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Wild Braided Flyer
186341
Isolde's hammer pulls back with a click.
"You will respect the Grand Marshall," Siegfried says.
"I am quite short, Siegfried," the Grand Marshall chuckles. "But my officer is correct, sergeant, that you are avoiding the question."
"I am your prisoner, sir," the sergeant says, "but you must understand my reluctance to divulge information that will lead to the deaths of more of my men when the blood of my two best is on my hands."
"I understand and empathize," the Grand Marshall says. "But I am in a regretfully similar position. Your information could save many Landschneckt lives, and in this particular case it has so fadged that the loaded pistol is pointing at you."
"If your best are already spent, surely the remainder don't matter so much," Siegfried says.
"Siegfried."
"Apologies, sir."
"We are here seeking a relic," the sergeant says, "that my superiors have told me will point the way to a thousand or more sleepers."
"A thousand." The Grand Marshall folds his arms. "That seems unlikely."
"Even so, sir."
"And your numbers and location, if you please, sergeant."
The sergeant swallows. Siegfried's pistol aims a little higher. "There are two hundred Carabineri in the Atropos Valley," the sergeant says. "Their camp is on the other edge of the foothills two days' northeast of here."
"And how equipped?"
"Three companies of pikemen and two of arquebusiers. And thirty cavalrymen."
"That cannot have been easy for you, sergeant," the Grand Marshall says. "Thank you. Now: What shall we do with you?"
He turns to Siegfried. "What do you think, Landschneckt?"
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