They made it to Metzre by the middle of the next day. It was a town about the same size as Montihouse, but with a modest river running through it. Unlike Montihouse, this town had walls, but they were in poor repair and the town had nearly as many buildings outside of them as were inside.

A token guard stood at the gate, but that seemed more to reinforce the goods inspectors, levying taxes on goods brought in for import. It was pretty apparent that they had nothing of commercial worth and were waved through with barely a look.

The Count’s residence was a bona fide castle, although like the city, the compound had outgrown its fortified parts. It was in better repair than the walls, but not by a lot. Their gates were much better guarded, and the nature of their business was unusual enough that it drew the attention of the castellan. Delta, dressed in her freshly laundered tabard, gave him a summary of the news she had, and left it to him to decide what priority it was for the Count to hear it.

While he decided, they were shown to the stable and allowed to unhitch their donkeys there. A page came by later and notified Delta that arrangement was being made for the Count and a few Knights to hear her report directly. He had brought some bread and a flagon for her to refresh herself with while she waited.

It took an hour or two for that to be organized. Zipper used the fine equipment of the stable to give a good currying to the donkeys. They made what Zipper chose to interpret as appreciative noises. Delta mostly paced up and down, composing her thoughts and words.

The page led her to a drawing room in the castle proper. There were fresh rushes on the flagstones, tapestries on the walls, and well made, solid wooden furniture. Count Metzre sat in the largest chair by the window. He was on the older side of middle-aged, with an impressive mustache, and fine clothes with his coat of arms embroidered richly on them. Standing around him were three other noblemen. As each bore a sword Delta presumed they were his Knights. A scattering of other pages and household staff occupied the room. They were all looking at her as the castellan presented her.

Delta took a deep breath. Facing a line of charging troops was difficult. Being the one to charge into a line of troops was also difficult. You just had to commit to it, put one foot in front of the other, and get yourself into a position as quickly as possible where your choices were very simple and straightforward, and you had no time left to question why you were there.

So, she strode forward, like it was a battle, bowed as respectfully as she knew how, and awaited the Count’s pleasure.

“You are mercenary Captain Delta of Wight’s Brigade?” asked the Count. She nodded. “And you are in service to Sir Rault of Straslais, in Montihouse?” She nodded again. “And in that service, you have brought me information that the good Knight feels I should know.” Delta nodded again. The Count nodded back, confirmations over. “I have been given a summary of that, but we should all hear your full account personally.”

Delta stood at attention and began to recite. She had this bit very practiced. Her brigade had traveled up through this area because they heard there was action and people were hiring. But she mostly focused on the battle near Cleres, and what she had personally witnessed there, and then everything subsequent that happened up until arriving at the Count. She delivered the information without inflection, and with as few personal details as possible. Trying to keep to military style reports she had seen delivered.

The Count, and some of his Knights, interrupted at points. Sometimes to ask for more detail, at other times they seemed to try to throw her off. She knew she seemed rehearsed, and at one level it wasn’t unreasonable to consider that suspicious. So, she bore that in good grace, and gave details where she could, and admitted freely to things she did not know.

The Count stroked his chin for a while after she had finished. “This is information”, he concluded. “But information without context. By your tale, Sir Rault considered you sufficiently astute and insightful to trust with formulating your own paycheck. But you present me here with facts, without the insight he seemed to put so much trust in.”

Delta bowed respectfully. “I wished you to have the facts as I witnessed them, independent of my opinions”, explained Delta. “You are, doubtless, much more experienced and knowledgeable than I am. You may come to different conclusions than my own. I am happy to also express my interpretations if you so wish. I have withheld them separate from the facts so that you are able to make your own judgement and decide if my own are just or not.”

A smile twitched the corner of the Count’s mouth. “Well spoken. Maybe this Sir Rault is not a complete fool. Please, give me what you make of these facts.”

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Delta did so. She highlighted the different perspectives on the battle near Cleres, and the careful strategic decisions that went into it. She drew a line between that and their own use of her company to deliver an unexpected ambush. Which, itself, was part of a larger feint towards Montihouse, as evidenced by the lack of troops. The pursuit of them, in particular, as carriers of information lent weight to this. From this she concluded that she expected their true intent was to make towards Avenio down the coast road through Metzre.

She also noted the specifically unusual use of magic by the Imperialist forces. Most magic she had heard tales of was more focused on personally benefiting the wielder, and of limited use on the battlefield. Whereas the magic she had seen was specifically tailored for army operations. She felt this, plus the focus on feint and strategy, made the Imperialists a much greater force to be reckoned with than otherwise.

