Table of Contents – (spoilers)
With only a few hours until daylight, there was no question of anyone getting any more sleep that night. Even so, the squad were able to relax a little as they washed and mended their bloody and torn clothes. Then they took their time cooking and consuming breakfast. As they did, they talked over the night’s attack, discussing what had gone well and what they could have done better.
“One thing, man,” Peep said to Knuckle. “These bushpigs might be working with almost nothing, but they know how to work what they have. They can shoot. We’ve seen that. Ye need to be smarter with yar moves, big man. Especially when ye aint armored. Stick to cover and use that bow of yars.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Knuckle muttered.
“About that, should we have gone to bed armored last night, do you think?” Choke asked.
“Well, I dunno. Can ye get any decent rest in mail?” Peep asked him.
Choke shook his head. “No. It’s too heavy and restrictive. Wearing it all day is tough enough, even though we have been trained to it. But we have to get a rest without its burden.”
“Well, there’s yar answer, then” Peep said. “We’re out here on the long haul. They can spring a raid any time of any day. Ye need yar rest. Aint gonna be good for shit if ye don’t get that. We just gotta be careful.”
“It would be helpful if the fuckin town was secure,” Pinch said.
“No doubt,” Choke agreed. “I think that is our first priority.”
“Yeah? And how ye gonna bring Lieutenant Dixon to heel?” Peep asked.
“Dixon,” Knuckle chortled. “Dick’s son is more like it!”
“Yes, but aren’t we all, in a manner of speaking?” Pinch laughed.
“Hey, speak for yarself!” Peep exclaimed.
“What, just because ye never knew yar father, it don’t mean ye didn’t start out by shooting outta his dick into yar mom. None of us know what dick we come from! Scum of the earth, all of us!” Knuckle laughed loud.
“Yeah, that may be. But I aint no one’s son, now am I?” Peep said.
“Oh, right. Yar a girl. I forget that sometimes,” Knuckle said, his humor fading as his face ponderously shifted to perturbed.
“Well, dick’s daughter doesn’t have the same ring to it. And it doesn’t match the whole premise of the joke. Anyways, what were we talking about?” Pinch asked.
“Dixon. Of the local lieutenant variety,” Choke said, not looking too unamused himself.
“Right. So, if the goal is to secure the village properly, how are you going to bring him to heel?” Pinch asked Choke.
“Well, if I can legally secure the position of magistrate’s apparitor, then I can pressure him that way. With these being times of peace, he is duty-bound to help the magistrate keep the peace.”
“Ye think he’s gonna be into that?” Peep asked.
“I could care less what he is into. He is an officer of the King’s army, and as such, he will be held accountable for any dereliction of duty. One way or another,” Choke said.
“Well, okay then,” Peep said. “I’m sure that’s gonna be a really fun conversation. But, at present, ye aint the apparitor here. And faking it for the peasants aint the same thing as trying to bully the soldier boss with a bluff.”
“I know it. I think for now we should attempt to shame him into doing his duty. And we must work on Barrelmender,” Choke said.
“Okay. Is that the agenda for today, then?” Pinch asked.
Choke looked pensive.
“Not Barrelmender,” Knuckle interjected. “His slut said that he was getting shitfaced drunk last night, right? Ye don’t wanna be pestering him today.”
“Good point,” Pinch said. “It would probably be best to give him a few days to get used to the whole notion. Also, Shasta will probably be working on him about it. We should see what she says if she comes around like she said she would.”
“Shasta,” Choke sighed. “I had managed to forget about that one. I do not like this situation.”
“Obviously. But what are we supposed to do about it?” Pinch said.
“We leave her be and let her do her thing,” Peep said. “At least until we can get Barrelmender to pretend to give a shit, if nothing else. She aint our fuckin concern. And until he does pull his head outta his ass, she’s the one we need to give us legit access to the church here. Like it or not, she’s the face of Stronianism around here.”
“That’s fucked up,” Pinch laughed.
“Sure. But it’s still how it is,” Peep finished.
Choke nodded in resignation.
After breakfast, Peep held her hands out in front of her and gave her fingers a wiggle.
