"If I tell you, you ain't gonna kill me? Yeah, right, greenskin. I know how your kind is. You'll butcher me and eat me no matter what I say. An' if you don't, Oleg will!" The youth tries to harden his expression, but fear shows in his eyes. His nostrils flare as he tries to control his breathing. "You already done shot me. If I don't get these bullets out, I'm dead anyway. It'll be long and slow that way, I'd rather get et by a rat!"
Zort grunts. "What do ya'll say? Do I give this kid a lead injection to the brain?" Gus squeaks, climbs down the outlaw, skitters up Zort and hides in the jacket pocket again.
"He's been caught in the act of banditry by deputy marshals. Unless there's a judge about to try him, I say we hang him."
"Then, why did we bother waiting for him to wake up?" asks Treetopper.
"Kid, give us a good reason not to kill you. Good information about your crew and what you're willing to do for the rest of your life would help."
"I am not opposed to learning from him first. It could be a mitigating factor as well."
"If he won't squeal then let's leave his fate to Oleg. We know roughly where they is and we've got a set of tracks coming here and a set going back," Zort says.
Zort retrieves one of the horses that Didier managed to herd. "Let's get to cloppin'."
"Then, why did we bother waiting for him to wake up?" asks Treetopper.
"Kid, give us a good reason not to kill you. Good information about your crew and what you're willing to do for the rest of your life would help."
"Well...I fought in the war before. My farm got burnt down, wife got kilt. Then we lost. Now there ain't nothing left for me. I got no money to buy new land, and no heart to start over again without Annabelle. Don't mean I wanna die, 'r nothin'. Jus' can't see I have many other options."
Treetopper has no remorse for the kid but has no reason to eat him. If he was a better goblin, he might encourage Oleg to take a chance to reform him. But he isn't, so he won't.
With his rifle cleared, he reloads it with ammo from the bandits and gets Ozark ready to ride.
"Let's find their camp and end this," Didier says.
Oleg takes over watching the captive. He doesn't kill the boy, instead keeping him locked up for now. "Might find some use for him. I von't kill unless I hawe to."
The marshals in the meantime, gather their gear and ride out to chase down the escaped bandit.
Treetopper and Ozark takes the lead finding the trail and setting an easy pace. He continues to watch for good sites for ambush.
Zort rambles a while about how the richness of horse meat can be estimated by the shape and depth of its hoof prints.
Dolgren nods in agreement at the plan to track and take care of the bandits. "Better that than wait here ere they seek retribution for their losses."
"I concur with this plan of action," Didier says. After securing permission to leave his wagon and mules behind for a few days, Didier rides one of the horses taken from the dead bandits, his backpack hung off the saddle.
Dolgren looks doubtfully at the horses they have 'acquired' from the bandits. "Ever have I relied on my own feet to march, with little detriment; but I see in earnest our need for haste in this matter. Therefore will I ride with thee, with no small reluctance however."
He looks sorrowfully at Manassa: he cannot ride one horse and still guide his mule. He therefore transfers all her pack over to his new ride. "I pray thee, Goodman Leveton, take good care of her ere I return; she will repay in labour her cost of feed, I vouchsafe."
Rubbing Manassa between her ears, he gives the mule a soft pat on the rump and makes his farewell.
Oleg promises to look after all the mules and wagons if the Marshals desire, free of charge. "It's the least I can for those who saved me from subjugation."
******
The group follows the tracks for five hours across the plains to the south, with the forest eventually appearing on the southern horizon and growing ever closer. They stop for an early lunch before entering the forbidding forest that constitutes the northernmost reaches of the Narlmarches. Their pace slows considerably after entering the thick woods. Another three hours of stomping through the primeval forest, following signs leaves them all exhausted.
"Best to rest for the evening." Didier says. If no one objects, he tethers his horse to a tree, and gathers fallen limbs and brush to make a fire, lighting it with magic. "If anyone can catch some game, I'd be happy to cook." the Frenchman offers.
Dolgren is continually surprised by the lack of stamina most humans have; he was just getting into his stride, and there's a lot of daylight still, even in Winter.
Nevertheless, best not to argue with those who can use magic; he blinks as Didier lights the fire with such ease. "If we must rest, then so be it; best to come upon them fresh tomorrow than weary tonight. I will keep watch."
Treetopper starts to make camp by removing the burdens from Ozark and turning him loose to hunt for his fresh meal. He scouts the immediate area of the camp before settling down.
In Dwarven, he shares his story with Dolgren over the campfire and takes his turn on watch.
Zort watches Didier light up a fire with magic. Hmmm, seems he knows The Way too. Wonder how he learned it?
"Best keep a keen eye. We're sending up smoke signals," Zort says. He mostly keeps to himself but mutters some words to Gus now and again. He reloads his revolver and eventually takes a nap with his top hat resting over his face.
Treetopper notices some small, reptilian tracks near the camp when he is making his circuit. They appear to be heading slightly south of the marshal's camp.
As Treetopper sits at the magically started campfire, he offers, "I found some small, reptilian tracks near our camp while I was making my circuit. They appear to be heading slightly south of the camp. Anyone good at knowing what they could be?"
"I was never much interested in bugs, birds, and lizards. My studies were in history, cooking, music, and," he smiles, "fancy words. Could mean food though, I've heard the Arabs eat lizards, and I've grilled a snake or two in my time."
Dolgren follows Treetopper to investigate the tracks, possibly see how fresh they are and how many of the creatures there were; and any other information he can glean from their footprints
They are fresh tracks, less than a day old by the look of things. There appear to have been three of the creatures, who are bipedal.
