Table of Contents – (spoilers)
Knuckle dragged Lieutenant Dixon out of Tully’s by the collar of his tunic and threw him down in the dirt of the road. Then he menaced him with his raised warhammer.
“Stay the fuck down, asshole! And take off yar weaponbelt!” Knuckle barked.
Dixon immediately complied with the command.
Peep came running out of the building just an instant before a large belch of flame roiled out of two of its open windows. The horses tethered out front began screaming.
“The horses!” Choke yelled. “Knuckle: stay with the prisoner! Peep! Pinch! With me!”
The four horses tethered nearest the fiery window were irretrievable, as in their panic they yanked the hitching post right out of the ground and dragged it off into the night together. Choke, Pinch, and Peep quickly ran down the veranda untethering the others. They were able to claim the Chisel’s beautiful black warhorse along with four others for themselves to ride. The horses were all saddled and ready to go. Pinch and Choke led the horses around the back of the building with Peep out in front with her shortbow at the ready. Knuckle followed, holding both his warhammer and Dixon’s sword and belt in his right hand while dragging Dixon along by his scruff with his left.
In the back yard, the kitchen lad and a woman in only a petticoat were opening up the pigpen to let the pigs out. At the stables, a barefooted man in just his britches was dragging a horse out. He mounted it bareback and lit out away from the squad along the creek towards Bristlehump. Peep shot him in the back and dropped him just before he escaped the light of the burning building. The horse ran on. With the pigs free and the only horse gone, the lad and woman ran off together into the night.
Tully’s was now fully alight and burning ferociously. It was good that the pigs had been freed, for the heat surely would have broiled them in their pen. Screams and yells could be heard from out front as the local cottage dwellers raised the alarm along with the women who had fled. The squad stopped at the creek’s edge and took a moment to collect themselves as they took in the spectacle of the burning brothel.
“Well that’s that, then,” Pinch said.
“Burn baby, burn,” Peep said, her eyes alight as they took in her handiwork.
“Peep. Pinch. Go get our gear,” Choke said, pointing just across the creek to their staging point. He then pulled a length of rope from his belt and bound Lieutenant Dixon’s hands in front of him. When he had done a good job of it, he pointed to the poorest of the five horses they had claimed.
“Mount up. We are taking you to Spitzer to answer for your crimes. Resist at all, and I am more than happy to take just your head. Understood?” Choke said.
Dixon looked like he might have something to say, but quickly reconsidered it and mounted up. Choke handed the reins to Knuckle and tied both of Dixon’s ankles securely to the stirrups.
“You know I will be dragged and trampled to death if I fall from the saddle,” Dixon said, his voice quavering.
“That’s okay. Don’t fall, then,” Choke said.
By the time he was done binding Lieutenant Dixon to his mount, Pinch and Peep had returned with the warbows, quivers, and lantern they had left at the creekside.
“Who d’ye reckon that dipshit ye shot off the horse was, Peep?” Knuckle asked her as they all mounted up.
“Probably one of the crew that was fucking when we bust in. That one hoor come out from the fuck rooms by herself, right? And then there was that hoor with the pigs. They musta jumped out the windows at the back here. There’s probably one more fucker around here somewhere.”
“One survivor to tell the tale. Perfect!” Pinch said with a grin.
Just then, an alarm bell began ringing up at town. It was loud and sustained.
“That is not the church bell,” Choke said. “Dixon: that would be the watchtower bell, yes?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How many men do you have up there?”
“I think you know that well enough! Can we please just get on with this?” Dixon snapped.
“Good point. Okay, there’s not more than ten soldiers up there, if that. We ride straight to the church up the road. Fast and hard. We get our horses, tell Gabe what has happened, and ride for Bristlehump on the main road before anyone can react. Any questions?” Choke said.
“The main road? Ye sure ye don’t wanna take the Tanglefoot? Probably safer,” Pinch said.
“Not at night, it isn’t. Not with a prisoner. Not when getting to the trailhead takes us directly towards Bristlenook and everyone up there. Yes?”
Realizing he was correct, Pinch nodded in agreement as Choke spoke.
