Seeking the Veil, Part 2

A Dead Quiet

Afternoon, the next day, with the tables of the mess tent full and Radish and Tot dancing around in some raggedy blue dresses, Orangebeard stomped in.

With a round of applause, the two shuffled off of a table and Orangebeard clapped his hands. "We been hired."

Krass smiled, a splinter in one hand as he picked his teeth. "That was easy, kopf. Did ya pay them, or will they pay us?"

Orangebeard's beard swayed as he shook his head. "No shit it was easy. They got Sordin crawling up their arse."

Hestea leaned forward.

A couple of men shouted, but Orangebeard raised one hand and they broke off. "Yeah, that's right. They seen some of the black bastards scuttling around. Markgraf's got a small keep, little more than a tower to watch the Hald Pass. Been no response. Sounds like trouble."

"But, all the Sordin are in the west. Konig's got them tied up in the marshes."

"Think it if ya want. They ain't all there."

"So, what's the plan, kopf," asked Krass, leaning back, creepy grin as wide as an axe blade.

"Gotta find out what happened to Hald Keep. Van Heiling gave up on his scouts coming back. Time for us."

"What if we have to take the tower? What if it be held by the Sordin?" asked a dark-haired mercenary with gray in his beard.

"Then we tear down some bricks to get our hands on the juicy center. Now! What's fer dinner?"

***

The next day the Band moved out, Orangebeard grumbling, shouting at every delay. The kopf shook his fists at Raddish when he danced behind the work tables juggling four potatoes as he keened some Becken love song. Then the man, some called Hans with a smile, knocked a merc on his ass, looking ready to do more, until Dietra dragged him away, howling like a lost dog.

"What got into Orangebeard," Hestea asked in a hush as they trundled along, the wind kicking up flurries of ice as the sun shone surprisingly bright through a patch of clouds.

Rufus answered as Smallhands trudged along, his big hands squeezing into fists one at a time, "All the Saeordin been in the west, swimming in the marshes and burning half of Bremen while they play." Rufus shrugged, disinterested in the plight of Beckenbug's neighbor. "The konig has had them tied up there for nearly a year. It was only by chance he even heard tell of the rabble. But he's there, Beckenburg's whole might is there and the east has been as quiet as a hen house surrounded by wolves." Rufus ground his teeth and hefted his mace. "So it sounds like we got some black bastards trying to play behind the lines. They'll learn, though. That they will."

"So you think this is just some raiding party of Saeordin?"

"It's what we can hope fer," answered Smallhands, chewing his lip.

Rufus patted the giant on the shoulder. "Quit your worry."

Orangebeard called a halt early and Hestea and some others shuffled forward to get a view as a small column of armed men lined the road. They were garbed in blue, a small pennant swaying on a pole with two silver axes crossed upon the banner.

"Ho!" Orangebeard shouted. "Where do you head?" It was an innocuous question, but Hestea could see the Band readying weapons, shifting along the road, preparing.

"What's going on?" Hestea asked in a hush. But Smallhands put a finger to his lips and stared forward.

A man layered in shining mail, half helm shading his eyes, draped in rich blue, embroidered with silver answered, "To the Bremen border, under orders of the konig. Who be you to travel the konig's roads?"