Table of Contents – (spoilers)
Back at the church, the squad did their best to avoid Barrelmender as they processed what had happened to Rodolf. The Brother of the Holy Stone had warned them he would be drinking and praying in the church that day. This turned out to involve a great deal more enraged shouting, hysterical screaming, and maniacal cackling than one would normally expect with prayer. Fortunately, Barrelmender spent his time almost exclusively in the church (when he was not pissing in its yard).
It was a nice afternoon, so the squad set themselves up in the graveyard as though at camp, with their saddles and bedrolls as seats. They continued to drink ale and smoke weed as they fiddled with their gear and tried to relax.
“Something is going to have to be done for those people,” Choke eventually said.
“Who?” Peep asked.
“The peasants! Rodolf’s bunch!”
Peep scowled as she contemplated this, but it was Pinch who first responded:
“Ye think they’re gonna be real keen on getting help from us? What is it ye think we can do for them?”
“I don’t know. Some money, at least,” Choke said miserably.
“Fuck that,” Knuckle said.
“Yeah. No doubt,” Peep agreed. “Ye gotta change yar thinking on this right now, Choke.”
“And why must I do that?” Choke snapped.
“Because yar our apparitor now. Yar the law. And the law can’t piss about worrying about that kinda shit,” Peep said.
“Oh, is that so?”
“Yes. It is. What is it that yar taking on here, man? That it’s our fault that all that shit happened to them? Because it aint. They helped bandits try to kill us. That’s what got them in the shit. That’s it.”
“But Rodolf was killed because he talked to us. Because he gave evidence,” Choke persisted.
“Yeah, and he did that because he was too fuckin weak to try and call our bluff on us pressing the bitch with what we had on her.”
“So he died because he was protecting that woman from us,” Choke said bitterly.
“If ye wanna think about it that way, sure. Look, man, them folk were fucked, one way or another, as soon as them bandits set up by their place. They can’t say no to them, especially not with the Lieutenant sticking his beak in. Then they get stuck in the middle, because they have what we need. And being the peasants that they are, they’re the ones to get fucked. That’s the way it is. Sucks to be them. That’s the law. Rodolf knew it. He died to unfuck his people. A good man, and I’m sure he’ll be well-remembered by them. Now we move on,” Peep said.
“And do you think anyone around is going to want to give us evidence going forward?” Choke asked
“Probably not. But when did they ever? When does anybody want to give evidence? What they will know around here, sure as fuck now, is that helping bandits against us is a bad fucking idea.”
Choke kept his peace then, scowling at a nearby gravestone. Eventually, Pinch spoke up:
“So, we are the law now. We have our evidence against Dixon. What do we do with that?”
“I don’t know,” Peep said. “I mean, we aint got enough to go and kill him, right?”
“What? No!” Choke snapped. “And that is not what we do! If Barrelmender issues us an arrest warrant, then we can act upon it. But he has issued no such warrant!”
“Right. Like I said,” Peep smirked sideways at Pinch and Knuckle.
“Well, I thought the plan was to use our evidence to muscle him into doing what we want. What he have on him should be enough to screw up his career, right?” Pinch asked.
“One would hope,” Choke responded. “My fear is that with the situation being what it is, with the Baron taking the goblin trouble very seriously, I do not think any superiors in Spitzer would care enough about this to take any real action. They need all their men. At best, this may only hurt his chances of promotion.”
“So, we threaten him with it and see what he does, or keep it in our pocket for now. See what more we can dig up,” Pinch said.
“That seems to be our two options,” Choke said.
“Why play a card if ye don’t have to?” Peep said. “He already has to do what ye say now, right? That’s the deal with this apparitor business, aint it?”
“Yes, it is. More or less. His duty is to help me in times of peace, since I am now a legal agent of the magistrate. However, I do not outrank him. I am not his superior. But, in peace time, Barrelmender is.”
“Okay, so ye can’t push it too far. But I think it’s time to give him a good shove, yeah?” Peep said.
