Burchard gave his knight master a long look. It was obvious that Sir Peter believed this old god existed and that the cannibal knight in the dark armor was likely one of his commanders. “Why is this happening now?”
Sir Peter shook his head. “I have no idea, but it would be helpful to find out. You mentioned centaurs and druids. It is possible they know more. Did you ask them?”
“We ran into the cannibal knights after we had parted ways with the druids, so no, I did not ask them, nor do I know how to find them so that I can ask them,” Burchard said with a sigh.
“Perhaps when we go back to Camp Tooth, we will find the answers we seek there.”
Before Sir Peter could respond, the barracks door opened with a loud bang, letting in a blast of icy-cold air. Burchard looked at Sir Peter, wondering if he was expecting someone. The newcomer’s feet treaded heavily across the worn wood floors, making the boards creak and groan.
“Sir Daniel,” Burchard said with a bow from his seat. Peering at him, he realized that Sir Daniel was dressed for battle.
“Gather your things. We are moving out within the hour to Camp Tooth,” Sir Daniel announced, before turning on his heel and heading back outside. The door banged shut behind him.
“I will put this away while you put your gear together. I’m expecting the plan will be for us to spend the night at the camp and return in the morning,” Sir Peter explained before heading over to his bed.
Burchard stood up with a groan and went through a series of stretches. He was tired, and instead of resting, his father had ordered they go to Camp Tooth now. The order shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Likely the General wanted confirmation that Burchard’s story was rubbish so that he could turn to more important matters at hand, such as that Walter Pell had been at the rebel camp at Leosor Hollows.
Sir Peter gave Burchard a tired look when he appeared with Chip, just as the castle gates were opening to let the squad out. Burchard ignored the look and swung his leg into the saddle, taking the spot next to his knight master as they rode out the gate in a double wide column. He was trying to identify which squad they were with when he recognized his brother’s red-and-white-spotted horse at the front of the column. From what he could tell it wasn’t one of the usual squads—it was a bunch of first-year knights. Biting the inside of his lip, he tried fighting the growing feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach.
“Who has command of our group?” he said.
“Squire Reginald Wolfensberger,” Sir Peter replied quietly.
Burchard bit down on his tongue hard, hard enough to draw blood. There’s all the proof I need that my father thinks we made up some fairy tale about what happened. If he thought the cannibal knights were real, he would never let Reggie lead, or send a group of inexperienced knights. Lowering his eyes, he brooded over how to get his father to believe him about what had happened on their scouting mission. Maybe if I feed Reggie to the cannibal knight, he would believe me.
Chip tossed her head as Burchard accidentally tightened his hands on the reins. “Sorry, Chip,” he murmured, stroking her neck.
At midday, they reached Camp Tooth. The gate was open; guards were on the wall. Burchard had expected his brother to at least send a scout into the camp to give everyone an all-clear. To his dismay, Reggie led them right through the gate without pause. Burchard could hear Sir Peter’s breathing hitch as they crossed through the gate. Glancing down, he realized his own hands were shaking. He willed himself to control the shaking, not wanting anyone else to see how much it was affecting him to be back in Camp Tooth. I wonder how Ru is handling being back here.
The clank of plate metal drew Burchard’s attention from his thoughts. Gazing to the front of their column, he saw his brother and the knight who had been at his side dismount and approach the knight in darkened armor who seemed to be in charge. The knight in darkened armor removed his helmet from his head and relief washed over Burchard as he realized the man looked exactly like he should, no tattoos anywhere in sight. Captain Volrain was alive. Words were spoken that Burchard couldn’t make out. Then, his brother’s hand waved in the air, motioning for everyone to dismount. Knowing disobeying would only cause more problems with the General, Burchard kept his lips clamped shut and dismounted, then waited for their next orders, his face a blank mask.
He didn’t have to wait long. Reggie walked over to him when he concluded the discussion with the knight in darkened armor.
“I have no idea why you spun that tale for Father, but there does not seem to be anything amiss here. We will spend the night, and I will be given a tour of the camp so I can inspect it.” Reggie’s lip curled in a sneer. “This was a waste of time.” Then, Reggie turned toward Sir Peter and gave the knight a mocking bow. “I am sad to inform you that there is not enough space for you, Sir Tiniel, or the two squires. There is a clearing outside of the camp at the edge of the trees that should be suitable for your needs.”
“Thank you for informing me. We will go prepare our camp now,” Sir Peter said with a formal bow—completely unnecessary for a knight to a squire, Burchard mulled, but probably a wise decision given the squire was Reggie.
Sir Peter offered Burchard the reins for his horse. “Hold Mort for me, and I will go tell Sir Daniel.”
Burchard nodded. Although annoyed his brother had not wanted to make space for them inside the camp, part of him was glad that he would not have to sleep within the camp walls. He could not shake the feeling that something was wrong here.
Sir Peter returned with Sir Daniel and Ruschmann following on their horses. Sir Peter quickly took Mort’s reins and swung into the saddle with Burchard doing the same. None of the knights in the squad said anything as the four of them rode out of the gate and toward the indicated clearing.
The field they had to cross was larger than Burchard had thought originally. The sun was beginning to set as they unpacked their gear. The night would be cold enough to warrant a tent. Burchard found himself grateful that his knight master had told him to pack one, just in case.
“Are we building a fire?” Ruschmann asked. Burchard busied himself setting up the tent but was curious to know what the answer would be.
Sir Peter nodded. “Yes. Reggie was very specific in his directions. Everyone within earshot knows where we are, so I don’t see what difference a fire will make, other than it would help us stay warm.”
Burchard could hear the clicking of rocks hitting each other. Sir Peter was a stickler for putting a ring of rocks around a fire. Ruschmann wandered over and helped Burchard anchor the tent to the ground in case it got windy.
“Thanks,” he murmured as Ruschmann hammered the last stake.
Ruschmann was about to respond when Sir Daniel began speaking to Sir Peter behind them. Sir Daniel’s gruff voice carried to them. “I know you have records of these cannibal knights existing, but are you sure that your squire wasn’t just making things up to pester General Wolfensberger? It is no secret that the general despises his middle son, or that Burchard constantly toes the line with the rules.”
Sir Peter replied, “Yes, I am confident he was not spinning a tale. Didn’t Camp Tooth feel off to you?”
Burchard waited for Sir Daniel’s response, but it never came. He must have given some nonverbal reply.
Sir Peter began speaking again. “At least tell me you trust my instincts.”
Sir Daniel’s chuckle rumbled through their campsite. “Your instincts have saved my hide more times than I care to admit. Of course I trust you.” A pause, and Burchard wished he could see what they were doing. “I just don’t think our word and that of our squires is going to be enough to convince the General that he needs to visit Camp Tooth himself. Especially not with Reggie in here.”
Unable to help himself, Burchard snorted.
“Why don’t the two of you come here instead of lurking by the tent,” Sir Daniel suggested.
The two squires approached the growing fire and sat across from the knight masters.
“Much better,” Sir Daniel said.
“I don’t want to provoke whatever is within those walls into an attack to prove my point though,” Sir Peter said thoughtfully.
Sir Daniel nodded in agreement. “I know. I just wish we could get proof somehow.”