“Yup! I feel the healing powers of Stron in my palms again! Praise Stron! He does take good care of us!” she said with a wide grin.
“Okay. So that means your Lay-On-Hands healing, as well as your Flaming Hands must recharge themselves at dawn,” Choke said.
“Cool! I should burn up fools more often, then!” Peep laughed.
“Well I hardly think that is necessary. May we be healed, Peep?” Choke asked, gesturing to Pinch.
Peep nodded. She quickly healed up Pinch’s arrow wound to the chest, and Choke’s cut on his thigh.
“Minor! I’d say there’s still a good dose of healing left in these hands of mine,” Peep proclaimed, rubbing her palms together.
“Well, let’s hope we don’t need it. Still, a blessing for us. This morning would have been a much darker one without His healing. We should pray and give thanks,” Choke said.
All four of them went into the church and knelt before the altar with their blades drawn. Choke led the prayer:
“Lord Stron, thank you for your victory last night against the raiders. And thank you for your divine healing within the holy brands in Otilla’s palms. Please give us strength to continue our fight to spread your Word in this troubled land. We shall strive to be worthy of your gifts. Amen!”
The prayer done, Knuckle and Choke mucked out the church stable while Pinch and Peep went across the square to the village stables to check on their animals. Out in front, the stablemaster was having a jaw with the blacksmith, the tavernkeeper, and the general store keeper, with a half dozen of their various lads in attendance. Their mood appeared dark and troubled as they talked in low voices. They shut up immediately upon seeing Pinch and Peep approaching.
“Morning!” Pinch said brightly. “How did you sleep last night, Stadnick?” he asked the stablemaster, whom they had met the night before.
“Just fine, I suppose.”
“That’s good. That’s good. I was worried the ruckus last night would have disturbed you,” Pinch said, his tone still friendly.
Stadnick stared back at him deadpan. The tavernkeeper, blacksmith, and general store keeper started drifting away.
“Oh, don’t leave on our account!” Pinch said. “At least not until I’ve had a chance to introduce ourselves to you, the most important citizens of Bristlehump. I am Nikolas, of the Brothers of the Holy Stone school of Pekot. This is Otilla. Our two fellows at the church are Theodas, who you met last night, Stadnick, and Bartholomew.”
Pinch then went around and offered his hand to the business owners, collecting their names in turn as he shook their hands. Otto, the big, burly blacksmith, did his best to crush Pinch’s hand, but was unable to manage it. Though he was small in stature, Pinch had a fighter’s grip.
“Bartholomew, ye say?” Otto said, puffing himself up. “He’s the jink who was parading around here yesterday dressed as a raven, aint he?”
“That he is,” Pinch said.
Behind him and just a little off to the side, Peep had been standing in a bored posture. She had her wolfhead cloak on, with the head down, and her shortbow case and quiver on her back. As Otto the blacksmith made his observation about Choke, she shifted her stance just a little as she pushed the cloak back behind her shortsword scabbard on her left hip. She grabbed the scabbard with her left hand to angle the weapon’s beautiful, steel hilt out for an easy draw. Then she spat on the ground between her and Otto.
“Yeah, that’s my friend,” she said quietly.
Otto looked for a second like he was going to laugh at Peep. This tiny woman, almost half his height and a third his weight, attempting to intimidate him! Then some lucid part of his brain raised a doubt. That part that had somehow remained unthrottled by testosterone and the instincts developed from years of successful bullying of people like her. Whatever it was, Otto’s self-preservation kicked in just in time. He looked at her again and realized that she was set to kill him where he stood.
“What?” Otto stammered.
“Bartholomew. The jink parading as a raven, as ye put it. He’s my friend,” Peep said. “Ye got anything smart ye wanna say about that, big man?”
Otto looked away from Peep’s steady gaze and around his fellows for support. All he found was awkward shuffling and downturned eyes. He now wished that he had not, just the previous night, told them over drinks that he was in no way afraid of this so-called Otilla of the Holy Fire, and would be happy to bend her over a haybale to fuck some sense into her, if only she gave him the excuse.
“I asked ye a question, blacksmith. D’ye got anything else to say?” Peep said.