“I think so,” Choke said, his dark mood focusing to an edge.
“Ye know,” Pinch said, thoughtfully, “it aint like he’s only been a piece of shit in helping the Outfit set up on us. He has been completely derelict in his duty. How many soldiers did he say he has here?”
Choke snapped his fingers and smiled at Pinch. “You are right! He said thirty, didn’t he?”
“Yeah, that’s what he told us,” Pinch said.
“Which is just the right number to garrison such a community, I would think. But how many soldiers have we seen? About ten, yes? Including his Sergeant Wagner and Corporal Munge,” Choke said.
“Yeah, it’s about that many,” Peep said. “And he meant to come at us hard today, so ye’d think he’d bring everybody he had.”
“Well, that’s a lot less than thirty,” Choke said. Something occurred to him and he looked Gabe’s way. The lad was snoozing in the sunshine, enjoying his ale and weed buzz.
“Gabe!” Choke said.
When Gabe did not rouse, Knuckle jostled him lightly:
“Hey! Wake up, dumbass!”
“What?” Gabe asked sitting up blearily.
“How many soldiers are there here in Bristlehump?” Choke asked.
“What?”
“How many soldiers does Lieutenant Dixon have? Do you know? Is it thirty.”
Gabe thought about this for a long moment before shaking his head. “No. No way. Thirty? Nah. We saw all of them today. I’m pretty sure.”
“Okay, thank you, Gabe. As you were,” Choke said.
Gabe nodded and unsteadily got to his feet to go to the outhouse.
“Okay, so, Dixon tells us he has thirty men, which is exactly how many one would expect him to have, when he, in fact, has only ten. So, what is going on here?” Choke asked.
“It’s a pay scam, right? Gotta be,” Pinch said.
“Oh, shit! No doubt! He’s keeping their pay! But… then… where’s the soldiers?” Knuckle asked.
“That is the question,” Choke said. “He could not be drawing pay for them unless they actually existed at some point.”
“Unless someone higher up is in on it,” Pinch said.
“Yeah, that works,” Peep agreed. “Or, ye just pay them to fuck off, or ye have somebody run them off. Munge, no doubt. It’s a good scam. That’s how Horsecock got his start, ye know.”
“The bandit?” Pinch asked.
“Ye know a lot of other guys called Horsecock?” Peep laughed. “Yeah, the bandit. I heard him brag about it one night. He started out as a soldier, and his boss, officer, I guess, had him really beat the shit outta the other soldiers. Then they’d take them out on patrols to the bush and let them run off. The boss would keep their pay and give Horsecock and the others a cut.”
“That hardly seems like the sort of thing that can last,” Choke said.
“Well, I guess yar right, because Horsecock wound up in the bush as a bandit with me cutting his throat for bounty,” Peep said cheerfully.
“Good point. But what is Dixon’s plan? Surely he isn’t stupid enough to think he can get away with this for long,” said Choke.
“Who says he aint? Ye keep crediting people with your kinda thought and caution, Choke. The guy takes his breakfasts at a hoorhouse. How much d’ye think he’s got on his mind beyond getting enough money to keep that happening?” Peep said.
“Probably more than you credit him for, Peep. He speaks as an educated man. He’s an officer in the King’s army. He must have some sort of contingency plans,” Choke said.
“Well, I guess if someone who matters pops in, he just says all his men are out on patrol, like he did with us,” Pinch said. “Then, if they push him on it, he could pay some rubes to stand around with some gear and look like soldiers. Or, he tells them that the lads just ran off and he hadn’t reported it yet.”
“And he thinks he’ll get away with that?”
“I don’t know. There’d be some discipline, wouldn’t there? But, how bad could it be? Maybe he can just cut somebody in on it and have them look the other way,” said Pinch.
“One would hope not. Be all that as it may, he clearly does not have all the men he should. If we press him on it, he may fold. At very least, it will be more evidence of his corruption,” Choke said.
