Table of Contents – (spoilers)
After lunch, Pekot’s Bushrats marched for another four hours before reaching their destination for the night. They were halfway between Spitzer and Bristlehump. Importantly, this was also the midway point for the lumber wagons that traversed the road, so there was something of a camp set up there.
The forest had been cleared for good, stout pens for horses and oxen. As well, there were a number of rough shelters. However, none of these rose to even the level of a cabin, with the best simply being slanted windbreaks of evergreen boughs lashed to frames. It was better than nothing, though, and the tired soldiers and followers set about making themselves as comfortable as possible as soon as they arrived.
It was nearing dark and they had finally managed to light a proper fire under the most serviceable shelter, when heavy ox-drawn carts could be heard lumbering down the road towards them from Bristlehump. Dom’s squad was on picket out towards the road and managed a whistle of alert just a few seconds after nearly everyone had heard the approaching wagons for themselves. A few seconds later, they were hailed by the first teamster:
“Halloooooo! Who is there!” he called out.
In short order it was established who everyone was, and the respective parties could get on with what they needed to do. The lumber caravan consisted of six heavy wagons, loaded down with big logs, heading to Spitzer’s sawmills. Besides the six drivers, there were three assistant lads, and two guards with crossbows, seated up with the drivers of the first and last wagons. Most of the teamsters were armed themselves, with deer bows and light melee weapons.
While the teamsters set about unhitching their teams from their circled wagons, their leader came over to have a word with the soldiers. He was a big, burly, bearded man in a weathered rain poncho. As he approached, Choke recognized him as Balan: the church’s tenant, husband of Babs the beermaker, and father of Gabe, the Pekot Bunch’s fixer in Bristlehump. It had been Balan who had hosted the parlay between the Bristlehump teamster boss, Bob, and the squad that had led to them uncovering the Outfit’s payroll scam.
“Balan! Good to see you! Bartholomew, here!” Choke said, raising his palm to step towards the teamster.
Upon recognizing Choke, Balan startled to a comical degree that would have seemed affected in a different sort of human.
“Brother Bartholomew? What! Well, I never!” Balan’s face cracked into a wide, astonished smile. He turned back towards the teamsters, bellowing and waving his arms: “Dusty! Garet! Get over here! It’s Brother Bartholomew, of the black robes! He’s alive! Well, aint that a shitkicker!” Balan laughed as he turned back to Choke. “My word, I am surprised to see ye, sir! But happy to, I assures ye.”
“I take it you all heard I was dead,” Choke said, exchanging a look with Peep and Pinch.
“Aye, that we did,” Balan said, before turning to his two elder sons as they joined them. “Look at this, boys! It’s Brother Bartholomew! Alive and kicking! And praise Stron for it! Praise Stron!”
“Praise Stron!” a good number of people around seconded.
“Well, I guess we have a lot to talk about, Balan. But we should do that after we get everyone settled. A happy thing to meet you in the middle on this evening, though. Praise Stron, indeed!” Choke said, stepping forward to clap Balan on the shoulder. The two then shook hands in a friendly, boisterous manner.
It turned out that the teamsters were much better prepared for settling down in that sort of weather. Within the circle of their wagons, they were able to string up three large, canvas tarps. Anchored to the logs just taller than the height of a man, the tarps were pulled together towards the center in a clever arrangement of ropes looking not unlike a simple spider’s web. This was tensioned by two longer ropes tied to the wheels of opposite wagons. With three big cookfires just under the tarp edges, it made for a comfortable shelter just big enough for all souls there.
After the teamsters, soldiers, and religious followers had broken bread together, and a few bottles, flasks, and pipes of weed had been passed around, the evening became lively. Choke waited for a polite moment to pull Balan aside for a private word. Leaving Pinch and Knuckle to mind the men, Choke and Peep went with him to the far edge of the tarps to hunker down together.
Peep took a moment to get her pipe going, and Balan was more than happy to partake of what she offered once he smelled it light up.
“Oh, this is some real fine skunky stick,” he said happily as he puffed away. “Ye’ve been keeping this to yarself, and I don’t blame ye for it, Miss Otilla. I don’t mind if I do, myself. Not with ye here, and all the soldiers to boot, so’s I don’t have a worry in the world for our safety. I don’t mind a bit. Thank ye, Miss Otilla.”
