Later that night, the company is gathered around a large bonfire, celebrating with the villagers. Booze is pouring and good grub is cooking.
While at first the civilians were reluctant to engage with this band of misfits and outlaws, Thorvald, Rabbit and Kale quickly got drunk enough to forcibly drag the others into a dance without inhibition. After a while, one of the women, a widow perhaps, was even making the eyes at Kale, in spite of his disfigured face, but the sellsword was too drunk to notice.
A little further from the dancing and the singing, Anna sits on Viper’s lap and talk to Landyn and Saul. Both Landyn and Saul realize that they’re being third wheels, but it’s kind of funny to see the two lovebirds frown at them every few words or so.
Saul: “Those guys must be drunk as all hell to be dancing like that”
Landyn: “Nah, I think Kale is the only one there who really is drunk. You can tell because half his face is red and the other half is missing!” A cruel joke that’s already been said before. Landyn is also drunk.
Anna gasps: “You’re so mean! He must be very sensitive about his face!”
Landyn brushes her off: “Ahh, come on! He can’t hear us anyway. Plus, he used to call me Reeky.”
Anna: “Why Reeky?”
Landyn: “Because he found out I was a tanner before this, and tanners reek. Serves me right for pulling him out from under that mountain.”
Anna: “What do you mean you pulled him out from under a mountain?”
Viper jumps in: “Ah, he’s exaggerating a little. Kale was a miner, y’see. We just happened to be passing by when the mine collapsed.”
Anna: “Oh my! It must have been terrifying!”
Viper: “It was. Even for us, who were miles away when it first collapsed. We heard a deafening boom and the earth shook, then not long after we saw a huge cloud of smoke rising into the air.”
Landyn: “I think it was dust, actually. When we got there nothing was burning.”
Viper: “I’m tryna’ tell a story here!”
Landyn: “Ha! Go on then! Tell your woman about death and destruction. That’s sure to get her in the mood! Hahaha!”
Viper: “Ha - Ha. Anyways, the villagers were lucky that we needed time to rest anyway. Back then, the Knight Flayers were a large band of around fifty men, but almost half of us were wounded after a clash with a gaggle of witches, so Jon decided we could stop and help the villagers dig while the others healed.”
Anna: “Who is Jon?”
Landyn: “Our previous leader. We stopped by his grave the day after Viper met you.”
Anna: “Oh, sorry.”
Landyn: “No need. I can’t ask you to remember the name of a man you never met.”
Viper continues before anyone can say anything more: “Anyway, so there was this old lady in that village that always came to watch us work and cried her eyes out. She was wailing about how the mountain already took her man away, and how it was now taking her three sons away. She turned out to be Kale’s mother.”
Anna: “Really? What happened to her?”
Viper: “She had a heart attack after watching us dig for about five days. She just couldn’t take so much stress in her old age.”
Anna: “That’s so horrible…!”
Landyn takes another swig out of his wineskin: “I was kind of glad when she died to be honest. I thought to myself: Finally! Some peace!”
Anna: “You’re so horrible!”
Viper: “Anyway, something like ten days in, we finally reached a pocket of air within the rubble. After we had pulled out about twenty or so dead bodies, we found two men holding hands, brothers. When Gunther went to reach for one of them;” dramatic pause “the corpse gasped for air!”
Anna: “Who is Gunther?”
Viper: “He’s dead too.”
Anna: “Oh.”
Viper: “Anyway, that guy who gasped for air was Kale! Nobody’s sure how he survived. It was like a miracle!”
Landyn: “A rather shit miracle if you ask me. Everyone else died down there, in pitch black darkness, gasping for air hopelessly until their last moments.”
A somber silence sets in for a few seconds. Some clear their throat, some lubricate it with more alcohol. Landyn, feeling bad for bringing the mood down, tries to restart the conversation.
Landyn: “Anyway, most of us have some version of this sob story. We wouldn’t be homeless traveling killers if we still had mothers to take care of.” He chuckles softly into his wineskin.
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Anna: “The more I hear about you all, the more I feel stupid for running away from home…”
Viper: “Why? …I-”
Anna: “It’s not you, Viper. You’ve been good to me… It’s just, I feel unjustified for feeling so frustrated at such mundane things. Like, Kale lost everyone he loved and almost died buried alive, and Viper grew up as a slave in a fighting arena. But I just simply didn’t want to be sold off to some cobbler’s son or whatever…”
Landyn: “There was more than that, I’m sure.”
Anna: “Not really,”
Landyn: “But I’m sure there was. Were you never told you can’t do something because of what you had between those legs? Were you never told to shut up despite having a good suggestion? Some women can stomach that kind of thing, but some can’t. Seems to me, the smarter the woman, the more likely she is to go mad from suffering that kind of thing every day.”
Saul: “I had it hard too, you know. My father was pushing me to inherit the castle. He wanted me to spend my life cooped up in there, listening to the petty squabbles of peasants until I die.”
Anna: “...”
Landyn: “...”
Viper: “...”
Rabbit: “Shut the fuck up, Saul!” He came to take a rest from the dancing with perfect timing.
Landyn: “Good thing you came over, Rabbit.” He grabs the drunk by the back of the neck and pulls him in for a whisper: “Kill that merchant tonight. Quietly.”