“Well, what is it we want from this fuckin guy anyways?” Peep said. “The guy is fucked. He’s not gonna unfuck himself just because we threaten him. At best, he’ll pretend to be a good boy and then try to backstab us the first chance he gets. And if we turn him, how are we gonna trust anything he says? Especially if Barrelmender can’t suss out lies with spells.”
Peep let these thoughts sit with everyone for a while before she finished with the realization she had just come to:
“Dixon is of no fuckin use to us.”
“Agreed,” Choke said.
“But he is plenty dangerous. This guy could be a real problem,” Pinch said.
“He has already,” Knuckle said.
“Good point. Fucker needs to go,” Peep said darkly. She made a shushing gesture as Gabe came stumbling back to them from the outhouse.
“Hey, Gabe!” Peep said. “How ye holding out? Thought we had a man down in the crapper there! Don’t tell me yar a lightweight when it comes to smoke and drink! Say it aint so, laddy!”
“I’m fine, Miss Otilla! I can hold it just fine! I was just giving birth to a foreman in there!” Gabe came back at her.
They all had a laugh at this quip.
“Okay, then. Good man! Good man. Why don’t ye go and see about getting us a jug from Bob. Here, this oughta cover it!” Peep dug out her coin pouch and flicked Gabe a big copper.
Gabe failed to catch the toss, and had to take a minute to locate the coin. Then he gave the squad a sloppy salute and shuffled off around the side of the church, heading to Bob Cornmasher’s general store.
“We are not getting smashed on potato wine today,” Choke said.
“Well, Mr Apparitor Bartholomew, that all depends on who ye talk to, now doesn’t it?” Peep said with a smirk. “How many swigs d’ye think it’ll take to put young Gabe down for today and tonight? Two? Three? And d’ye think he’s gonna notice if that jug aint any lighter when it comes back around to him after we all take our pass?”
“Okay, I see what you’re thinking. But, why? We are not killing Dixon,” Choke said quietly.
“Who says we aren’t? I think, what ye meant to say, Mr Apparitor, is that we aren’t gonna murder him. Killing is another thing entirely, right? Especially if he comes at us and forces us to defend ourselves. Right? I mean, the guy is bent. He comes at us, we take him down clean. Right?” Peep asked.
“If he tries to kill us, we shall defend ourselves. Surely. But he is not going to do that,” Choke said.
“Yeah, he hasn’t made any moves like that, yet. Why would he now? He doesn’t seem that stupid,” Pinch said.
“He aint been anywhere near desperate yet, right? We gotta make him believe that we’re gonna end him. Legal like. And then we go ahead and try to do that. He either comes at us and we kill him, or he doesn’t and we get him gone by finking him out to Spitzer,” said Peep.
“I think you meant to say, ‘by legal means,’ Peep,” Choke said.
“Same thing, right?” Peep laughed.
“Okay, so what’s the play?”
“Tonight, I’m gonna see what I can do about getting us another witness. Or, at least, making Dixon think we have one. Then, tomorrow, Choke: yar gonna confront Dixon. Yar gonna call him out on everything we have. Show him Barrelmender’s paper from Rodolf. Tell him we know about his pay scam and that we have a witness on that. Tell him we’re gonna report him to Spitzer. Then, the morning after next, we ride on outta here to do that.”
“And?” Pinch asked.
“Sure as shit him, and probably Sneed and whoever else, will set up an ambush for us on the Spitzer road.”
“Okay. And then what?”
“And then we do what we do to bushwhackers,” Peep said as she leaned back on her bedroll and saddle with a happy grin.
***
Peep was right about Gabe. It only took a few swigs of Cornmasher’s potato wine for him to pass out again. It was mid-afternoon by this time, and the squad were pretty loose themselves. Peep took a big drink of well water and waited to piss that out before she got to business.
She took a moment to contemplate the freshly filled in graves in the communal plot before shaking her head and turning her attention to Choke and the others.