Once Choke had declined the pipe, Balan and Peep smoked it right down to ash. Then they had to take a moment to gather their wits before Choke could proceed. He managed not to seem too impatient about it.
“So, here ye are, Brother Bartholomew,” Balan eventually said. “Alive and well. Unkilled by the treacherous. I suppose yar coming along with the new soldiers bound for Bristlehump, Brother Bartholomew?”
“Something like that, Balan. And it has to do with some news I bear. I am no longer Brother Bartholomew. I am now Lieutenant Bartholomew Pekot. And the commanding officer of these men,” Choke said, allowing just a little pride into his voice as he did.
“Well, now isn’t that a blessing! Lieutenant Pekot, ye say? Well, let me shake yar hand and congratulate ye on it, Lieutenant! Lieutenant indeed. Indeed!” Balan said emphatically as he and Choke clapped their hands together to shake vigorously.
“Thank you, Balan. I do appreciate it. And I think, friends as I hope we are now, that you can call me Bartholomew.”
“Well, alright, then. I don’t mind taking the liberty if ye don’t mind it being taken! Bartholomew it is, then. And aren’t ye all a good sight for sore eyes. And here we was, trudging down this lonely road, thinking we was heading to the place of yar foul murder. With every step enriching, in our own little way, the murderous heathens that did it to ye. What a forlorn day it has been under such a heavy burden. And what a blessing now to see that it aint so! Praise Stron! Praise Him, indeed!”
“Indeed. And Altas, for it was surely Him that saved me with His blessed healing.”
“Praise Altas! Thank you, Lord, for keeping our man Bartholomew safe and healing him so, so’s he could be returned to us and fight the good fight for your holy son, Stron. Amen!” Balan said, tracing the Wheel over his chest.
“Amen,” seconded Peep and Choke as they traced the same.
“Now, Balan,” Peep said, “I’m sure ye understand that we’re more than just a little curious how it was ye came to think that Choke here got himself killed.”
“No doubt, Miss Otilla. Yeah. Well, I’m more than happy to tell ye what I know, which aint altogether much, I reckon. But here it is.” Balan rubbed his palms together and stretched his neck a little as he settled in to tell his tale:
“Well, now, like I said, there’s really not all that much to tell, but, uhhh… yeah. I was there at the house with the girls, and… the one there, ye know, that boy of mine that was, ye know, doing the thing there that he was… ahhhhhh… What was it now? Oh, I’ve gone and lost the thread of it all! Well, now, Miss Otilla, that is some heavy smoke ye pack there. I don’t quite remember what it was I was meant to be— Oh! Right! Yeah, how I knew that ye were killed, Bartholomew. Or, rather, how I came to wrongly think that, would be more precisely correct,” Balan said.
“Yeah, that it would,” Peep giggled, as Choke struggled to contain his impatience. “So, ye heard that Choke here had been killed. When did ye hear that?”
“Right! I got a hold of it now! Here goes. Well, I was home yesterday, relaxing a little, and Garet went up to the yard to check on when we was on the schedule to set out again, which turned out to be this morning. Except he come back with the additional sad news that ye had been killed, Bartholomew. Praise Stron and Altas that it wasn’t so! But as to how he heard that eroneous tale. Seems that around about lunchtime yesterday, a rider come in from Spitzer and went straight in to have a word with Bob. And as busy as he is, and as ornery as Bob is about seeing anyone he don’t expect to be seeing, that rider got right in to see him.”
Balan paused significantly at this before going on:
“Now, by the time Garet got to the yard, the whole joint was talking about it, but he got the story from Klim himself, who’s Bob’s right hand. Klim told him that this feller who rode in told Bob that he was a soldier from Fort Spitzer, and that he shot Bartholomew, although that’s not how he referred to ye, if ye don’t mind me saying, Bartholomew. But he told Bob that he’d killed ye with a crossbow and lit out from the fort to find Sneed and report it to him. Get his reward for it, and all, on account of he couldn’t be a soldier anymore, after doing that, and all. He got real hot and yelled at Bob some when Bob told him that he didn’t know where Sneed was. That’s how Klim was able to overhear as much as he did. Then Bob told him that they’d work something out. And that’s it,” Balan ended abruptly.
