The Butcher of Gadobhra

The sun peeked over the horizon, spreading its light over a world that wanted another half-hour sleep. Or so Captain Bernice always assumed, based on how her troops moaned each day. The Red Banner Mercenary Company was warm and toasty in their bedrolls, clustered in squads around the ashes of their campfires. The night guards were up, of course. They had been on duty since midnight and were eager to turn over their watch to the next four men and get food from the cook.

By tradition and the Captain's orders, no one ate until the night watch ate. The cook ensured each man got his share of thick porridge made from nuts, good grain, and a small chunk of bacon. In the case of the night watch, the cook was generous with his portions. Bacon was the one thing that brought the men out of their beds every morning, and the last watch became more popular when they started getting a double share. The company paymaster complained about the cost of the meat, but even knowing the high cost that the butcher's guild of Wolfsburg charged, it was worth it. The +1 to STR and +10 Health it provided were a bonus, as far as she was concerned. The main benefit was less time getting everyone moving. A decent breakfast brought the men out of beds. The menu varied but always included bacon and good, strong coffee.

They'd be fed and on the road, an hour after sun up, with much of that time spent caring for the horses. The armor and weapons of the Red Banner might be showing wear and tear after many repairs, but they always paid attention to their mounts. They always bought the best, and the horses got more care than the soldiers. Only fair since they did most of the work. All the men and women wore heavy leather armor with small plates and strips of metal to reinforce critical areas covered in a layer of oiled cloth. This type of armor was called brigandine because of its preference for brigands, highwaymen, and the better class of bandits. It wasn't as heavy or noisy as metal and didn't reflect sunlight.

Bernice's mercenary squads preferred it as well. The Red Banner wasn't hired to do guard duty. They lived in the field on their horses and made up for their lack of polish and manners with a good reputation for getting the job done, even when the job meant getting their hands dirty. They had yet to be given the particulars of the next job, but it was sure to be dirty, and the pay would be bad. You couldn't expect anything less from Baron Pinchpenny. But sometimes jobs were scarce, and horses and men had to eat.

The company moved out over what the map generously called an Imperial Road. Baron Pinchpenney was responsible for fifty miles of road south of Northguard and all of the road north to Rowan Keep. Obviously, he hadn't been bothering for at least a decade, if not more. The low walls on either side of the road were crumbling, and much of the stone had been used to fix sinkholes. (Or stolen by farmers building snug houses.) Grass and weeds, even small bushes, grew between the stones. Another ten years and the road would be impassable. She wondered what the man was thinking. Did he not want merchants and travelers to his small city?

Twice they passed ruined villages within a mile of the road. A quick ride to them showed they were recently abandoned with little left behind. There were fields and small wood lots, and the wells were in good shape. So why were they abandoned? Most houses had burned roofs, but the barns and mills were untouched. Even more curious, many fields were tilled and planted for the next harvest.

The third village was new and prosperous by the look of the large fields. The fences were in good repair and made of recently cut wood. Peasants were hard at work plowing and planting. "Time to water the horses again. First squad on me; the rest of you keep moving."

The village looked more like a military encampment than a peasant village. There were no individual plots of land. Instead, everyone lived in long narrow buildings that resembled hastily built barracks. Behind each was a row of outhouses. A large well with a windmill was pumping water into what must be a bathhouse. There were no chicken coops, gardens of vegetables, or herbs. Also missing were merchants, guilds, and all the other things that made up a village. Peasants in burlap work clothes were doing their chores very efficiently, and no one stopped to talk to them until they got to the town center. There was curiosity, but the peasants kept their eyes downcast.

It took Bernice a moment to focus on what bothered her about the peasants. Then her eyes narrowed. There were no children, and the people doing heavy labor were equally split between men and women. Stong men and women. She saw on burly farm girl walk by with three of the large, hundred-pound sacks of groats on her shoulder, easily packing the load.

There was a small crowd of people in the center of the village. There, at a large wooden table, two men were handing out work assignments and arguing with some of the peasants.

One of them noticed the mounted squad of mercenaries and walked over to them, a smile on his face that had too many teeth. He was dressed far better than his peasants but poorer than a local lord. Perhaps some foreman? "Greetings, and what brings you here to our fine village? I'm Reggie Halderman, local regional manager for Alchemarx. What can I do for you?" He smiled like any of the toadies at the King's Court.

"Greetings. Just scouting the area. The Red Banner Company is taking some coin from your local lord to keep bandits under control. We thought we'd learn the area as we traveled North." The story was half true, they were heading to negotiate with PinchPenny, but an agreement still needed to be signed. She wanted to see the color of his money first before committing to a term of service.

Reggie smiled again, showing some interest. "Good. Good. We've been asking the Baron to help whittle down the bandit problem. They keep stealing food out of the fields, which cuts into profits."

"Food? Usually, bandits prefer hard coin. Are they well-armed at all? Any merchant caravans attacked?" Bandits stealing food was normal. But harvesting it from fields was not. Fresh produce was heavy to pack. Grain would need a mill to process it. Bandits were more likely to steal cattle, horses, and pigs. Or attack the village to take a wagon of grain or flour.

Reggie shrugged. "I'm a manager. What do I know about bandits? Other than wanting them gone, I don't care. But don't worry, with the armor and weapons you guys are packing; it will be easy. The best they have is a few pitchforks and hunting bows."

"Good to know. We fight when we have to, but I prefer my fights one-sided and easy."

Reggie grinned, a real smile this time. "A woman of wisdom. I like my fights like that too."

Bernice pointed back towards the abandoned villages. "Not that I care for details, but I notice empty and burned villages back a few miles. Your bandits didn't happen to come from there, did they? Just wondering if we should watch them and see if they return. Rogue peasants don't tend to travel far. They'll come back and set up a camp to raid the roads if those buildings aren't destroyed."

"That's exactly what they have been doing! We stamp them out, and they set up elsewhere. You'd think they would get the hint to move on. But I can see us doing business together. I need a fast-moving group that can solve my bandit problem. Take my card. When you're done telling PinchPenny to stuff his stingy offer up his ass, come see me. Alchemarx needs to hire some mercenaries. You can make some good coin working for me. My corporation is the future of this area, and you can get in on the ground floor."

"But to answer your question, yes, a lot of the bandits came out of these little villages scattered all over. Horrible way to farm. Lots of small fields and no organization. We'll bring in four times as much food using our methods. But first, the Baron had to clear the local peasants off his lands. He hired some idiots, but they did a half-assed job. Burned a few huts, chased them into the woods, and now they've turned bandit and are stealing food. Not that most of them weren't bandits all ready."

She took the card and placed it in her pouch. "I'll be back. I have to hear at least what offer the miser Baron makes, but I have expenses, and it sounds like you have gold to spend." As the company of mercenaries road off, Reggie returned to his talk of planning an expansion of the existing fields. "Who had the idea of growing hay and alfalfa for horses? I know I yelled at someone about that stupid idea. I've changed my mind. Great idea. You're in charge. That group has a lot of ponies to feed. Get things planted today and get those cantrips going so we can harvest in a couple of weeks. I can pay half their wages in food and fodder to keep costs down."

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