Otto turned back on her. Peep’s right hand now hovered over the hilt of her shortsword. She dropped the tip of her middle finger down to touch the very end of it.
“I didn’t think so. So let me get something straight with all of ye,” Peep said, looking the men over. “Bartholomew is the one that keeps me under control. If it was up to me, I’d split any one of ye open like a fuckin trout for even looking at us sideways. So ye’d best be grateful to that man and his peaceful sensibilities. And, if I were you, I’d keep a civil tongue in my head about him moving forward. There’s worse things in the night than a few hicks trying to steal horses. All kinds of ill shit can happen. People go to sleep and wake up with their throat cut. Or on fire. So be smart.”
The village businessmen and their lads were all now staring at the ground in profound fear. Pinch looked to Peep and mouthed, “what the fuck?” to her.
“Speaking of ill shit happening in the night, Nikolas, why don’t ye tell these gentlemen the good news?” Peep asked Pinch brightly as she relaxed her posture out of her fighting stance.
“The good news?” Pinch asked.
“Yeah. About what happened last night.”
“Oh, right. That good news. Okay, so, anyways, last night four men came through the north gate and tried to steal our horses,” Pinch said, pausing for effect.
The men tensed expectantly as they waited to hear the results of this.
“It didn’t go well for them,” Peep cut in. “One of them did get away. Their lookout and horse minder.”
“And the other three?” Bill Cornmasher, the general store keeper, eventually asked.
“They’re laid out in the churchyard,” Peep said with a happy grin.
“Ye killed them? All three?” Stadnick exclaimed.
“Yeah, fucking rights we did. That’s what we do to bandits. And horse thieves in the night aint nothing but bandits. Right?” Peep asked all the men.
None of them had an answer for her.
“So. About that,” Peep clapped her hands once and rubbed her palms together. “Seeing as our horses are of such interest to the bad boys in these parts, we thought we should check on our animals in yar stables, Stadnick,” Peep said to the stable keeper.
“What?” Stadnick startled.
“Our horse and mule. They weren’t stollen out from under yar care last night, were they? It would be real unfortunate for ye if they were,” Peep said quietly.
“No! They’re safe and sound!” the man stammered.
“Good. Good. Let’s go and see that they are, shall we? I suppose the rest of ye gentlemen have important shit to do. Don’t let us keep ye,” Peep said, dismissing the men as she began herding Stadnick and his two lads into their stables.
Betsy the mule and Pinch’s riding horse were right where they were supposed to be.
“See? Safe and sound! Just as I said!” Stadnick exclaimed plaintively.
“Good. See to it they stay that way,” Peep said. “By the way, I forgot: how long did we pay to keep them stabled?”
“One week.”
“Okay. That’s seems a little short term, now. If we were to keep them here on a monthly basis, and have ye supply the church stable with straw and feed for the three horses there, what kinda better rate could ye give us? I mean, we oughta get a discount on something longer term like that, right?” Peep asked mildly.
“Well, yes, of course, but our weekly rates are already—” Stadnick began, before Peep interrupted him:
“They’re yar weekly rates. Ye need to think it over. I understand. No worries. But it seems we’ve got a horse for sale this morning, so ye can think about how much ye can give us for that in trade. On a reasonable monthly rate. Ye think it over real careful and let us know when we bring ye the horse later. Good man,” Peep said as she reached up to give Stadnick a comforting pat on the shoulder.
On the way back across the square Pinch chuckled.
“Well, that wasn’t very nice of you, was it? We’re not gonna win over any folk around here like that,” he said.
“In case ye haven’t noticed, we aint winning these folk over anyways. Who cares if they hate us, just as long as they fear us.”
Choke and Knuckle had finished mucking out the stalls, so all four of them stood around in the yard looking at the three dead bodies.
“So, what do you want to do next?” Choke asked the group.
“Well, we wanted to start working on the soldiers today, right?” Pinch said. “So, I guess we could go up to the watchtower and start fucking with Corporal Munge and his boys.”
“Yes, we could. But I was thinking about opening up the church doors and ringing the church bell. Then see who shows up and figure things out from there,” Choke said.
