Butch

Butch nods to Cecil and then raises his hand. "Umm... Lord ir'Tajar sir... If it is any help, the spot where we were ambushed is marked by the corpse of the bear thing we were bringing here. I'm sure vultures will be circling if you send out a scouting team. I reckon it would be a full day's trek if your men travel light. I can't recommend pushing the horses with a heavier load because they'd end up fatigued when they reach the terrorists favorite ambush spot. Also, I'd guess it was a good twelve hours between the first ambush and the second. So, their camp couldn't be more than half a day's walk from that site. I'd reckon a might bit less, considering that they would take a circuitous route so as to lose anyone following them. Then that second group was traveling in the dark, so they were likely slowed down by that as well. That puts their camp within twelve miles of that spot and likely within four to six miles. I scouted out about a mile from the campsite and weren't nothing there. No houses or camps or nothing. And there weren't much kindling either, so I know it been picked clean by someone. Of course, if they been tipped off by some inside man, then likely they'd be trying to move out quickly. This might be your best chance..."

Then Butch notices Lord ir'Tajar and snaps out of his reverie. "Oh. So sorry sir. I should not be telling you how to do your business." Butch then backs away and starts fumbling with his gear on the chairs, trying to look busy.