In Search of Nibelungen part II

Dearest Kirstin,

I trust that you have heard of all the trouble brewing in recent times, and so have chosen not to visit me in Freiburg. That would be as well for we have embarked on a trip to Hainzl with will last some weeks. While I have no doubt that Armin would make you more than welcome at the manor, I am not so sure that Freiburg would make you feel at ease were you on your own.

As we were preparing to depart from Freiburg and were buying supplies, we wandered into an inn to refresh ourselves. Pistol immediately began making enquiries about something called NOM. While there were no overt responses to his requests, I did notice a man look up and then make his way from the inn. I have no idea what this NOM is, but one must admire Pistol's ability to attract trouble, and I have little doubt that this will be but one more such occasion.

As we travelled south from Freiburg it was pleasing to see signs of our beloved Eisen healing itself. The first few days there were signs of rebuilding at every turn, and the sounds of laughter and happiness were everywhere despite the chill in the air as winter approaches. On the third day out we passed through a village with both Vaticine and Objectionist churches and we watched as both congregations went to Mass; all exchanging pleasantries as they entered their respective churches. It was truly a thing of beauty, and gives me great hope for the future. Of course I must also ask myself if such tolerance is possible, it could not have come before we destroyed our country!

Of course, reminders of the War are never far away, and we have seen many bands of Waisen in our travels. Perhaps moved by the display in the village, the following day Pistol and Eduarde gave all their food and ale to the next band of Waisen we saw! Pistol almost never does anything without some ulterior motive, but what could he hope to gain for himself from Waisen?

As we travelled further, the signs of recovery started to wain and we found ourselves once more in the bitter landscape we know so well. We came across the tracks of a carriage and tried to catch it up to no avail.

We then happened across some mounded earth and as we drew closer it turned out to be a mass grave, presumably for some Waisen. It was hard to see what would have caused them to die at once so we had Borstenn exhume a body to discover the reason for its death, but he was unable to find anything obvious.

We awoke next morning to find Pistol taken with gripe. As he coughed and spluttered and sneezed through the day it was hard to tell how much was a result of the gripe and how much because he had an excuse to do so.

Still we pressed on and came across the carriage we had seen evidence of two days before. It appeared to be the property of two old ladies and their retinue. The sisters von Gasten had apparently been dispossessed by the War and spent all their time thereafter travelling the country in their carriage.

They engaged us in conversation and offered us herbal tea to drink. Still wary about the mass grave we had passed, I only drank once I had seen the sisters do so first. As we spoke, they seemed to focus on the things in our histories that would have caused us pain and as each painful memory was brought to light I saw the sisters look at each other and nod. I tried to turn the conversation to the encouraging signs of recovery we had seen, but they seemed little interested in hope and happiness and instead turned to other people and other sad stories.

As we were about to withdraw to dress for dinner they offered some apple brandy made to an old family recipe. They abstained so I also claimed to not touch alcohol--drawing many muttered comments from my companions.

It turned out to be a wise decision, for as we withdrew to our tents those that had imbibed started to experience strong stomach cramps as the poison set in. As we talked it became obvious that something was amiss. They sent off six of the guards to dig latrines--an excessive number for a group of our size--and they actually disappeared over a rise before digging a latrine close at hand. There were two more horses in there group than were necessary, and the two extra horses bore the mark of Montaigne cavalry. And most damning of all the tabards of their guards bore a depiction of some cult devoted to the angel of death!

So instead of dressing for dinner we dressed for battle, but when we emerged their guards were waiting for us. It was a bitter fight, particularly with Pistol suffering from gripe and some of us suffering the effects of poison. Seeing that we could only prevail at enormous cost (if at all), and knowing that we still had our whole trip ahead of us, I swallowed my pride and took one of the old ladies hostage to secure our freedom. Hard as it is to believe, they actually thought they were doing us a favour by putting us out of our misery and seemed totally unfamiliar with the concept of hope. While we were unable to bring their work completely to a halt, I hope that we have deprived them of enough men to slow their mission.

We travel on in search of a surgeon to tend our wounds. I fear nothing but time will help Borstenn, who was so badly wounded in the fighting that the effects of the poison have rendered him unconscious and the other medically trained members of the party fear some lasting effect.

Stay safe, and should Stefan or Eva pass through perhaps you can prevail on them to stay with you until things settle somewhat. I would come myself but I fear that my current obligations cannot wait.

My love always,

Franz