HandEater was too small to carry an armored squire in a long gallop. Even so, I had to commend him for doing his utmost. At first, the road flew by underneath his hooves, but in short order, I heard him wheezing and I knew he couldn’t keep up the pace.

Each moment, something terrible could be happening at my home. If I arrived in time, I was certain that I could drive a group of scoundrels off. Otherwise, why had they sent a man to delay me? However, HandEater was already winded. If he collapsed on arrival, I’d lose half of my fighting strength.

In the end, I had to swallow down my fears and pull back on the reins. It was the only rational choice. HandEater seemed to do better with my weight at a slower trot, and I couldn’t ask for more than he could give. Regardless, he seemed to sense my urgency, and he pushed ahead each time he got his wind back. I found myself restraining his stride so that he wouldn’t wear himself out.

It took more than a bell before we arrived back at my holdings. I knew that was more than enough time for a group of mercenaries to chop through my doors and break in. My only hope was that Grit could hold out a defense while my serfs ran immediately to get help from my neighbors.

Unfortunately, as I approached my front gate, I could see that my latter wish had already been dashed. There were two armed riders watching over my subjects’ houses, ready to ride down anyone who tried to escape. Obviously, these two wouldn’t harm the serfs if they didn’t have to, but who among my serfs would take such a risk leaving their family behind to suffer the consequences?

When the horsemen saw me free my spear, they raced away, headed around to the rear of my house. I could see a larger gathering there, so I kneed HandEater to follow, but then pulled back as my subjects boiled out of their cabins, directly into my path.

“Squire Deft! Your house! Your family!”

“I KNOW ALREADY! CLEAR THE WAY!”

“We are armed and ready to assist you!” Admittedly, they had taken up staves, hoes, and pitchforks. It was an admirable sign of their love and loyalty, but I didn’t want any of them to be hurt. Unless they were official levies of the Duke, there would be no recompense for them in battle.

“No! This is my given duty. You should run to my neighbors. Tell them that there are bandits!”

Several of the fastest runners dropped their improvised weaponry and took off at a sprint. My nearest neighbors were barons and squires like me. They would arrive in a seething rage at the news of bandits nearby, but it would be at least a bell until help could arrive. In the meantime, the rest of my serfs parted to the sides for HandEater. He forced a path through them by pure intimidation.

Looking over toward the stables, I could see the men of my night watch, still stationed there with their staves ready. Brave souls, standing up against an armed force! I’d be duty bound to reward them further. How? That was a question for later.

Even so, seeing them still waiting there was actually bad news. If the lookouts were still on duty when the bandits arrived, they must have struck immediately after I’d left? In that case, they must have spied on my trip yesterday since they somehow knew my plans for today. On a positive note, the sight of the watchmen did offer me a measure of relief. The bandits hadn’t tried to harm or steal my horses.

Unfortunately, my house was not in the same condition. When HandEater rounded the corner, I saw the rest of the mercenaries in defensive positions surrounding the back door. I counted almost two hands of men, though poorly armed. A few had spears, but most had shorter swords. A few only had staves, axes, and clubs. Even so, they all had a desperate look in their eyes, marking them as dangerous men.

The door itself had not been broken, it was standing ajar - meaning there were more men inside. From the sign of things, they must have struck by surprise, making it to the door before the alarm was raised. Once they'd wedged it open, my family couldn't close it against their mass of bodies. After all, the door opened inwards because he hinges were on the inside, otherwise that would be a weak point.

Looking over my foes, it was obvious that the two mounted horsemen were central to the enemy formation. These two had leather jacks and cavalry swords, but none of that concerned me. I knew the measure of mercenary soldiers. They would likely rout when I lowered my spear for a charge.

“Squire Deft! Hold your arms! We will negotiate!” One of the horsemen called out to me. This only made my job easier. He must be the leader, so he would be my primary target. I focused on him and noted his bright orange hair and beard. That would make an easy target.

“I WILL NOT GIVE PARLEY TO BANDITS!” I urged HandEater closer with my knees. Judging the best distance to begin my charge was difficult with an unfamiliar horse. The gap needed to be short enough that I could reach them at a full gallop, but not so far that the men would react and flank me.

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The leader held up his hand. “Think carefully! Perhaps you WILL parley with us? We have your wife and son at our mercy.”

Naturally, that made me pause. Grit had been captured? He was the only heir to the family name. If they killed him outside of battle, then he would die in disgrace. It would be a disaster - both for my family and me. In contrast, although my heart was torn at the thought of Constance in peril, I knew she’d want me to fight for our family’s honor.

In any case, I knew that this could all be a trick to buy time. I pointed at the man with my spear. “YOU KNAVE! PROVE YOUR WORDS!”

“See for yourself! Come ahead inside. We won’t stop you.” With that, the group in front of me dispersed, spilling away to both sides. In fact, the speaker even dismounted from his horse, sheathing his sword and walking in through the doorway.