“Now let’s move! Peep, Pinch you both ride in front. If anyone impedes us, or you spot anything, peel off to either side and loop back around to cover. Knuckle, you then dismount and keep hold of Dixon’s horse. I will charge from the rear if I deem it necessary,” Choke ordered.
Coming around the front of Tully’s into the road, Peep and Pinch rode first, with their bows in hand. Knuckle followed, leading Dixon’s horse by the reins. Choke took up the rear riding the Chisel’s black warhorse with his spear in hand like a lance. While not as marvelous as Nike, the horse was excellent.
There was a crowd of folk out in the road, enjoying the spectacle of Tully’s burning down. Many had buckets with them, but were not doing anything with them. With the building standing alone, and there not being any thick undergrowth beneath the well-spaced-out, mature trees, there was little to no chance of the fire spreading. No one made any attempt to impede the squad as they rode past. In the light of the fire, there was no doubt that they had a good look at them and Lieutenant Dixon.
Along the road to Bristlehump, they encountered more folk heading towards Tully’s with buckets, axes, picks, and shovels. Some of them had lanterns or torches, but most did not. It was fully dark by this time, so the squad had to take their time passing them carefully. They naturally bunched up into a tighter formation as they did, with Peep and Pinch collapsing back in front of Knuckle. These folks were all teamsters, lumberjacks, and their kin. Many of them startled at the sight of the squad with their prisoner, but none of them seemed overtly hostile and they gave them their space.
At Bristlehump, the south gate was wide open. A number of people were up on the walkway above, and many more in the street behind, mostly the elderly and children. The alarm bell atop the watchtower had finally stopped its ringing, so the lively babble of the crowd could be heard.
“What’s burning?” an elderly man barked at them from above as they rode on through.
“Tully’s, sir!” Pinch shouted up at him.
“Ah, fuck! I knew it! I fuckin knew ye ravens would kill fun around here! Fuck ye all for it!”
Peep, Knuckle, and Pinch all had a good laugh at this as they rode to the town square. This was crowded, too. The town merchants were gathered with their people, along with some villagers, standing mute as Brother Barrelmender stood upon the steps of his church and berated them for awakening him. Many in the crown had proper lanterns, so there was plenty of light to make out the ridiculous scene.
“You! What is the meaning of this!” Barrelmender stormed as he beheld the squad.
“We’ve killed the Chisel, burned down Tully’s, and arrested Lieutenant Dixon for his delinquency and crimes!” Peep proclaimed.
An audible groan arose from the assembled men in the crowd.
“Is that all? For this I am disturbed in the middle of the night by an infernal bell ringing in my damned ear for the better part of an hour!” Barrelmender roared, fully in command of his formidable bearing and voice.
“Yes, sir! Permission to take our prisoner to Spitzer, sir! To save you having to hear our evidence! Sir!” Choke shouted smartly in a parade ground cadence.
Barrelmender blinked at Choke for a long moment before waving at him irritably.
“Yes, yes. Fine! Have at it! With your silly games of crime and punishment! As though any of it matters when our doom approaches like a ghoul in the night. I would have you know, that in my day we did not awaken our betters for anything less than…”
As Barrelmender continued to rant and rave, striding up and down his church steps, waving his staff in the air above him, Choke proceeded with the matters at hand. He signaled for the squad to follow him, and they rode around the side of the church. Barrelmender went on as though he had not noticed they had left.
Behind the church, Choke dismounted and tossed the reins of the Chisel’s black stallion to Knuckle.
“You should have him, I think, Knuckle. You’re not much bigger than the Chisel was, and similarly armored. He should have no problem bearing you well. Pinch, you should take your pick of all the horses we have.”
“I’ll stick with Knickers, I think,” Pinch said, referencing the horse he had claimed from his kill of the bandit leader, Burkhard.
“Knickers? What the fuck? Ye named it Knickers?” Knuckle laughed.
“Yes. And fuck you, Knuckle. I earned the horse; I’ll name her what I want.”
“That’s great, man,” Peep said, “but Knickers is over in Stadnick’s stable and she’s a bush horse. Stick with one of these bigger riders for tonight.”
“Okay, good point,” Pinch conceded.