“That’s it. Ye mean that’s all ye know?” Peep asked.
“That’s right, Miss Otilla. That’s the whole story that Klim told Garet. Now, I reckon that all sorts a folk are talking about all kinds a other nonsense all around Bristlehump by now, but that’s the only story I’d put any stock in, if I were ye,” Balan answered.
“I think I agree with ye, Balan,” Peep said, clapping him on the shoulder. “It is a good one.”
“Aye, it’s a gooder!” Balan agreed.
“Yar boy, Garet, he didn’t hear anything else about the rider, did he? Didn’t happen to catch a name, did he?” Peep asked.
“Nope, he did not. And I’d tell ye if he had, ye have my word on that.”
“Oh, I know it, Balan. That doesn’t matter. Now, just a more general question, if I may,” Peep said, leaning in close to him as she dropped her voice even further. “Does it surprise ye that a soldier that run off after thinking he’d murdered Choke would go straight to Bob afterwards?”
Balan hesitated before answering:
“Well now, Miss Otilla, I don’t reckon that does surprise me. But it aint like Bob is his boss or nothing, right? I mean, the guy was looking to find that pit viper, Sneed. Freight yard bosses are who guys like that lean on when they need anything. And from what we heard, it was the murdering soldier that did all the pushing there, right? And it aint like Bob had any choice about bringing Sneed around in the first place, neither. Not unless he wanted to end up like poor Rodolf,” Balan said, referencing the peasant that Sneed had killed for giving testimony against Lieutenant Dixon.
“I know it,” Peep said. “And what I’m hearing from ye now is that you, and that means all the other good teamsters of Bristlehump as well, feel that Bob is still one of ye. That’s right, isn’t it? Bob’s still yar man, is he?”
“Well, he’s our boss. And he’s a prick. But that don’t mean he’s with them that are out to get ye. He done right by ye before, didn’t he? At the meeting at our place. He helped ye out, I heard,” Balan said, his tone a supplication.
“He did. And it seems ye hear a lot, Balan,” Peep said. “So I’m more than willing to hear Bob out on this whole mess. But he’s gotta come to us as he did before and tell us something we don’t know. And I am sure he knows lots more than us at this point. At least about the fucker that shot Choke. Would ye agree with that assessment, Balan?”
“That I would, Miss Otilla.”
“And we’re gonna need to have that conversation just like our last one. And real quick, like; just as soon as possible after we get to Bristlehump. So, would ye be willing to act as go-between this time, as ye did the last?” Peep asked.
“Aye, that I would. Only problem there is that I’m heading to Spitzer, not back home,” Balan said.
“Ye took the words right outta my mouth, Balan. Couldn’t a put it better myself. So, what are we gonna do about that, d’ye reckon?” Peep asked him.
Balan thought about it, sucking on his mustache as he did. It did not take him long to reach a conclusion.
“Well, now, Miss Otilla, I don’t reckon that this next meeting is any heavier than the last one, right? Should be a fair bit friendlier, I reckon, since the last one went so well. So, what I’m saying is, that I don’t feature that I need to be there to set all parties straight on what’s what. Now do I?”
“Not for our side, ye don’t,” Peep agreed.
“Right. And I know Bob’s mind. So, I think it’ll be just fine for ye to have Babs set that up for ye when ye get to town,” Balan said, speaking of his wife, the beermaker.
“And she can do that? On the sly, I mean. Get word to Bob that we want a private word at your firepit behind your place, same as last time?” Peep asked.
“Sure! Why couldn’t she? Bab’s can walk right into his office whenever she wants. Has plenty of times before. Aint a surer way that I know of to get private word to him.”
“And people around, they won’t think it odd, her going to see him like that? They won’t put it together that it’s a special case, on account of us coming to town and all?” Peep asked.