“That could work. What’s our posture, though?” Pinch asked.
“Well, that we are here in the church to stay. That last night four men attacked us. That we have three of their bodies here and their people have until tomorrow morning to come and claim them. If no one does, we’ll bury them in the graveyard here.”
“Okay, sounds tight,” Peep said. “But what if Barrelmender shows up all pissed off that we’re ringing his bell?”
“Well, then, I’d say that he’d be showing some good spirit that I am sure we could convince him to put to good use,” Choke said, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
“Okay, I like it,” Peep said. “So, who gets to ring the bell?”
Peep, Pinch, and Knuckle all played rock, paper, scissors for the honor, while Choke went to unbar and open the church’s big double doors. The bell up in the steeple could be rung with a rope that dangled down through a hole in the ceiling above the altar. Peep won the contest in the second round against Knuckle after Pinch had been eliminated in the first. She set to ringing the bell with a manic glee.
Ringing the bell for a good five minutes brought the merchants and their lads of the village square that Peep and Pinch had just spoken to, along with about a dozen women and children. Of the old women they had seen the day before at their leisure in the square, only one appeared. She sat down on her bench and scowled at them across the square.
None of the folk came into the church, and instead milled around in the square expectantly. So with the squad flanking him, Choke stood on the front steps in his black robes with his longsword sheathed at his side and addressed them from there:
“Good people of Bristlehump! In case you don’t know, I am Bartholomew. This is Theodas and Nikolas. All three of us are recent graduates of the Brothers of the Holy Stone school in Pekot. This is Otilla of the Holy Fire, who was blessed with a Holy Possession of an agent of the Holy Host in her baptism in Callic. We are all here to help Brother Cornelius Barrelmender in his duties as parish priest and magistrate of Bristlehump.
“Last night, four men attacked us in an attempt to steal our horses. We defended ourselves. One escaped, and the other three now lie dead in the churchyard behind. When I am finished my address, you may all go to look at them.
“I would have it known to their people that they have until tomorrow morning to come and claim their bodies. They need fear no punishment or reprisals in doing so. They shall be perfectly safe to come and go, so long as they conduct themselves peacefully.
“If by tomorrow morning any bodies remain unclaimed, we shall give them a proper Stronian burial in the common grave of the cemetery. We would appreciate any help any of you may give in getting word to their people. We have no interest in compounding their sorrows. Thank you!” Choke finished with a deep nod to the small crowd.
The folk, who had all been silent during the address, now filed around the side of the church to view the bodies in an orderly procession. Choke and the others went back through the church and out the kitchen door to greet them out back. The attitude of the people ranged from mild interest to silent hostility, with most of them being somewhere in the middle. No one said a word. After just a few minutes, the squad were all alone at the church again.
“Well, that coulda gone a lot worse,” Knuckle said.
“No doubt,” Pinch agreed. “Do you think anyone that matters is heading here from further away?”
“Well, Lieutenant Dixon was probably balls deep in hoor when he heard the bell, so he could take a little while to show up,” Peep said.
“He will probably head up here, but will be sure to take his time so as not to appear summoned. Whatever excuses he gives,” Choke said.
“And Barrelmender?” Pinch asked.
Choke shrugged. “Who knows. I expect not. We should expect Shasta here at some point today, though.”
“So are we gonna go fuck with the corporal at the watchtower,” Pinch asked.
Choke shook his head. “No. We rang the bell. We have to stay here to see who comes. And I am not about to do anything to swell that asshole’s sense of self-importance.”
“So we just chill at the church, then,” Knuckle said happily. “Maybe we should go buy a barrel of beer from the tavern!”
“We are not going to be drinking, or otherwise falling into sloth. If we are here to occupy the church, then we must begin to care for it. Let’s start by cleaning up the cemetery. It is completely overgrown with weeds. It needs tending. That shall be the first order of business,” Choke said.
“Yeah. Great,” Knuckle said bitterly. “Ye know, Choke, them robes suit ye. Yar working us half to death just like any of the brothers at the school!”
“Why Knuckle, thank you! I do believe that is the nicest thing you have ever said to me!” Choke said with a grin.
Muse Vassal 