King Harry and the Free Company: Book Two

[unmerged(7095)]

As Scherer, Lochlan, and Alberic were discussing Sean's plan, Don Diego, who had been sitting quietly, thinking spoke up, "Where could that devil be hiding? We have serched all the obvious places, and yet I feel that we are missing something."

Alberic piped up, "Where would you go if you wanted to remain untouched?"

"Putting it like that, I would go to a Church and claim sanctuary.... But is our devil, secure enough in himself to hide under the eyes of God?"

Lochlan added, "I have a feeling that he has more than one hiding place. It might be worth checking out though."

Scherer looked like he might be about to suggest storming the Cathedral, but Alberic said, "The Church is very touchy about it's rights before God and Man. I do not think they would give him to us no matter who he was or what he did and Captain would be exiled from all of Christendom if he violated a Church to get to him."

Don Diego nodded and then said, "I will go with Father Wilhelm and see if the Cathedral has any new supplicants or acolytes. If there is anyone that fits the description, we can see if we can trap him as he leaves."

 

[Lord Durham]

Sometimes the best hiding places are the least obvious.

The house was located near the Channel side of the city. It was one of many tenements that had been built over the years as space in St. Malo was slowly grabbed by business minded landowners. In this case, the home was owned by a merchant couple who had spent many months on the road.

They would no longer be needing the house.

The couple that lived there now were paid well to be boring. Their job was to act like a working couple, no more, and no less. They were also paid well to ignore the slight man who lived in the basement wine cellar, nervously ignoring the muffled screams which were all too common from that deep, dank netherworld.

Blu Morte stood back and admired his latest piece of work. It was another Company man, or at least what was left of one. The assassin was mildly disappointed. This one must have had a weak heart. He would dispose of the body in a few days.

Shaking his head, the man began to change his clothes. Before leaving the cellar he threw on a bonnet, and then wrapped a shawl about his suddenly stooped shoulders. By the time he reached the crowded street his thin nimble hands were hooked into grotesque claws.

People made a point of ignoring the old crone that shuffled along the cobblestone pathway as she talked nonsense to herself in a constant chatter. Everyone knew it was bad luck to converse with the insane.

In the distance lay the castle, rising proud against the skyline. The guards paid no attention to the old woman as she painfully made her way past the home of the Free Company.

 

[driftwood]

5 pm, August 31st

Scherer looked like he might be about to suggest storming the Cathedral, but Alberic said, "The Church is very touchy about it's rights before God and Man. I do not think they would give him to us no matter who he was or what he did and Captain would be exiled from all of Christendom if he violated a Church to get to him."

Don Diego nodded and then said, "I will go with Father Wilhelm and see if the Cathedral has any new supplicants or acolytes. If there is anyone that fits the description, we can see if we can trap him as he leaves."

Shortly afterwards, Guillaume finally tracked Scherer down.

"Sean has told you about his plan?"

Scherer nodded, apparently unsure if he should look glum or fierce. "It sounds like a good one. I just hope no one else takes a crossbow bolt meant for me. Not that *I* want to take it either," he said with a sour expression.

"You heard another body was found floating in one of the inner channels? At this rate, Blu Morte is going to pick off half the company. The plan is as good as any I can think of."

"True enough," Scherer agreed. "Look, Don Diego and Father Wilhelm went to snoop around the cathedral, but they're not going to get very far without stepping on some toes. Didn't you talk to the Bishop before?"

Guillaume nodded. "I talked to the Mayor last night, but I will also send word to the Bishop asking that he cooperate with our men. He's a kind soul; he'll agree." An unspoken threat hung off of his words.

Scherer nodded again and seemed about to say something when Forster burst into the courtyard.

"Guill--- Lt. Sans-Titre," he said, restraining other words behind tight lips. "Can you spare a minute?"

"Of course," Guillaume said in a carefully neutral tone.

Casting a glance at Scherer, Forster continued. "It's just that- we're outside sealing the city. No one can get in or out. But instead of just sweeping the city and rounding up the populace, we're ducking in and out of shadows! Charging at rumors! Or skulking around the castle here!"

Both Scherer and Guillaume stiffened, the former more visibly than the latter. Seeing that, Forster added, "I mean, I understand why, it's just ... very frustrating! Lt. Scherer's life is in danger, but why aren't you doing more?"

