Meanwhile at the Mercenaries camp.

Resignedly you and a couple of your squad mates set about tearing down the tent and base camp the new boss had ordered set overnight. “Typical” army one of the older men had muttered. “Hurry and wait Hurry up aand wait”.

You and a few of the others wouldn’t know about that you were too new to the uniform having barely graduated your basic training. Again you accepted the menial jobs always go tot he new guys. Thats just the way of the world. Still you had to wonder what was going on.

A few weeks ago the business at the old Manor was as normal, not very disciplined but it was a good laugh. You had felt so proud the day they had issued you with your leather armour and (gasp) as sword of your own, four months of “training” under Sgt Pike had not taught you half of what you learned in the last six weeks though!

You hadn’t seen him arrive. Magister Zathabarius that is. A carriage had turned up at dusk one day and the immaculately groomed servant had ever so politely asked to see the Captain of the band. Naturally he was greeted with the usual surly compliance, even the previous officers were not going to turn away potential coin despite the standing orders not to bother them after sun down.

A few minutes later as you watched the spectacularly accoutred Carriage and the well dressed attendance standing on its footplate. Captain Markus had come half staggering out of the officers mess, to stand at the window of the carriage.

As you watched he suddenly stiffened to attention and actually saluted the “Patron” in the carriage. Nobody could hear what had been said but the impact on the captain was obvious as he wheeled about and all but sprinted back into the officers mess!