He grins a toothy grin. "Thank ye, Marshal."
You ask Gideon, "How the hell you'd even know to find us?"
Gideon gestures to where Velinor walked off to. "We was talkin' with each other. Got the news that some drill was gonna be hosted but thought it was suspicious. We's saw a caravan bound north. Velinor went after it while me and my buddy investigated the camp."
He pauses for a moment before continuing. "Two dozen guys were blockin' the command tents, claimin' it was royal business. I, frankly, thought it was bullshite. So I's had my buddy distract 'em while I snuck my way in. Found yer tent, the tent of 'er Majesty, and the quartermaster's tent all empty."
Obren speaks up next. "Gideon found me. I went and gathered up the retinue. We surrounded the two dozen traitors still in camp. Killed a couple, sent the rest packing. We held in camp for a night to rest. Next mornin', I found Duke Janowitz. He gathered up his men, and then Gideon led us over the river. We kept hidden on the westernmost edge until we saw you gettin' pursued by Rade."
Gideon nods in confirmation. "I's guessin' you's know the rest, Marshal."
"Where's the rest of the traitors?" you ask.
"No idea, Marshal. Probably fucked off to the woods. Maybe they're tryin' to link back up with Duke Mozoroff. We's put a couple in the grave, though."
A sudden call interrupts your conversation. "Obren, sir! No sign of 'em in the woods. Patrols got nothin'." The centurion, Sokol, approaches, equipped for combat.
"Cease patrols, but keep sentries on duty. Make sure they's don't try and come back," Obren orders, but then quickly glances over to you. "With your permission, Marshal."
You nod. "Get it done."
The soldier replies in the affirmative and heads off.
The familiar chaos of the camp is comforting.
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