Guillaume looked at Forster coldly. "I am not commanding this Company. You, along with all the other officers, came up with this policy. If you don't like it, why don't you bring it up with Sean, Lochlan, Edmonde or Edward?" Neither man had ever seen Guillaume this close to losing his temper.

"Did you stop to think whether or not rounding up the entire population would work? How are you going to make sure that every soldier knows what to look for? How are you going to ensure that every citizen turns out where and when ordered? Perhaps we could search every home in St. Malo, including the sewers, basements, attics, and hideaways? But that's impractical. So maybe we should try and figure out the best places to look for people who are trying to hide? How should we do that do you think? Perhaps by skulking about, listening to rumors, and charging at shadows?"

Taking a deep breath, Guillaume continued with a forced smile, "I understand your frustration. I feel it too. But I suppose you'll have to understand that I'm doing what I can, in my own way."

While Forster seemed mollified, Scherer had a look of intense concentration on his face.

"Something you said, Guillaume ... how would every soldier know how to recognize Blu Morte. What if he's hiding in plain sight? What if he has some sort of ... I don't know ... would a costume work?"

"A disguise," Forster hissed.

Guillaume nodded. "A leper, a churchman, even a woman or child. He could appear to be any of those things. We must simply be vigilant."

"What if we're not vigilant enough?" Forster asked.

Guillaume just looked at him. "Then Blu Morte wins."

[ooc: keeping the timeline moving...]

driftwood

 

[unmerged(6528)]

August 31st, 7pm

Now lads, wha' holes have ye foun' in me li'l ruse?" Sean asked as he returned to Lochlan and Scherer. Alberic and Diego nodded to him as he glanced around.

"Well, Diego mentioned some ideas about churches, and the cathedral..." Lochlan shrugged. "Its a very good idea, and I think we should definately start looking in some of the more unusual places." The scout folded his arms over his chest. The air was taking on a chill feel, despite the fact it was august. "I agree that I don't think were going to fins him by haphazardly searching. There are only a few things that I have reservations about in the plan. First, the volunteer. There is a good chance that he won't make it. I don't know if I can ask another company man to stand in a room and die for me."

The others shifted uncomfortably at the idea of this. Even Sean, who was becoming incredibly sinlge minded about Blu Morte winced, and nodded.

"Also, were making the assumptin he'll walk into the trap in the first place. What happens if he comes from a direction we didn't anticipate while were all focusing on this. And last, I don't know. I think your right, but something...something doesn't feel right about this."

"Yeah." Scherer agreed. "I talked with Guillaume and Forster earlier, this is going to recquire just about everything we've got."

"Aye." Lochlan said. "That is always the benefit of being the assassin. Its much easier for one man than it is for a thousand..." He trailed off, as if lost in a memory. Then he smiled humorlessly. "Well Scherer I suppose it depends just how much he wants you?"

 

[unmerged(7095)]

Father Wilhelm and Don Diego sat in an interview with the Bishop of St. Malo. The Bishop said, "I hope you understand the predicament I am in. On the one hand, the Church hates murder and assassination and sympathizes with you deeply. And on the other, sanctuary is one of our oldest and most valued traditions. I cannot allow anyone to be siezed from within the Cathedral."

Don Diego nodded, "I understand, Your Grace. Father Wilhelm made that clear to me when I first approached him about this. I was hoping that you could help us identify likely suspects so that we can apprehend this villain. All men must eventually face the Justice of God, but we hope to make this one face the Justice of Man as well."

The Bishop agreed, "Yes, by all reports we are dealing with an evil man who has sold his soul to the Devil. I will ask my people to help you, provided that no one is seized or killed on Church grounds." He paused. "I must say that your Company has... unusual... friends."

Father Wilhelm stiffened very slightly, remembering a certain conversation he had had outside of Orleans many months ago.

The Bishop rang a bell and then continued, "As per your earlier questions, I have sent for my clerk, Father David. He will be able to help you."

***

Father David shook his head, "No, we haven't had any mysterious clergy or lay brethern join the Cathedral since before you first arrived in St. Malo almost a year ago. We have had a few, but they have all been local lads, very well known. We have handfuls of suplicants who rely on the Church for alms. Some of them have been at it for years, those are either lame or, shamefully in the case of a few, lazy. Most of them though come and go. There are a few that first showed up not long ago, a youth, an old crone, a few others. None of them look anything like an assassin."