Gabe had come out of the church kitchen while they had been talking this over. He was armed and armored and seemed alert enough. Peep and Choke went into the church stables to saddle Nike and Gorgeous Boy. Gabe came along to help, and they filled him in on the broad strokes of the evening.
“I’m coming with you to Spitzer,” Gabe said as they finished up.
Peep and Choke exchanged a look. Peep shrugged.
“Your call,” she said to Choke.
Choke thought for a moment. Then he nodded to himself.
“No. We need you to stay here,” he said. When Gabe began to protest, Choke cut him off:
“We need you here, Gabe. You are to assist Barrelmender. Explain to him tomorrow what has happened and do your best to keep him as sober as possible. And I need you to talk to your people and keep your ear to the ground as best as you can. Yes? Sneed and his men are out there. He is working on another plan for us. We cannot leave Bristlehump and Barrelmender unattended. Do you understand? We need you here. That’s an order.”
Gabe’s bearing changed from petulant to determined as Choke explained himself. He nodded resolutely when Choke finished.
“Yes, sir.”
The squad mounted up and rode out around the church to the town square. Pinch went first, followed by Peep, then Knuckle leading Dixon’s horse, and Choke took up the rear. Gabe followed them out on foot.
Barrelmender had finally spent himself. He was leaning heavily on his staff, glaring at the seven soldiers who had now joined them from the north lane to the watchtower. The soldiers were all simple spearmen and looked completely lost. Seeing them, Dixon took his shot at complicating the situation in his favor.
“Men! To me!” he shouted at the soldiers. “I have been seized! These men have murdered Sergeant Wagner!”
The soldiers shifted uncomfortably and stood where they were.
“To me, I said!”
“Silence!” bellowed Barrelmender, striding down the church steps towards Dixon with fully renewed vigor.
Dixon postured up as best he could, under the circumstances.
“Barrelmender! Your men murdered Sergeant Wagner! There shall be a reckoning over it!”
“Silence, I said!”
Now reaching Dixon, Barrelmender swung his staff two-handed and stuck him in the face. The blow was not wild, however. Well measured, it struck Dixon across the mouth and left cheek just hard enough to give him a taste of his own blood without badly stunning him.
The horse Dixon was tethered onto startled at the sudden violence, but Knuckle was able to choke up on its reins and the horse settled down like a good boy.
Brother Cornelius Barrelmender, however, did not. He shouted up at Dixon in a clipped cadence, striking him hard on the right thigh with heavy, two-handed staff blows to punctuate every measure:
“I will!” whack. “Not!” whack. “Have!” whack. “A prisoner!” whack. “Speak to me!” whack. “As though!” whack. “He were!” whack. “Anything other!” whack. “Than what!” whack. “He is!” whack!
During this onslaught, Knuckle had to get an even tighter grip on Dixon’s horse, as Dixon writhed and groaned with each blow. The final two strokes proved too much for him and he barked in pain with each. Then he slumped forward with an agonized exhalation:
“Ahhhhhhhhh…”
“Enjoy your ride to Spitzer on that leg, you fornicator!” Barrelmender shouted up at him. “And be thankful I have spared you the other! It is well more than you deserve!”
Barrelmender turned on Choke:
“What are you still doing here! To Spitzer with you! Attend to your duty, man!”
“Yes, sir!” Choke answered smartly. He signaled for Peep and Pinch to lead the way. He waited for Choke to get Dixon’s horse moving before saluting Barrelmender smartly.
Barrelmender saluted him back. “Stron bless your mission, apparitor! If you wish to find me in better humor upon your return, bring me a military commander worth a damn, and at least one bottle of decent brandy!”
“Yes, sir!”
Out the south gate and through the Crotch, they saw the freight yard was now well lit up. A large number of teamsters had gathered with torches and lanters. All of them were armed, mostly with melee weapons. Their main focus seemed to be defending the animal stockade, where the oxen and mules were kept. Bob, the teamster foreman, could be made out standing on the elevated lumber deck with a crossbow in hand. Seeing all this, Peep and Pinch reined up.
“We’re taking the Spitzer road, yes?” Peep said.
“Yes,” Choke said grimly.
