The Imperialists had decided to lock down the camp. This was to allow more time for reinforcements to arrive and secure the fort. No one was to come or go. Zipper and Delta went back to sleep.

They woke up some time later in the afternoon. Gwen and her wolf were still asleep. “Let’s check out the camp”, suggested Delta.

The Imperialists were in good spirits, greeting the mercenaries cheerfully. Apparently, all the bodies in the cart had been aware and heard everything that had been going on. They were a lot more familiar with Zipper and Delta than they were with them. But most of them didn’t have a good view and wanted more details. Zipper was happy to oblige, embellishing the details extravagantly. The handful of recruits who had deserted from the Montihouse cause listened in amazement.

“Sounds like a good story”, said a sarcastic voice next to Delta. She turned and it was the Montihouse Lieutenant. He didn’t seem to be under any restrictions, other than missing his weapons.

Delta shrugged. “We got lucky.”

He grunted. “Lieutenant Bickerstaple”, he said by way of introduction. “I didn’t catch your name.”

Delta nodded. “Delta. I guess Captain Delta now. Wight’s Brigade.” She looked at the troops but was focused elsewhere. “The rest of the brigade was lost in the battle at Cleres. I kind of inherited the company.”

The Lieutenant nodded and spat. “I heard it was kind of a rout down there”, he said.

“I don’t think it was that bad”, said Delta. “The line got disrupted and everyone was split. I ended up in the smaller half and got caught. The larger half ran off.”

“They killed the Count”, said Bickerstaple.

Delta looked at him quizzically. “Are you sure?” She nodded at Zipper. “I would have expected to hear the bragging over that.”

“He made it back to Montihouse and died of his injuries”, said Bickerstaple.

“Ah”, Delta nodded. “May Grave Keeper guide his soul.”

“Well”, said Bickerstaple, sighing. “He’s got a daughter. I’ve heard she’s taken command. The fight continues.” He shook his head. “Good for business, eh?”

Delta grimaced. “I’d be happiest with simple garrison duty.”

“How about guard duty?” he asked.

She looked back at him, appraising. “Lieutenant Tancredi said you might want an escort.”

He spat again. “They’re letting us go, but without our ‘instruments of war’, as they put it. You, yourself, have seen that there are wild things about. My men are… well, maybe not good, but they’re fighters. But you can’t do much with just harsh language. So, yeah, having a couple of poles to make brigands think twice is worth promising you the Count’s gold.”

Delta nodded. “How many?”

“Seventeen, including me”, he said.

“Any wounded?’ she asked.

“None that can’t walk”, he answered.

“One of ours is down. We’ll need help with that”, said Delta.

“That goblin?” he sneered. “I don’t think so. Just gut it and leave it.”

“She’s one of my troops”, said Delta, matter-of-factly. “Got the paperwork here. Irregular cavalry.” She looked him in the eye. “If you hire us, you hire all of us.”

The Lieutenant met her gaze for a while, then looked away. “Suit yourself.” He nodded towards the Imperialist Lieutenant, who was listening to Zipper’s tale from the edge and laughing. “Mr. High-and-Mighty says we can go tomorrow. If we leave at first light, we can probably make it all the way down to Montihouse before dark.”

“Sounds good”, said Delta. “We’ll be ready. Do you want me to see how many canteens and rations I can talk them out of, or do you want to handle it?” she said.

He spat and glowered. “You do it. Talking to these smug bastards leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”

Lieutenant Tancredi was pretty easy going about extra rations. He was happy to let her take as much as they could carry. Other than a dig about how he expected the others wanted it more for selling on the sly than to keep them fortified for their one-day hike, he gave her free reign.

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When Zipper eventually ran down, Delta collected her and reported to the mess hall to help with dinner.

“Why do we have to help?” complained Zipper.

“One: Cooking is better than cleaning”, said Delta. “Two: we need to get an early start tomorrow. Three: if they accept our offer to help, then they won’t ask if they should be feeding us at all.”

“Hmm”, mused Zipper. “That last point is certainly worth peeling a few turnips over.”

Their help was much welcome, and they were delighted to have volunteers, which saved them the trouble of cajoling others. It drove from their minds the question of if they should be feeding people not on their payroll.

But they quickly and efficiently got the job done and left the complaining about the quality of the food, the facilities, and everything else to the regulars.

They were sent on their way with extra portions, scraps, and a skin of wine with thanks from the rest.

“Well, it’s not their usual quality, but they made up for it in quantity”, said Zipper. “I’m not sure even I can eat the rest you’re bringing.”

“Have you forgotten”, said Delta. “We’ve got more mouths to feed.”

Zipper slapped her forehead. “Why yes, that fact did seem to have left my tiny little mind.” She chewed her lips. “I hope she’s all right. We should have checked in on her.”

“I did a few hours ago”, said Delta. “While you were holding forth.”