"I am loth to interrupt our current task afore it is completed - unless these tracks head toward the Leveton's fort, my counsel would be to address the bandit scourge ere we pursue this new mystery."
In common with most dwarves, Dolgren is temperamentally unsuited to multi-tasking: stick to what you're doing, finish it, and start something else afterward.
Zort continues snoozing underneath of his top hat.
"I agree. Unless someone knows something about these tracks, we should stick to the plan." Treetopper agrees.
With that decided the Marshals return to their camp. They set up a watch rotation of Didier, Treetopper, Dolgren, Zort with three hour watches. It's only evening after all, and there's no sense in beginning tracking again until the next morning. Although everyone except Didier has no trouble with the dark.
The night passes with nothing out of the ordinary happening. Once the sun goes down a light snow begins to fall, and by morning two inches have accumulated. Tracking will be considerably more difficult now. The horses snort and stamp in the morning cold, eager to set off. The sun's warmth is welcome, as the Marshals prepare to depart.
Treetopper awakes to the snow accumulation and works to find some warmth for himself and Ozark. He wonders how Dolgren took his story about his friend Durnim, because he was taciturn last night. But Durnim was like that too taking days to digest new information some times.
When camp is broken and their tracks are covered, Treetopper starts looking for the tracks that the snow has not covered.
"Merde! I hate snow." Didier says when he rises after an uncomfortable sleep. He continues, now muttering, "We should have brought the wagons." He ensures that the fire lasts long enough to brew coffee for the group, and offers each a few lumps of sugar if they prefer, taking two lumps himself.
The Marshals trudge all day through the snow again, and still haven't come to the bandit camp yet. They lose the trail several times and by the afternoon they are very cold and tired. Luckily it hasn't snowed any more since the night before.
"Let's make camp. No sense blundering into their hideout cold, hungry and tired." Treetopper suggests. He repeats his routine of sweeping the area for tracks and taking care of Ozark before himself.
Dolgren has spent the day deep in thought, absently following the tracks and brushing aside the snow as it intrudes on his awareness. Could a dwarf have taught a goblin of his own free will? Dolgren fought against the confederacy out of duty to the union rather than for the slaves; but if someone like Treetopper is the result, then he is glad of it. Not naturally expressive, he nevertheless does his best to convey this to the goblin.
To be sure, there were some gaps in the story (what really happened to the other goblin, for example?), but he is willing to overlook them, at least for the time being. He will save his questions for another time.
"I concur. Best to rest and take them with fresh eyes tomorrow. I will keep watch. "
Zort sings a raspy, goblinoid folk song about working all your life for hobgoblins until ones fingers are worn down to the knuckles.
Aside from the normal game tracks one would expect to see in this kind of forest, there's nothing unusual that Treetopper notices around their intended campsight. The same watch order as before is set up, and the group feels the beginning of routine settle in. Each of the marshals is good at certain camp tasks, and the men soon have an unspoken agreement about which work is whose.
The evening and night pass without incident. Luckily, the clear skies hold and no more snow falls. Dawn is accompanied by the smell of salt pork boiling in water with beans - the best breakfast Zort can manage on the trail.
Gus squeaks in disapproval at the breakfast. Zort grunts. "Quiet you. Else we might get to wonderin' how a rat tastes."
Treetopper enjoys the pork and beans. It's clear that he has survived with far less flavorful meals.
The tracks lead the marshals another three miles south, towards the banks of the Thorn river. They merge with a game trail, and eventually the game trail widens into what is clearly an oft-used path. The marshals must be close now.
"We must be close now. I say we make a hidden camp off the trail. Then, we approach at night. Perhaps, some of us sneaky ones can go take a peek beforehand." Treetopper offers.
"We lost enough time as it is and we don't want to risk being caught with our pants down first. I say we move full force at night. Reckon if they're all human like the last bunch then we'll have the advantage." Zort begins his nervous mannerism, fidgeting with the rim of his hat and spinning it in circles as if turning a wheel.
With a nod, Zort motions towards Didier. "French can fire when he's able."
"I can make due in the night. It is a good plan," Didier says, stroking his mustaches alternately with one gloved hand. "It would be best to camp far enough away that we don't find our own heads in the guillotine, though, and any fire should be hidden."
"I like that plan - it makes the most of our abilities and may prove decisive against their numbers."
Dolgren considers the idea of scouting. "Mayhap some report of their disposition would be useful, ere we charge in. Can you be sure you will not be seen?"
So the marshals head off the trail covering their tracks and make a hidden, fireless camp.
Treetopper replies to Dolgren, "Maybe a couple of us sneaky folk could go take a peek to get the layout of their camp and identify the guard positions. It would help figure out which way to approach with the human."
After dusk, Treetopper leads a scouting party to take a peek at the hideout. He leaves Ozark and his rifle at their camp. He has no desire to be seen or heard, so he takes his time. His goal is to identify guard stations, entrances, and general layout, as well as answer the question: where is the best way to bring the group?
Zort hasn't made use of his furtive nature in a long while. Sneaking around ain't part of his daily life. Selling oils to humans with stags, well that's another story.
Zort remembers the last time he snuck 'round. He came upon his hob masters, asleep. Before he knew it, their throats gurgled red and his dagger was messy. It's not a day he remembers often but it was also the day he met Gus.
Zort drops his top hat on the ground. Won't be needin' that. Besides, makes me easier to spot. Gus crawls out of the hat, crawls up Zort's leg, and into a jacket pocket.
Zort joins Treetopper.