I spent a few moments in surprise, blinking at the scene. I would lose my advantage were I to dismount. However, once I was inside the house, I would regain the upper hand due to the close quarters combined with my heavier armor. Out here, they could surround me. In there, they’d never be able to take me down.

“This is probably a trap.” I whispered into HandEater’s one good ear. I didn’t expect him to understand my words, but it reassured me to think I had any ally here at all. “You stand and watch the door. If they try to come at me from behind, you know what to do.”

Did he? Perhaps he understood my meaning better than I would have guessed. He huffed loudly at the mercenaries' two horses. They were both coursers, larger than him, but I could see both of them rolling their eyes around in fear. The situation was tense, and only a horse trained for battle could endure stress like that for long.

I rode closer to the door before dismounting. When I stepped down from the saddle, I sheathed my arming sword. It was too large for work indoors, so instead, I had my shorter sword and dagger ready when I walked in. Behind me, HandEater took up position, glaring at the remaining mercenaries. I never would have guessed that his single baleful eye could cover them all.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting inside. The kitchen ovens had been haphazardly choked, so there was black soot and smoke in the air, veiling the scene and stinging like fire inside my nose and throat.

The kitchen was a mess. Although there were no signs of a battle, no blood on the floor or gashes along the walls, the mercenaries had ransacked all of the readily available foodstuffs. That was simple theft, but I had more important concerns.

There were four men in the room with me, and it would be crowded, except they stood away, against the inner wall. The speaker from before stood in front, with his open hands held out in front of him to negotiate. The other three, fully armed and ready, surrounded a huddle of bodies in the far corner - their captives.

“Constance? Wife?”

She sat tall with her back straight and an angry fire in her eyes. The hem of her skirt that was arrayed around her had been torn, so she must have struggled before surrendering. Obviously, she was furious, but from what I could see, she was unharmed.

Progress was seated alongside, tightly hugging onto Constance. Her face was hidden against Constance's side, sobbing aloud and visibly quaking in terror. Her dress was dirty, but it was undamaged, so I assumed she had yielded immediately. Smart girl. Good for her.

The last member among the captives was smaller, so it wasn’t Grit. However, she was wearing her padded gambeson and had her scarf bandanna tightly bound around her head. As you might expect, the black rage in her dark eyes was blazing without equal. The right shoulder of her armor had been sliced straight through, and I could see blood pooling on the floor underneath her hanging arm. For some reason, she was crouching barefoot alongside the others.

What on earth had happened here? Clearly, Eu had not accepted defeat easily. The men’s weapons were all pointed at her chest. In fact, she was pinned against the wall by the points of their swords. Even so, based on her expression, I could tell she was all too eager to begin the fight again if she could.

The speaker struggled to explain the messy situation. “As you see, we have your wife and younger son at our mercy. You’ll want to commend him later. Despite his youth, he fought like a legend. Several of my men have nasty scrapes and bruises because of him. He even stabbed one of them in the back! In fact, even after we’d caught him, we had to take off his clogs because he wouldn’t stop kicking.”

“I see.” I struggled to keep a straight face. What they didn’t know wouldn’t help them. Even so, I was relieved that the man didn’t even mention Progress. As my daughter, I suppose she was beneath his notice? That was a good sign. I’d heard nasty stories about mercenaries’ foul appetites.

“Your older son and the little girl, our bounty … they’ve barricaded themselves in your storeroom.”

“Yes … so now what?” It was hard not to grin and I felt it slipping free. I’d already won, but these idiots didn’t know it yet. That storeroom door was solid. The walls around it were thick stone slate to keep it cooler during the winter. There was no easy way to break in, especially given the narrow hallways inside my house. There wasn’t enough room to swing a heavy axe.

“We know that girl isn’t yours. You took her from the Earl. Now, you'll convince those two to open up the door for us or these three here will die.”

“You'll kill hostages? Women and children? That'd be murder in cold blood! Even if some of you escape, you’d be hunted down like dogs. You’d find no quarter or mercy anywhere.”

“Oh? I don’t know about that.” He grinned.

“Hmm?” I stalled for time. Something was wrong. He seemed to think he had an out? Only the king himself could pardon such an atrocity.

His grin grew into a toothy smile, looking perfectly confident. “Well… we were hired by Earl Triumph to deliver a little girl to him. But, since then, you see … we’ve learned something. The little girl in question ... she’s actually a mage, right? That's why she's so important. In that case, a few murders here in this country won't matter if we simply leave. After all, the plainsmen won’t care a bit what happens outside their borders, will they?”

His statement wasn’t even a bluff. I knew it was foolish, but clearly he believed in his plan. From the glint of hopeless desperation in his eye, I realized I was still in deep trouble.