Zipper grinned sheepishly. “I don’t get to play the hero all that often.”

“She was sound asleep then, it’s a lot darker now”, said Delta. The sun had set during dinner, but there was still light in the sky. “Let see how she’s doing now.

They opened the tent flap and looked around. Gwen was sitting cross legged against the central pole, with her wolf sitting, alert, next to her. Delta smiled and, slowly, moved forward with the plate of food out, and put it on the ground in front of her. Gwen stared at the two of them impassively but did a quick side glance at the food.

“How about I just leave the tent flap open”, said Zipper, “Instead of lighting a lamp.”

“Good idea”, said Delta. She bent down again and put a plate of scraps and bones in front of the wolf. Its ears pricked up and it made a little whine in its throat. It looked from the bowl to Gwen expectantly.

Gwen looked at Delta hard, and then sighed. She nodded to the wolf and made a clicking sound. It jumped on the bowl and immediately started crunching the bones.

Delta sat in front of Gwen, in a similar position, although her knees didn’t really want to bend like that. Zipper just sprawled nearby. “You should eat it while it’s warmish”, she said. “I can’t vouch for it once it goes cold.” She made hand gestures to emphasize her point.

Gwen leaned forward, still watching them closely, and picked up the bowl. She smelled it, then picked out a chunk of something. She put it in her mouth, chewed a bit, looked stoic, and swallowed.

“Ah”, said Delta. She moved to the side, rummaged around in her pack, and pulled out a belt and pouch. She then put them down next to Gwen.

Gwen eyed them, put the bowl down, and picked up the stuff. She drew a knife from a sheath attached to the belt. She looked at them again, measuringly. She then examined the pouch, and found it as she left it, with the addition of her mercenary registration papers.

Delta pointed at the papers, and pointed at the knife, and then the rest of them. “You’re one of us now.”

“Welcome to the tribe!” said Zipper, cheeringly.

Gwen put the pouch to one side, picked up the bowl, and began eating with the knife.

Delta filled in Zipper on the morning’s assignment and added some speculation about the Lieutenant and that Montihouse had a new Countess.

When Gwen had finished, Delta patted her knee. “Let me check you over quick and see how magic that potion was.”

Gwen looked at her, put the bowl down, and kind of sagged. Delta sighed and helped straighten her legs out.

“It didn’t fix her legs?” asked Zipper. Delta shook her head. “When she was sitting up like that, I thought for sure it had.”

“It’s not something fixed by bed rest”, said Delta. She had eased Gwen down into a prone position, and then started feeling parts of her body, from the extremities inwards. “The bruising is all gone”, she said, after examining under some of her clothes. “There’s your magic for you. The fact that she can move at all without screaming is a miracle in and of itself.” She found something to use as a bedpan, which Gwen did with great embarrassment.

Zipper emptied it without a word and started rummaging in her pack when she came back. “I have some spare stuff in here”, she said. “She’s more my height than yours.” Gwen’s clothes had been pretty messed up between the damage she took falling and having them cut off of her. Zipper was a lot stockier than her, but height wise was a pretty good fit. “I’ll stash these and see what I can do with them. I’m not a genius with a needle, but I can do basic stitching.”

When Gwen got over her embarrassment, she looked on with surprise as they fussed over getting her gear sorted. They got enough clothes for her to be covered and made sure the belt worked over it. The hood was the only original part still in good condition. It was full dark now, and they closed the tent flap and did light a lantern, but they placed it behind a crate so there was only low lighting.

“Now that’s settled”, said Delta, she had sat back down, although not cross legged this time. Gwen was propped back up against the tent pole. Zipper was putting her pack back together. “Gwen”, said Delta, making sure that the goblin understood that was her name. “Delta”, she said putting her hand on her chest.

“Zip, Zipper or Z!” said Zipper, her own hand on her chest.

“Let’s not confuse her”, said Delta. “Zip”, she said, placing her hand on Zipper’s chest. She then drew a circle around them all. “Wight’s Brigade.”

Delta patted her glaive. “Glaive. This is mine. This is what I fight with.”

Zipper followed suit. “Spear! Zip Spear.”

Delta then pulled out the bow they had been given by the Imperialists. “Bow”, she said, and laid it out in front of Gwen. “Arrows”, she added, putting out the four arrows they had left. “Gwen?”

The goblin picked up the bow, cautiously. Zipper showed her how to string it, which was a bit tricky from a seated position. But once strung, she could draw it. Careful to only draw the bow back a little, they showed her how to throw an arrow across the tent.

Delta patted her pouch with the papers. “Wight’s Brigade”, she said. She pointed at Zipper and herself. “We’re going to sleep now”, she mimed that. Then she pointed to Gwen and the bow. “You practice, see what you can learn.”

Gwen looked at her for a while, then nodded.