"We would expect him to be disguised. Are there any that come and go often and have very irregular hours? Especially those that show up right after a commotion?" Don Diego asked.

"Well, some of the children are like that, but they are too small to be a grown man. There was an old man with a limp that showed up after the Captain collapsed and at other odd times. There is also an old woman who turns up at the strangest hours."

Father Wilhelm exchanged a glance with Don Diego and spoke up, "I think it's time for the Castle to start sending you alms. I'm sure our kitchen has scraps we can send you to help feed the poor and hungry. We will need to check with our head cooks, but I think it can be arranged."

Don Diego added, "During this crisis, we can have someone personally deliver them and you can point out the suspicious ones to our messanger. We will have some of my men nearby in case anyhting happens. We'll show one of your men where to find us."

 

[Lord Durham]

August 31st, 9:30pm

The old crone shuffled down the street as the sun lay low in the sky. She hurried as fast as her aged legs and crooked body would allow. It was important she was off the streets before night fell.

The old woman reached the door of the house, looked about quickly, and let herself in. If anyone had bothered to look, they would have seen her stand upright before the door was fully closed. But who would ever pay attention to an old woman?

* * *

Blu Morte ignored the dead man hanging in the corner of the old cellar. He hummed a tune, off-key, as he put the serrated blade to a whet-stone.

The castle would be tough to crack. There was the main entrance, and a side entrance. The design was based on an old Norman keep, so the walls were high, with no footholds.

Pausing in his work, he held the knife on end to check the edge. Not sure, he stood up and walked over to the corpse, then casually sliced into it. He fervently wished the man was still alive, and made a mental note to find another; hopefully someone with a stronger constitution.

Blu Morte decided the edge was fine, afterall. He stared at the cut.

Yes, the castle. It appeared a direct approach would be required, but not tonight. He looked for another change of clothes.

It was time to go back out onto the streets.

 

[unmerged(4007)]

"Aye, I understan' yer concern fer a volunteer. I thin' I cin provide one from me own men. Someone who knows the need to en' this as well as anyone. Also, we cin provide 'im some protection. There's no reason to send 'im ou' with no armor on or any protection again' a bolt, usin' 'im as bait doena' mean we have to be stupid wi' 'im...in fact, havin' 'im act aware of the risk he is running might jus' make it look a li'l more 'realistic,' is ye understan' me." The others nodded at that. "As fer 'im no' takin' the bait. Unfortunately tha's the risk we run. Though if he were to giss me ruse, I cin probably giss where his first choice migh' be to take advantage of tha'."

"Someone close to you, I imagine. He has to eliminate you and Guillaume, sooner or later. And if you are the one making the plot, than he'll see you as the mroe dangerous of the two." Scherer responded.

"Exactly, and sooner rather than la'er. By doin' this I give 'im a door towards tha' opportunity as well...I jus' have to be ready to read the signs if he takes it. Any o'er questions."

--------------------------

Guillaume and Sean met later to discuss the plan between themselves.

"I think he might take it," Sans-Titre answered, "but you are aware who you are probably endangering if he doesn't..."

"We're all in danger...herself no less than anyone else, an' she's no' naiive eno' no' to know tha'. We jus' need to be alert to anythin' tha' he migh' try."

"Agreed. who's going to be your sacrificial lamb?"

"Sheridan, but he's not going to die. He's close to the same height and build, in the same clothes, with a hood, an assassin wouldna' be able to tell the difference. Tha' doesn' mean we canna provide 'im wi' protection though."

"How."

"Tha' we'll leave to our resident engineering genius...I'm sure Johann's spent a li'l time thinkin' o' ways to turn aside bolts as well as make them be'er...an' he only needs to protect again' one."

 

[Forster]

Forster responded to Scherer that his answer wasn't good enough. Someone is helping this scum. Someone who wasn't from St Malo, I would guess. I still think we need to find out who has moved here since we first arrived. And I still think a house to house search would smoke the son of a bitch out. He has to have the tools of his trade with him, I don't think someone can just walk around with all kinds of knives, crossbows, poisons and not be noticed, so he has to be operating from a fixed point. We need to find it quickly. If we don't, I may bring in my men to do it.

(OOC, everyone knows who is running the search, and it isn't the officers.)

 

[driftwood]

[quick ooc: ah, when plans were made, Guillaume was sitting in the infirmary. More posting later.]

driftwood

 

[Lord Durham]

September 1st, Morning


Clerk awoke with a start. His neck hurt and his back was stiff. He glanced around quickly before realizing that he was still slumped on the floor opposite the infirmary. He had fallen asleep, and no one had bothered him.

