(Author's note: I believe the quality of my book has declined recently. That's why I really need reader comments. Please feel free to give unbiased and harsh criticism.)
As the morning rays illuminated everything, Thomas walked toward Morrigan.
"My Lady, I sensed a convoy of people heading this way. A big one too." Thomas looked at Morrigan, who was sitting around the fire and eating venison.
Morrigan frowned and lifted her head. She turned to Thomas and asked, "A convoy? How many people?"
"They're close to 400."
"Why would that many people head south?" Rachel asked curiously, joining the conversation. Thomas sighed and then turned to Morrigan. "This convoy is not an immigrant convoy; it must be a slave trader's convoy."
"There's even someone you might recognize among them." Morrigan was puzzled, not understanding what Thomas meant. "How could I have any acquaintance with a slave trader?"