“So, whad’ye figure the chances are that our Lieutenant Dixon, horny and lazy prick that he is, is gonna be a good boy and stay here to keep the town secure with all his men?” Peep asked.
“Not likely. He’ll probably head to Tully’s, as usual. What are you thinking?” Pinch asked.
“Not sure yet. I’m gonna go have a scout and see what I can see. Ye boys chill out here. Just be ready to jump if ye hear a racket over at the watchtower. Right?”
“Please, Peep, whatever you are thinking, do not kill Dixon,” Choke said.
“I aint going after him. Don’t ye worry. I’m just going to have a little look-see. But ye never know, so be ready,” Peep said. She then contemplated her shortbow and quiver shoulder rig leaning against her saddle and bedroll. There was no question it would be good to have, but it would make being sneaky in tight quarters much more difficult. She decided against bringing it. With it being as warm as it was, she also decided to leave behind her wolfhead cloak.
Peep gave the lads a cheeky salute and left outfitted in her brigandine vest and bracers, with her shortsword and buck knife on her belt.
On the previous Monday, while the lads had scrubbed the church clean on what Knuckle and Pinch had hoped would be a hangover day, Peep had scouted the village and its surrounding area on foot. This had given her a good sense of the place.
Bristlehump Village was not a big place, but its houses and cottages were tightly packed with narrow lanes and alleys. The one exception to this was the wider lane that ran between the north and south gates with the village square at the center. Near the north gate was the tall, wooden watchtower. Next to that was what ought to have been the garrison barracks: a bigger stone building with a small stables. It also had a bit of a yard where, theoretically, soldiers could parade.
Peep did not leave the church yard into the village square. Rather, she went to the rear wall of the cemetery and climbed over it into a narrow alley between a couple of buildings. It was afternoon, but the village folk were all busy with their affairs and it was not difficult to avoid them as she moved slowly and quietly through the village.
Peep wanted to observe the watchtower garrison, but she had no intention of doing so from within the village. There were no suitable hiding places that would give her a good view of the place. Rather, Peep moved to get out of the village’s palisade unobserved.
To do this, Peep crossed the main lane to the south of the village square and moved to the east side of the palisade at the bank of the Bristle Creek. There, the bank had been built up with rocks, boulders, and gravel in order to support the rudimentary fortification. However, as with everything else martial in Bristlehump, things had been slipping. The bank had eroded in places, and one such spot had undermined the palisade. The earth the logs had been put into had washed away. The logs remained, supported by the lashings to their neighbors, but the line of the palisade sagged there. It had been this sag which had first attracted Peep’s eye. Under this spot, the earth had been further removed to create a narrow passage under the palisade where villagers would squeeze through to get access to the creek.
Peep took a moment to make sure there was no one at the creek before she slid under the palisade to its bank. Along the opposite bank was the rutted track to Bristlenook, deeply scored by the lumber skids that used it. Beyond that was bush. Peep had a look around and could see no one. The track was deserted, and the freight yard to the south was around the bend of the palisade. She dashed through the creek and into the bush across the track.
Now in the bush, Peep took her time working her way north. She again crossed the Bristle Creek and clambered up the bank and the hump to the north of the village. As with much of the area around, the forest had long since been cleared, and had regrown into scrubby brush with juvenile trees and stands of stunted conifers.
The top of the hump behind Bristlehump had a good, wide trail that ran north up what would become a ridge between the Bristle and Cowslip creeks. To either side of the ridge trail were smaller ones that mostly went down either side to the respective ravines. The area in front of the palisade had once been properly cleared, but the forest had been allowed to encroach. To either side of the trail from the north gate, the bush was rather tight. Peep had no problem working her way right to the palisade at a spot behind the stone garrison building.
Had there been anyone in the watchtower, or up on the walkway above the gate, they might easily have spotted Peep. Of course, no soldiers were so stationed, although Peep did spare the time to make sure of that from proper cover before moving in.