“Sir Chardon”, said the Count to one of his Knights. “You are betrothed to a Lady from Touchelle. Our mercenary captain here speculates that Touchelle is on their likely route. Have you exchanged love letters with her recently?”

The Knight, who was quite young, blushed. “We write faithfully to one another several times a week”, he admitted. “Her latest letter is late. But not unduly so. This information now makes me concerned for her safety.”

“Mmmm”, said the Count. “Your insight is interesting, Madame Captain. But it might be a bit… amateurish. It is hard to conceive how a strategic genius might emerge from the orc lands and lead a small band to conquer Avenio. It seems far more likely that luck has had a lot to do with their progress so far and maybe you see more than is there.”

Delta stood impassively. The Count was, at least, not as dismissive as the Baronet Crebanne had been. He was watching her closely. He wasn’t finished.

“But you are well organized in your thinking, and well disciplined. I do not doubt your good intentions and faithful execution of your duty.” He turned to his castellan. “Please issue the Captain three gold shillings from the treasury as my personal thanks, over and above her payment from Sir Rault. She may make free of our stables and barracks for as long as she needs before she sets out on whatever other duties call her.” He turned back to her. “I do not think it is as serious as you present. But I also acknowledge that it may be. Certainly, these usurpers are out and about making a mess in our northern reaches. I have other sources that say as much as this. My Knights and I will discuss the new information you have given us and, at the very least, I do think I will recommend Sir Chardon visits his betrothed sooner rather than later. You may consider your duty to Sir Rault, as far as the County of Metzre is concerned, discharged.” He nodded towards the castellan. “I will have a letter sent to him to thank him and to commend your service.”

Delta bowed again, deeply, and took that as her dismissal.

Back in the stable Delta finally succumbed to a severe case of the jitters. All the stress she felt came spilling out as she reported to the others what had transpired. She oscillated between feeling giddy and nauseous.

“Aren’t you supposed to get like this before the battle?” asked Zipper.

Delta grinned weakly. “Dunno. I’m always focused going in. It’s coming out that I fall apart.”

“Sudden release of pressure”, said Zipper. “Still, it’s kind of annoying that they didn’t take you more seriously.”

Delta brushed that aside. “It’s a commander’s prerogative. Who am I? I’m only barely the Captain of a half strength squad of mercenaries. He’s not going to go running to the King based on what I say.” She stretched. Her hands were still shaking. “This isn’t our war. Our duty is done.”

“So, we’re not going to take this all the way to Avenio?” asked Zipper.

Delta shook her head. “I think this is the most serious audience we’re going to get. If they know we’ve alerted Count Metzre, they are going to look to him for confirmation, and not take what we say with any credence until then. So, yeah, we’re done. I’ll count out payroll tonight and work out how to return what is left to Sir Rault.”

“I may have some expenses to report first”, laughed Zipper.

They spent a bit of time updating Gwen on their situation and exchanging more words to fit around the news.

After about an hour there was a bit of commotion. Sir Chardon had entered agitatedly shouting for his horse to be made ready on the instant. He saw them in the corner and strode over, watching Delta intently.

“Good mercenary”, he said. “I ride now for Touchelle. I think the Count means to use me as a test of your report. If I do not return, he will know you are right.” He smiled thinly. “I fear for my fiancé. Tell me in more detail, what fate do you think awaits her and the town of Touchelle?”

Delta made it clear it would only be speculation, but he brushed that aside. He was quite happy to be prepared for the worst when it came to family. She sensed that it would go down well with the in-laws if he was able to affect a dramatic rescue.

So, she first assured him that they appeared to be happy to treat their prisoners well. So, at the worst, it would be a strategic failing, and not a personal one. Beyond that, she explained that they seemed very concerned with controlling the spread of information. They likely had the road well scouted and while it may not be hard to get there, it might be hard to get word back out again.

She said their use of magic made things hard to predict. But given that they mainly seemed to use it to make them better at what an army did normally, that it was safest to just assume they would perform the duties of an army very well. So, he should assume any he met were akin to the best he had ever fought.

He thought on this while his horse was made ready. “Fetch me a pigeon”, he called to a page. “If I find myself against a force, I shall release it and you shall judge by its return that I have fallen.”

Delta nodded. “I hope for the safety of you and your betrothed.”