The boy stretched, stood, and stretched again. He gathered his materials and took the circular stone steps down to the main floor. He decided he was hungry and would check out the kitchen to see what he could nab.

Near the landing he heard Lieutenant Forster's gravelly voice, rising and falling in anger. "He has to have the tools of his trade with him! I don't think someone can just walk around with all kinds of knives, crossbows, poisons and not be noticed, so he has to be operating from a fixed point. We need to find it quickly. If we don't, I may bring in my men to do it!"

Clerk backed up a few steps. He had no desire to intrude on the conversation. Another voice said something, but he couldn't make it out, though it sounded like Scherer.

Forster's voice rose again, "If this isn't solved by those two soon, then we do things my way!" The heavy sound of receding boots indicated someone was leaving.

Clerk counted to 30, then descended into the main hall. He saw Lieutenant Scherer sitting at a table, alone. His hands covered his face. The boy stepped quietly and made the hall which led to the kitchen. "Swell," he mumbled to himself. "This Blu Morte asshole has the whole Company on edge. Now they're arguing among themselves." Shaking his head in frustration, he went looking for something to eat.

 

[driftwood]

September 1st, morning

Guillaume had spent all night out in the city. With the amount of money he was spreading on the streets, it wasn't long before everyone had seen Blu Morte. Still, despite the discovery of a surprising number of criminal gangs, most of whom were allowed to continue their business for a modest fee, there had been few leads.

The only lead of any value panned out at 8 am, in a secondary market. Guillaume was on the verge of giving up for the night and trying to grab a few hours of sleep. However, Peter Burgher had never let a lack of sleep stand in the way of plodding towards his objective. So they had gone to find the herb woman.

She was right where the loan shark had said, by the collapsed arch due west of the fish stall which sold 4 day old fish doctored up to smell fresh. Since most of the shoppers in this market were so impoverished, the old fish were still a good buy at that price.

The old herb crone had not survived to the ripe age of 47 by being stupid. She saw Peter's head, followed by several others which popped up above the crowd, bared her toothless mouth in a hiss of displeasure, and made to run for it. Unfortunately for her, she turned around to face Guillaume's knife.

"A few questions, honored mother?" he said coldly.

********************************

It turned out that she probably *had* been selling obscure herbs to Blu Morte, although it was hard to say absolutely. However, he had not been around for 3 days now, whereas he used to come daily.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he walked down a corridor of the castle, Guillaume almost tripped over Clerk who was busy hungrily scooping gruel out of his bowl.

"Oh, Clerk, would you see to it that Lt. O'Glaigh gets this?," he asked, hastily scribbling on a scrap of parchment.

Seeing Clerk's curious glance, he said, "Go ahead, read it. You need to stay in practice."

Sean-
Found BM's herb crone. Under watch, although he hasn't been there in ~1 week. Likely to be preparing for final move now.

G S-T

Clerk gulped as he rolled the scroll back off. His eyes darted between the scroll and his tempting gruel.

"Oh," Guillaume suddenly blinked. "You're eating. I'll get someone else to take it."

Clerk looked up at him fiercely. "It's more important to deliver it, Sir! I'll do it!"

Guillaume laughed tiredly. "No, boy, keep your strength up." He stiffled a yawn. "This is no time to be wiped out. Ah, look, there's Antonio. He probably hasn't done anything half this useful all day."

Grinning as Guillaume called out to Antonio, Clerk returned to his gruel.

Guillaume, for his part, entered the infirmary after handing off the note. Dr. Razkov informed him that Heloise had stopped degenerating, but had not stirred from her sleep in days now. Her breathing seemed to be getting dangerously shallow.

Feeling tapped on all levels, Guillaume sat down next to her bed and was soon fast asleep.

[edit - how rude of me to interrupt Clerk's brunch!]

driftwood

 

[unmerged(4007)]

September 1st noon

Sean read the note and folded it into his pocket, then returned to his lunch with Christina.

"Sean, you look concerned."

"Oh, tis jus' a note from Guillaume, 'tis actually some decent news. Jus' need to stay informed, tha's all."

"I heard Forster storming around saying you and Guillaume aren't doing enough. I wanted to scream!"