Peep was able to get into some bushes near the gate and almost right against the palisade. Had she wanted to, she probably could have peeked through the cracks between many of the logs. However, Peep did not want to be so exposed, and contented herself to listen as she lay down in total cover under the bushes.
For a couple of hours, there was not anything significant to hear. There were obviously soldiers there in the yard, but it was hard to tell how many, and their conversations were quiet, as though they were trying not to be overheard. This went on until early evening, when Peep could hear some horses being brought out of the stables. Then, Lieutenant Dixon’s clear voice rang out across the yard:
“Well, Corporal, it seems that’s all the drama we’ll have for today. We’ll be at Tully’s if you need us. Although, it had better be important if you disturb us.”
“Yeah, for sure, LT. I’d hate to keep ye from yar important business there,” Munge’s acerbic voice replied.
“Corporal, I think I have had just about enough of your insolent, insubordinate attitude. Smarten up!”
“Oh, I am sorry, sir. Yes, sir! Pardon me for forgetting that we’re such a proper military unit around here, what with you and Sarge spending half yar waking days knee-deep in hoor. Sir!”
“I would remind you that you have not done so poorly yourself in this unit. That all can change for you rather easily. I do hope we don’t have a problem, Corporal.”
Munge did not reply verbally, but Peep was just close enough to actually hear his stugroot spit hit the dirt of the yard. Following this, there was the creaking of leather and hoof beats as the horses were mounted.
“You just watch yourself, Corporal!” Dixon snapped.
“Yes, sir! But if them ravens come up here looking to start shit, I aint taking that on! For you, or for nobody! No, sir!”
“They will do no such thing, Corporal. Bill said that lad of theirs came in and bought them two jugs. One for the priest and one for themselves. And that the lad could barely stand up when he did. Reeking of weed, no less. They have that lad on a tight leash. If they’re letting him get that stunned, then they’re tying one on themselves. They shall not be giving us any trouble tonight.”
“Glad yar so sure of that, sir,” Munge finished.
“I am. Now open the gate!” Dixon snapped.
“Right ye are, sir! Ye heard the man! Get that fuckin gate open!” Munge hollered.
The gate was unbarred and opened and Lieutenant Dixon rode out with his constant shadow, Sergeant Wagner. Peep risked a peek out of her bushes to make sure it was just the two of them, which it was. The two soldiers rode up the main trail at a trot, heading for another night of Tully’s delights.
“That motherfucker! I’m getting right sick of his bullshit,” Munge said once the gate was shut again. “If them church cunts are so wasted, then why the fuck doesn’t he just go take care of them?”
“They’re raven goons, man,” someone new answered. “We’re soldiers. We can’t fuck with them like that!”
“Fuck that. We should go up there, take them out, and claim the fucking Outfit gold on their heads. Then, fucking clip LT dicksuck and Wagner, take their purses and split into the Moondark hills. That’s what we should fuckin do!” Munge said emphatically.
“Yeah, well, after you, man. Why fuck everything up? We got things good here. Dixon knows what he’s doing. Playing both sides against the middle and getting all of us paid in the deal. Don’t fuck that up, man!”
“Paid? The fuck! That guy is dripping in pussy every fuckin day, and we’re pulling a few extra copper a week, and ye call that getting paid? Fuck. It’s time to make a fuckin move!” Munge spat again.
“Well, you go right fuckin ahead. I aint stopping ye!”
“Fuckin pussies,” Munge said. Things quieted down at the garrison then.
Having before taken a quick look around the small military compound, Peep had a good idea of where everything was there. When going in the north gate, to the immediate right was the base of the watch tower, with the parade yard between it and the main stone barracks building. To the side of that was the small stables. Behind the barracks, almost right up against the palisade, was a long, narrow outhouse. It had a decent roof and three or four doors, if Peep recalled.
With Lieutenant Dixon and Sergeant Wagner gone, everything was perfect.