“No… I don’t think so. Our womenfolk come and go at the yard all the time. And Bob can’t go a day or two without one of them or another taking a run at him over some shit. That’s half his job, sometimes!” Balan laughed. “So, here’s what ye do: when ye get back to town, my boy, Gabe, will come and rejoin ye, right? He’s keen to keep on with ye as yar local talent, that I know. So, ye tell him to go tell his mom to bring up some more beer and that ye have a message for her. Then when she comes, ye send her on to Bob to set up the meeting. And ye can tell her that it’s on my say so, although I don’t reckon ye’d have to anyhow. And it aint like she puts much stock in my say so anyhow, as near as I can tell. But I can’t see that plan going sideways on ye.”
“Well then, Balan, I reckon we’re going to do exactly that. Thank ye for your input. I am sure it’ll be very helpful,” Peep said.
“Yes, thank you very much, Balan. We really appreciate it,” Choke said, reaching out to shake the teamster’s hand again.
“Not at all, Bartholomew. Not at all. Always glad to help a friend. And doing my part to keep the peace is my honor.”
“Well, thank you all the same, Balan. We are obliged to you,” Choke said. “And now, I think it is time for us to go to bed. It has been a long day and we all have an early start tomorrow.”
With the teamster’s wagons and tarps serving as tent space for all, it was a comfortable enough situation to spend the night. Just as the Pekot Bunch had routinely set a watch order for themselves when it was just the four of them, so it was now that they had a platoon under them. They took their turns at watch, as they had before, but now they had five soldiers to watch with. The pickets were set and rotated so that the camp and road, as well as the pens for the horses and oxen were always guarded.
Of course, with Corporals Dom and Lenny having their own squads, this meant that none of the Pekot bunch could supervise them when on watch. Before they bedded down, Choke pulled Pinch and Peep aside to have a quiet word about it.
“Now, Captain Edison gave me some good advice. He said we should push any troublemakers hard and then put them into a situation to tempt them to run off. Now, it seems to me they’ve all been pushed hard enough. As to the troublemakers, I’d say Reece is the frontrunner in that regard,” Choke said, speaking of the tall soldier that had dared to complain before taking it too far.
“Yeah. He’s still looking like he’s gonna be a nasty piece of work. At least for the weaker lads,” Pinch said.
“And you said earlier that he has something of an accomplice. The bulldog looking fellow. His name is Osgar, right?”
“Yeah, it is. And yeah, they’re definitely a unit. Don’t turn yar back on them,” Pinch asked.
“Indeed. So, what I was thinking was, why not give them their temptation. Peep, you have the best handle on the corporals, it seems. Of Dom and Lenny, who do you think is the more competant and trustworthy?” asked Choke.
“Well, that night they other one was fixing to run off, Dom was arguing against it. Lenny sat mute. Dom also seems to be the smarter of the two. From what I’ve seen so far, he’s also better with his bushcraft. Slightly better kit, too. So, if yar looking to tempt Reece and Osgar into running off, then sticking them in Lenny’s squad on watch would be the way to do it,” Peep answered.
“That’s exactly what I’m thinking. I don’t think it very likely that they’ll try to run off on a night like this in the middle of the wilderness, but we may as well get them thinking about it. Peep, do you mind taking on some extra duty in this? It means pulling a double shift,” said Choke.
“Yeah, fuck. I figured this is where ye were heading. Ye want me to skulk off and watch them when they’re on watch, huh?”
“Yes, I do. If you don’t mind,” Choke said.
“Sure. Why the fuck not. It aint like I been working hard this last stretch. And maybe I get a shot at that bonus for bringing deserters in. What was it? It’s two silver a head, right?”
“Yes, that it is. Alright then, Peep. How do you want to do this? You can have your pick of watches. And you can put Lenny’s squad on whenever you like, too.”
“Alright. I should sleep off some of this weed. So I’ll take second last watch. Put Lenny on last watch. They might get to thinking that they can make a break for it just before the sun comes up. And, that way, at least I get a decent stretch of sleep. Right?” Peep asked.
“Sounds good. Thank you. Can you inform the men of the watch order, Pinch? Anything to add?” Choke asked Pinch.
“No, sir. Sounds good to me. I’ll go get it done.”
“Thank you. Let’s do it. Oh, and Peep, bringing any deserters in alive is preferable. But, if you do, then we’ll just have to flog them and hang them, so it really is your call. Do what ye feel.”
“Alrighty, LT. Will do!” Peep said cheerfully, before she went to get some sleep.
Muse Vassal 