A group of knights with spare horses tied to their saddles seemed to have just returned. Colonel Frost must be back! he thought, taking a few steps down the stairs before he realized he had forgotten his boots. Smacking his forehead in annoyance, Burchard dashed back to his bunk for his boots and tugged them on before running full speed into the courtyard.
“Colonel!” he shouted. Colonel Frost turned stiffly in the saddle and waved.
Burchard skidded to a halt in front of the colonel’s horse and held the reins steady while he dismounted.
“Thank you for sending help. Captain Thomas was able to get everyone patched up enough for us to ride here,” said Colonel Frost.
Burchard nodded and opened his mouth to say something again when General Wolfensberger walked over. “Colonel Frost, glad to see you in one piece,” the General said in a cold voice. “Let’s go into my office so we can discuss what happened.”
Without another word the General turned on his heel and led the colonel in the direction of his office. Burchard watched them depart for a moment before turning his attention to the others in the courtyard. He volunteered to help, ferrying the extra horses into the barn where grooms were waiting to untack and feed them.
An hour later, when the last horse was settled in its stall, Burchard realized he hadn’t eaten. By then, his stomach was making loud gurgling noises, letting everyone know he was hungry. Burchard made his way to the kitchen, hoping Cook wouldn’t mind feeding him in there. He wasn’t sure he was ready to face whatever criticism the knights in the dining hall might deign to throw his way.
Pushing the door open, Burchard was surprised to see Ruschmann had beat him to the kitchen. His friend was sitting at the table in the corner with Lady Gladys. They both smiled at him and beckoned him over.
“Thank you, both of you, for bringing my father home,” Lady Gladys said warmly.
“We didn’t do anything,” Burchard mumbled, blushing.
Lady Gladys clicked her tongue. “You came here exhausted to make sure that help would reach them in time. In my book, that deserves thanks.”
Burchard looked away and saw Cook heading their way with a platter of bowls of stew. “You two didn’t eat yet?”
Ruschmann laughed. “We did, but that was a few hours ago. We thought we could join you with a second bowl whenever you woke up.”
“Oh,” Burchard said softly. He slid into his seat and Cook set down his bowl of stew and a piece of bread hot out of the oven. He took a bite of the bread before remembering his manners. “Thanks,” he said to Cook. She waved him off and went back to the stove.
The three friends spent the rest of the day playing cards. Burchard was glad to have some time to relax after the chaos of the day before.
After dinner, when the two squires were helping the kitchen staff clean the dishes from the evening meal in the dining hall, Sir Peter came in.
Ruschmann noticed the knight first. “Sir Peter,” he greeted.
Burchard raised his eyes from his task for a moment and gave his knight master a brief nod before returning to scrubbing the large copper pot. The kitchen was fairly empty for the moment, so when Sir Peter started speaking, it was easy to hear him.
“Tomorrow we will resume our training. By then, there should also be more information about what the General’s plan is to tackle the rebels going forward and what role, if any, the two of you will have.” Sir Peter paused. “Make sure you get plenty of rest tonight,” he gently reminded them, before snagging a roll out of a basket and heading into the castle.
The next morning, Burchard was walking toward the dining hall when the General intercepted him. “Squire, a word.”
Burchard carefully kept his face blank and followed his father down the hallway, presumably out of earshot of anyone within the dining hall. He stopped just a hair before he ran into his father’s back.
The General turned and gave him a dark look. “I was informed that you left the gear of several of the knights in your group in the mud on the road when you were under Colonel Frost’s command. Is this true?”
Burchard inhaled slowly through his nose. “Sir, Colonel Frost chose to relieve me of the extra gear I was carrying. I was not permitted to retrieve it from the road.”
“I see. Were you given a direct order by Colonel Frost?” the General asked softly.
Burchard spoke carefully, knowing that if his father didn’t believe him, he would likely get put in the stocks or whipped, or worst case, both. “Yes, he ordered Squire Ruschmann and me to leave the gear and for the group to continue on its way.”
“Were you aware that gear critical to the outcome of the fight was left on the road?” the General demanded.
“No, sir. When the bags were given to us to carry, we were not informed of their contents. The orders Sir Windemere and Sir Tiniel gave us were to obey any orders given, whether by Colonel Frost or one of the other knights. To my knowledge, we followed the orders explicitly,” Burchard explained.
“Very well. I will confirm what you have said with Colonel Frost.” The General turned on his heel and walked down the hallway, the cadence of his boots echoing on the stone long after he was out of sight.
Burchard let out his breath. Whew, that was close. He turned slowly back toward the dining hall and his breakfast.
The two squires and their knight masters fell back into their training routine over the next two days. Hand-to-hand combat, sword work, and archery in the mornings with mounted practice in the afternoons.
On the third day, a rather cold and dreary morning, Sir Peter walked up to both squires as they were heading out of the barracks toward the training yard. “Change of plans for today. The General wants the two of you to go on an overnight scouting assignment to check out the area to the northeast.”
“Northeast? But the rebels are in the northwest,” protested Burchard.
Sir Peter held up his hands. “I am just relaying the orders.”
“Which squad are we going with?” Ruschmann asked.
Sir Peter shook his head. “You’re not going with a squad. It will be just the two of you. No one else is available.”
Burchard gazed at his knight master in uncertainty. “Where are you going to be?” The General had been sending him and Ruschmann to do occasional scouting with other knights, but never by themselves. He wondered what had happened to make the General change his tactics.
Sir Peter sighed deeply before answering. “I am going on patrol with two squads. I will be gone for a full week. When you return, Sir Daniel should be able to take over your training, Burchard.”