Peep skulked through the bush away from the palisade and went slowly alongside the main trail for a few minutes. When she deemed she was far enough away from town, she began hunting for her first target. This she found in a tightly grown stand of tall, thin spruce trees. It was a standing dead spruce, about twenty centimeters wide at its base, located at the outside of the stand. It had moist and moss enough near its base to signal that it had been dead for some time. It was an easy matter for Peep to push it over with a crack as it separated from its roots. The tree had barely any branches up the side that had been facing the stand of its fellows, so Peep only had to clear the branches on the other by snapping them off or hacking the thicker ones with her buck knife.
This sort of tree is ideal for firewood, since they are easy to fell, limb, and buck. Of course, Peep had other intentions with it.
With a grunt, Peep hefted the thicker base of the tree onto her shoulder and dragged it back to the palisade. The very thin top of the tree soon broke off, but this was fine for her purpose. Of course, this left a clear trail behind her, but it could not be helped.
Peep reached the palisade just as the evening’s light was fading to proper darkness. She took some time carefully maneuvering her tree into position as quietly as she could, well-pleased with herself as she found it the perfect height. About twenty meters west of the gate, at where she estimated the outhouse was located, she placed the dirty butt of the spruce about three meters from the palisade wall. Then she walked the tree upright and carefully lowered it to lean against the palisade at an angle. In doing so, she positioned the tree so that the stumps of the branches she had removed were facing up, to be used like ladder rungs. Then, it was a simple matter to climb on up, with the very top of the tree delivering her within arm’s reach of the palisade top.
Peep took a moment to look over the top of the wall and gave herself another silent congratulation on her excellent spacial awareness. She was directly over the outhouse behind the stone barracks. Peep took her time then, listening carefully to be sure the outhouse was unoccupied. When she was reasonably sure that it was, she pulled herself up and carefully clambered over the palisade logs’ roughly sharpened tops. On the other side, she dangled one-handed from a point with one foot braced against the logs below. When she let go, she pushed off the wall and fell to land on the outhouse roof on hands and feet like a cat. This was not quiet. Peep froze where she was and waited for a response. There was none, so Peep crawled over to the corner of the roof nearest the front of the barracks.
On the shitter roof, Peep had a narrow view of the palisade wall to the gate, the base of the tower, and some of the parade yard. Even better for her, the soldiers had hung a lantern over the barracks door. This was out of her sight, but lit up the yard more than enough for her purposes. Peep now waited.
Over the next hour, three soldiers used the outhouse. As they came around the corner of the barracks, Peep could easily see who they were. None of them were her quarry, so she let them pass. Just when she was beginning to despair that Corporal Munge had already taken care of his nighttime business, he came around the corner. She clearly marked his face in the light of the lantern as he did.
As Munge went into the last outhouse stall, Peep pushed herself up from her prone position to a crouch, so that any noise she might make would be drowned out in the creak and bang of the door. Now crouched right at the corner of the roof, Peep drew her buck knife and waited.
Munge did what he had come to do, which turned out to be a piss, shit, and a wank. He was far noisier than he needed to be in all of this. Finally, though, he was finished. When he passed underneath Peep’s perch on his way back to bed, she dropped down upon him.
Peep landed hard on Munge’s back with both knees and plunged her knife to its hilt down into his torso at the base of his neck, just inside the collarbone. Munge collapsed with a deep grunt, face down on the ground. Peep grabbed his hair at the back of his head to push his face into the dirt, extracted her knife from him, and stabbed him again in the heart, going into his back right where her mentor, Olly, had taught her on pigs.
With Munge now thoroughly dead, Peep sheathed her knife. She crouched down low next to his corpse, got a good hold of an arm, and did some grunting herself as she rolled and wriggled and dragged his corpse up onto her back. This was not easy for her, but she was strong, and he had been a lanky fellow, so she managed it.
Then, with her burden bleeding upon her, Peep staggered back past the outhouse and around the rear of the barracks alongside the palisade wall, heading once more for the village’s tight lanes and alleys.
Muse Vassal 