Rabbit stands up, hiccups and salutes with a hand to his forehead: “Aye, aye, Sir Tanner!”
Anna wants to ask what they whispered about, but as soon as she opens her mouth, Viper pulls her in close and whispers into her ear: “Don’t ask them about what they said. You’ll find out come morning.”
His tone was too serious for her to say anything back. The party went on long into the night.
At some point, the merchant got out of his tent to use the outhouse. He disappeared into the darkness but never came back. Soon after, Rabbit came back with heavy pockets and a shiny new ring on his finger.
Saul pulls him aside and whispers so the villagers don’t hear: “That’s a signet ring. Nobles use them to identify themselves, sort of like heraldry but more subtle. You’d better cover that up.”
Rabbit, entirely too drunk for this conversation: “Shut the fuck up, Saul! Come and have a drink you scrawny fuck!” He drags him off to dance, signet ring still shining bright on his finger.
The dancing stops abruptly just a few minutes later when one of the villagers comes running back from the latrine, torch in hand. There’s fear in his eyes and it seeps into his voice as he yells:
“Help! There’s someone drowned in the latrine!”
The merchant is the one who drowned in that squalid pit. Rabbit suggests raising his body from the latrine with shovels. He makes sure the edge of his shovel cuts into the man’s throat, masking the fact that the cut was there before, from his dagger rather than his shovel.
Landyn: “Shit. Looks like we aren’t getting paid for escorting him all this way.”
Kale spits through his teeth, then he wipes his mouth and speaks: “Fucking merchants. We take care of him like a baby all this time just for him to die like an idiot.”
Landyn, really frustrated: “Yeah… Well, what can you do?” The real reason for his frustration is that Rabbit was too stupid to push the corpse further down into the latrine with a stick to hide it at least until morning.
Eagle Eye: “I guess we’ll have to return to Treblin Fort to get our pay from the bailiff for killing those goblins, then we’ll see where the road takes us. Right, captain?”
Landyn: “Right. But we’ll come back for Treblin’s head once we’ve got a full purse.”
—That same night, Iselbaum Palace, Count Treblin’s new chambers—
The Count is quietly enjoying his victory, sipping on red wine and staring into the fire like it held answers to his troubled mind.
Victory is usually where stories end, but life goes on. He has to disband his army now. Send the conscripts home. Pay the mercenaries to piss off so they don’t stick around to plunder his lands.
Then he has to convene the councillors who stayed behind. See who still has loyalty to Duke Iselbaum and get rid of them. Replace the open spots with new capable men. Send word to the dysfunctional King’s Court to inform them of the change in leadership, then wait for a reply that will undeniably request even more money than his army cost him.
‘Money, money, money… If only money could make everything right in this world. I can always make more money. But money can’t buy me that bastard’s head on a platter…’
He takes another sip of wine but chokes on it as a knock at the door startles him.
“My liege, I am a messenger from the Chamberlain of Treblin Fort!”
He wipes his mouth and rests his hand on the pommel of his sword leaning against the imposing armchair which he sits in. He announces in his booming voice with which he always addresses those of lower status:
“Come in!”
The messenger takes only two steps past the door then stops. He removes his hat and presses it to his chest as he bows in polite greeting.
“What do you have to report at this late hour? I assume it is urgent.” The Count says.
“Y-yes, my liege. The Chamberlain of Treblin Fort has sent me to report that there was a forest fire near your estate. Before it could be extinguished, it burned down three homesteads and a mill which were all inside Felshin village and thus property of the Fort. The only casualties were two pigs which could not be evacuated, and a work horse which broke its leg while ferrying water to the fire.”
“So, the Chamberlain deems this to be urgent news?”
“There is more, my liege. Reports say that Duke Iselbaum has run away to his relatives in the west, and that they are calling men to arms. They are massing close to Treblin Fort.”
The Count throws the expensive glass into the fireplace. The glass shatters and the wine sizzles while his mouths shouts like hellfire: “THAT RAT FUCKING BASTAAARD! I ONLY ASKED HIM FOR A FUCKING DUEL! BUT THE COWARD HAD TO INSTEAD HIDE BEHIND AN ARMY!” he is now pacing around the room. After taking a breath to calm down he continues: “And now, after I defeated his army, he runs away to gather another army?! The gall! Now I have to cut down another thousand men or so to try and reach him, but guess what? He’s going to run away again! I’m sure of it! But I can’t just ignore an army! And what’s better, I’m getting ready to be besieged while my mill is a pile of smoldering ash! I’ll have to import so much fucking bread! Gods damn it all!”
The messenger twitched with every shout and he recoiled every time spit escaped from the Count’s mouth like from a dog’s bark. Sheepishly, he tries to continue his duty:
“M-my liege.”
“What!”
“Th-There’s more-”
“Fuck! …Go on.”
“As I was leaving the Fort yesterday morning, I passed by refugees from Suchin village. It appears that Duke Iselbaum has already burned it down and probably captured the weaponsmith…”
The messenger is frozen in place as the Count heaves like a mad bull getting ready to charge.
“RAT FUCKING BASTAAAAAAAAARD!!!” He kicks the armchair so hard that it tumbles across the room. Then he turns to the messenger who flinches away in fear, but the Count does not hit him: “Go and wake everyone up! Tell them we ride back to Treblin Fort!”