The situation was clear to them all, and was less than ideal. The road ran directly between the freight yard on its right and the Bristle Creek to its left. The opposite bank of the creek was socked in tight with the thicket that Peep and Knuckle had hidden Corporal Munge’s corpse in. The only positive was that no teamsters were blocking the road itself.
“All right then, full speed, yeah? Hold on tight, Dixon! Ye fall, and yar done. We aint stopping for shit,” Peep said.
“All right, then! Let’s fuckin go!” Knuckle shouted.
They spurred their mounts and were in a full gallop as they reached the freight yard. Bob was yelling something at his men, but there was no way for the squad to make that out. Even so, it seemed as though it was something other than an order to attack, because the teamsters stood their ground without making any aggressive moves towards the squad or the road.
However, riding in the rear as he was, it was immediately obvious to Choke that Dixon was going to fall from his saddle at any moment. While no doubt a competent rider, he was in no condition to be doing this. Unable to support his weight properly on his beaten leg, Dixon was bouncing and swaying terribly in the saddle. His horse was understandably not pleased at all with this, and began to resist Knuckle’s lead. At least this alerted Knuckle to the predicament unfolding behind him, and he began to slow.
Choke slowed his horse as well, to keep his distance from Dixon, who now seemed as though he might just manage to keep his seat.
Sneed had other plans, though.
From behind, across the ford of the Bristle Creek on the track to Bristlenook, Sneed sprung his ambush. It was a good spot. He and his men would have had a clear shot at the squad as they rode across the Crotch, but they would have been moving perpendicular to his position in total darkness. It seemed that Sneed was particular about his target that night. Better to wait for them to ride into the light of the freightyard in a vector away from him, allowing him to pick his target and have an easier shot even at a longer range.
Four arrows came across the Bristle Creek. All of them were shot at Lieutenant Dixon. Two were proper threats: war arrows shot from longbows. The two shortbow arrows were at the end of their effective range, but Dixon was unarmored and the shortbowmen were fine shots. One shortbow arrow and both longbow arrows took Dixon in the back. The other shortbow arrow barely missed him.
Dixon fell from the saddle. With his ankles tied to the stirrups, he was indeed trampled and dragged by his horse than night, although there was no way to know whether it was this or the arrows that killed him.
Knuckle reined up and began to turn, while Peep and Pinch out ahead began to slow. Choke wheeled Nike into a hard turn left and raised his kite shield to defend himself.
“Ride! Ride!” he shouted at the other three.
Choke, Peep, and Pinch followed the order and rode on. Now moving lateral to the archers, Choke was a more difficult shot for them. A longbow arrow hit his shield. One shortbow arrow whistled within a few centimeters of Nike’s neck, and another hit him in the haunch. Nike screamed, but carried on.
Wheeling right now, Choke spurred Nike into a gallop up the road after the rest of his squad. The second longbowman, who had been holding his shot in expectation of this move, now took it. The war arrow took Choke high in the back, just to the left of his spine and into his shoulder. The bodkin arrowhead pierced his chainmail and the wool doublet beneath, and sank a good depth into him; deep enough to kill if it had been in a vital spot. Choke rode on. Two more longbow arrows were fired his way, but neither found their mark.
Peep, Pinch, and Knuckle were waiting for Choke just past the freightyard. In considerable pain, Choke only noticed them as he galloped by. When he did, he slowed to a trot, allowing them to catch up.
“Fucker got ye!” Peep exclaimed. She fell in right next to Choke and reached out to grab the shaft of the arrow. “Stron, heal Choke, please!” she exclaimed.
Choke groaned as Stron’s healing pushed the arrow from his body and healed its passing.
“Thank you. Thank Stron,” Choke said, once he could.
Now riding at a trot in a tight formation on the Spitzer road, the squad reflected on their situation in silence for a long moment.
“On to Spitzer anyway, yes?” Peep said.
“Yes.”
“Sneed’s horses are tired. They aint gonna be able to keep up, right?” Pinch said.
“Ye think he aint been able to wrangle fresh ones?” Peep responded.
This required no reply. As the significance of her words sank home, the squad kicked up their mounts to a speed that bordered on reckless for riding a forested road at night.
Muse Vassal 