"Oh, donna worry. He's barkin, bu' he cinna do anythin abou' it. He pulls one man off of one of the gates, and we'll have 'im up on insubordination. An' he doesna have enou' people to do wha' he wants to unless he does it. He's ne'er done anythin' like this, an' tis jus' the stress o' it wearin' on him."

"And what of you...is there any stress on you?"

"There's only one thin' he cin do tha' would worry me."

"And that is?"

Sean didn't answer, he simply returned to eating.

 

[Sharur]

Near the landing Clerk heard Lieutenant Forster's gravelly voice, rising and falling in anger. "He has to have the tools of his trade with him! I don't think someone can just walk around with all kinds of knives, crossbows, poisons and not be noticed, so he has to be operating from a fixed point. We need to find it quickly. If we don't, I may bring in my men to do it!"

Clerk couldn't make out Scherer's response: "Forster, you know we don't have the manpower for that! Give them time, they know how to organize these types of things."

Forster's voice rose again, "If this isn't solved by those two soon, then we do things my way!" The heavy sound of receding boots indicated someone was leaving.

Scherer sighed. This whole mess was making the Company fractious, irritable, and, more subtly, fearful. Shaking his head, Scherer got up, heading off to find Guillame.

 

[unmerged(6528)]

September 1st, morning

The mood in the castle was tense. With Captain out of action there was no real central authority. Guillaume and Sean were working to take down Blu Morte. Seraphim, Bloomfield, Pohlman were mostly silent, and Forster was threatening to bring in his own men.

"This is what he wants." Lochlan muttered, stalking down the dimly lit halls of the castle. "If we give in and start fighting among ourselves then we might as well hand him the rope."


He reached Seans door just as Antonio was leaving. "Sean." He called out. "We got work to do." The Irishman just raised an eyebrow. "Not going to let me in?" Lochlan asked with a grin. Sean pulled the door open, and the scout walked inside. Old habits died hard, and Lochlan came in the door quick and closed it behind him. "Good morning." He said, nodding to Christina. Who returned the nod, then quietly left the room. Lochlan supposed he made her uncomfortable, but that was fairly normal, he made most people uncomfortable.

"Down te business lad." Sean said. He passed the note over to Lochlan, who looked at it. Then returned it without a change of expression.

"I can go take a look..." He trailed off meaningfully. "But that would have to wait til nightfall." He looked around the room as if looking for something. "Whats the status of your plan?" Lochlan asked.

"We'll It's gettin along." Seans burr thickened with his anger.

Lochlan nodded feeling the same way. "Let me know when you need me, ill be around." He rose from his chair to go.

 

[unmerged(4007)]

Forster saw Sean from a distance, he tried to avoid eye contact, but the Irishman's booming baritone ended his attempted evasion.

"FORSTER! A chat wi' ye fer a momen' if ye wou'." A couple footmen could be heard to mutter apprehensively.

"Lemme make this clear," the Irishman began, his voice now low, but cutting through even the closed door of the room they had detoured into, "Ye cin talk all ye wan' abou' wha' ye'r gonna do if thin's donna happen soon. But we've talked to the o'er officers, an' they're in agreement, ye pull ONE man off guard duty without authorization from Guillaume or meself, an' ye'll be locked in yer quarters under guard. AM I CLEAR?"

"But why can't we just look for him in a sweep of the town, how many people carry those implements with them."

"Do ye thin' before you spit these thin's ou'? First, we pull men off the gates, an' he'll be gone, he'll go righ' ou' into the country an' come back when he desires, an' all these men who've died will have died in vain, an' fer all we know Capt'n, or Scherer, or YOU, coul' be hit by 'im agin. One way or another, this ENDS the way we're doin' it now. He's trapped, an' sooner or later we fin' 'im.

As fer carryin' his gear. Who says he does? He only needs it when he's killin' any o'er time he cin jus' sneak around lookin' like anyone. Do you carry your horsegear with ye all the time? O' course no'. Why shoud it be any differen' fer him?

An' one more thin'. One of his goals is to breed disunity in the Company, an' by yer spoutin' off, yer servin' HIM, not Cap'n. You have misgivin's abou' how we're actin'. Fine. Keep 'em to yerself. Talk to Cap'n abou' it after he recovers an' af'er Blu Morte is dead. Until then, ask yerself if yer servin' the Company or HIM."

"I WILL talk to Captain about this in due course O' Glaigh."

