"Excellent security ya got there," he remarks.
You roll your eyes and reply, "Yeah, yeah, shut up and get inside."
He chuckles and steps inside.
The levity in Obren's face falls as he says, "Marshal, I'm here because we's have a… situation."
"Could you be a little more specific?"
"It's about our foraging parties. Our men encountered the rebel foragers."
You sigh and place a hand to your forehead. "How many casualties?"
"That's just the thing. They're not fighting. None of them are, as far as I've been told," he says. "One of our more… shall we say, 'enthusiastic' soldiers came to me about it. Personally, I detest snitches. It was them that gave me an extra few beatings back at the ward. But still, it's my duty to bring these things to you."
"Do you have confirmation of this report?"
"Not for meself. I've questioned some of the returning foragers about it, but none of 'em have spilled."
You stand up from your chair. "Get twenty men together. We move soon."
"Yes, Marshal."
Next
Twenty men from your retinue march behind you and Obren, who hold the front of the column. They've been geared for combat, armored and readied to kill. They have an eager disposition, with blood boiling for a fight.
You yourself are fully outfitted for combat. Strapped to your left arm is a kite shield, excellent for fighting on foot. You're wearing your bastard sword on your belt. Your helmet is attached to your belt.
You've led them on a long, indirect path to the woods. Rather than cutting through the open field and risking stepping on your own traps or even alerting the enemy, you slip out of the rear entrance and head for the road. You follow it east toward Salutis for a few minutes until the forest beside you has become thicker. And then you enter, carefully and quietly.
Obren turns over his shoulder and shushes the rowdy soldiers. You continue into the forest until the leafless limbs of the trees begin to choke the sky. Long-dead leaves, made wet with melting snow, nearly trip your column up as it marches.
After another ten minutes of slow, methodical marching, you raise a fist above your shoulder and signal a halt. You catch glimpses of a man deeper in the thicket. Obren sees him too and gives you a nod.
With slower steps, you continue, taking position behind a large pile of torn-up earth dragged to the surface with the roots of a fallen, decaying tree. From this position, you and your men can see the scene much more clearly.
Your foraging party of roughly thirty men, or at least one of them, is mingling with the rebel foraging party of roughly… fifteen or so. While they're still gathering the supplies required for camp, they're doing so alongside the enemy. They even appear to be assisting one another in the act.
You can barely tell them apart. Most of these men are mere impoverished peasants, carrying no banners. Many of them have the blue falcon of House Stiedry, the symbol of their queen, painted on their shields. Others wear tabards or surcoats painted with the royal insignia instead.
Some of the other loyalist soldiers are wearing the symbols of their local lords. You recognize the symbol of the lord of Castle Salutis. You don't recognize many of the other, more minor houses.
Murmuring breaks out among the soldiers behind you. You exchange a glance with Obren.
One of your men speaks up, whispering to you, "Hey, Marshal, they's look distracted. I's say we gut them while they ain't lookin'."
A second voice replies, "Oh, come the fuck on! They's just havin' a good time. I's ain't got it in me heart to kill men relaxin' with each other. What's the harm of lettin' them go?"
Obren harshly whispers for silence, then turns his attention back to you. "Your call, Marshal. But look—" He points toward a depression in the river, visible through the trees from your position. "A second crossing. Much smaller, though. It's probably where the enemy crossed. If we seize it, they'll lose their only pass into the river."
A soldier who overheard this says to you, "Whoa, Marshal, we ain't actually gonna jump 'em, right? They's defenseless. It ain't right."
You look at the rebels, then back to your men, and say…