was able to load his father and two uncles' bodies onto the cart and load up the rest of the stolen thing that the two brothers gather from the dead. As the sun rose, he checks over the mules for brands, not finding any. Another fifteen minutes of looking around the cart. He saw a wainwright brand burnt into the bottom of the cart it seems like it was branded about a decade or two at the Town of Dalt about one hundred miles to the south of here. Eugene sign with relieves that there was no crest to identify that it belongs to a baron or duke. He cleans up his tracks and lay some false trail. He makes it look like a cold camp using the cart as a place to sleep. He headed out after eating some hard biscuits and moldy cheese he found in the cart. Two hours after sunrise and he headed to the road running east and west and pulled on to it and went east toward the sun. After a mile down the road, he spotted a sizable thorny thicket off to his right several hundred feet to the south of the dirt track that supposes to be the road. Finding an old trail leading into the thicket, he jumps off and cleans up and cover his tracks as best as he could. If anyone were looking and an excellent tracker, they would quickly find his tracks considering the cart was loaded with bodies and items from the battle nearby. It took an hour to carefully move the thorny bushes and vines out of the way. Moving a few small fallen trees and leading the cart farther into the thicket. He finally arrives at a small open area with a broken foundation for a house and a small stone spring house that was about ten square feet with a missing roof. Looking into the spring house, show a pool of clear water tricking out the doorway and into the grassy, muddy grounds to the south side of the spring house and into the thicket itself.

Getting a drink of cold refreshing water. Eugene surveys the area after a while, then moved the cart to the west side of the small space and unhook the mules, leading them over to a small puddle of water just below the spring house. Staking both mules where they can feed on the green grass and drink from the water that trickling into the pool of water. Eugene went back to cover up the tracks and then started covering up the cart with the brush. The thorn on the thicket is about six inches long and hollow. Cutting off a few thorns, he wrapped them up and put them away. Hearing some horses, he drops flat near the entrance into the thicket hiding in the brush.