"Fine, ye obviously confuse me wi' someone who cares. I donna' tell ye how to handle cavalry, an' I CERTAINLY donna tell other Company officers yer doin' it wrong, e'en when I think it. This isna yer area of service, donna tell me, or Guillaume, how to do our jobs, an CERTIANLY donna take such things behind our backs agin. Cap'n'll decide if we handle these things aright, and no one else...period. Now, if ye wan' to be involved, yer services in a constructive manner would be appreciated...are you interested in helpin', or merely critiquin'?"

 

[Forster]

(OOC - Shawng1, I don't talk like that, and I wouldn't cringe over your words like that, so don't put words in my mouth. And I wouldn't cringe over seeing you.)

As Sean spoke, several men came over and stood behind Lt Forster.

Forster answered Sean - YOU might ask if you are serving the company, or are you assisting Guillame in his private vendetta. This is going on for too long.

As for his supplies, that is my point exactly. They are somewhere, because he ISN'T carrying them around. His hiding place should have been found by now, if it wasn't for you all playing footsie games.
A house to house search should be able to clear everybody out, and identify anyone not native to this little town.

You will mess around until none of the Italian vets are still alive, because of your false sense of pride. If you try to arrest me, I think you will have more on your hands to worry about than Blu Morte.
Now get out of my sight.

 

[driftwood]

The men didn't know quite what to think. Sean, Guillaume, Forster ... all were polarizing officers, despite the efforts of some of them not to be. The men quickly seperated into groups, parroting their favorite's arguments back and forth.

Soon, the voices were rising, tempers were flaring, and the guards at the edge of the castle, grew curious. Turning their backs to the outside world, they headed towards the confrontation.

As the first man pushed another, far inside the castle Guillaume let out a contented snore and then settled back into his much-delayed night's sleep.

[ooc: Forster - shawng1 only gave Forster 2 lines of speech, which were fairly neutral. I think he did a pretty decent job of writing both sides of the argument, given that he clearly favors one of them. ]

driftwood

 

[Lord Durham]

OOC: This is exactly the kind of dissension that would happen under circumstances like this, so I think it's appropriate that nerves are frayed. However, let's not forget that there's nothing personal going on, it's just character interaction.

It certainly makes for tense writing.

 

[Sharur]

Scherer heard the argument between Sean and Forster heat up, and then explode into dozens of arguments between Company footmen. Shaking his head, he remarked, more to himself than to Lochlan, who was standing next to him, "Now, more than ever, is when we need the leadership of Captain and Syban; yet Captain's in the infirmary, and Syban... well, who knows where he is. It'll take nothing short of a miracle to pull us together now."

 

[unmerged(4007)]

"Personal vendetta? Personal sense o' pride? COMPANY men are dyin'. YER own men are dyin...by the way, I never threatened any o' them. This is strictly an issue of YER insubordination if ye let Blu Morte ou'. Did it occur to ye tha' he doesna e'en need to keep his gear in a HOUSE? He cin keep it in the sewers, under the cobblestone streets, in HUNDREDS of places. I was righ', ye donna thin' abou' wha' yer sayin'. Look, ye've bin tol', an this isna jus' from me and Guillaume. Yer on yer own if ye mess wi' the current plans.

I donna care if ye thin' this is personal or no'...OK, I'll tell ye the truth, it IS personal fer me, because me frein' is lyin' on a bed an' I'm no' sure he'll live. Meanwhile people who ough' to be supportin' the plans of the Company decide tha' they know be'er than anyone else wha' to do e'en though they have NO experience in this sorta thin'. Certainly less experience than I have in Cavalry, fer instance... But I know my job. An' I'll do it...stay ou' o' me way. As far as I'm concerned, this is done. Donna waste my time, or the time o' anyone else, wi' harebrained ideas. This all be done soon enou'."

With that Sean turned on his heel and left. "Sheridan, git Lochlan, we cinna wait any longer."

_______________________

That evening, word was put out that Lt Scherer would be inspecting his men in the Keep courtyard personally at noon on September 3rd, and all members of his regiment were to be present. Provisions were made for reliefs to be made of those scheduled for guard duty at the time. The only ones who knew Scherer wouldn't actually be present were Lochlan, Guillaume, Sheridan, Scherer, and O' Glaigh, and they were not speaking to anyone else about why this was being allowed when the rest of the Company would have to pull double duty for them.