The bureaucrats of Charlemagne had ideas that were still quite creative, but as everyone knows, all bad ideas seem pretty good until they're found out to be bad, and they don't work at all in practice.
Military men are hot-tempered, and those who come down from the front lines are even more so. Designating a group of irritable soldiers for espionage work is just asking for trouble, and if they are soldiers distorted by physical disabilities, the trouble multiplies exponentially.
In vivid metaphor, it's hell.
Robbery, rape, murder... in comparison, assault was "light" by now. Ordinary gendarmes smoked and chatted with each other, occasionally casting a casual glance. The citizens hung their heads in silence, dreading that a single word might draw the demon's wrath upon them, passively watching like a herd of sheep.
"War is always robbing everyone of their most precious things."
"What did you say?"
"Nothing."
Suppressing a bitter smile, Roland whispered:
"Leave it to me."
