Sergeant Hecht
[hr]

"Carefully now." Hecht spoke quietly as Welsers litter was maneuvered into the yard of the large house they'd been quartered in. It was filled with troopers in various stages of relaxation, most of them sound asleep in the warm sunlight that filtered through the trees surrounding the yard. The sound of wind in the leaves melded nicely with the rumble of the river, almost concealing the tramp of boots and jingle of supply wagons as the main army marched through.

A company of infantry had been detached to bury the village dead, they were Rhaetians afterall, and they moved throughout the smaller houses to do their horrid task. A few of them cast resentful looks toward the cavalry but the majority toiled away in relative silence, they had seen the dead horses in the streets and no one could ignore the pile of dead that had been dragged from the bridge.

"Here we are." Hecht, carrying the front end of the litter, arrived at the small space they had cleared for Welser in a corner of the yard. It was near the stables and bore the strong earthy smell of horses. She groaned as they set her down and opened her eyes slightly to look at him. He smiled. Her blonde hair was twisted about her face but her blue eyes were clear and alert.

"There you are, out of the Inn. Sleep if you can, I'll see to it you get some food." He stood and turned away, eyes scanning the yard until he caught sight of a face he hoped Welser wanted to see. 

"Trooper Hielscher." The young man hurried over and stopped, his face wreathed with concern as he looked from the Sergeant to his friend on the ground. "Make sure Welser is comfortable and gets what she needs. We're due to ride out in two days time and we need her to be ready."

Hielscher nodded and quickly stepped past Hecht, kneeling down next to Welser and taking her hand, talking quietly and earnestly to her. Hecht left the pair, his boots pushing up little tufts of dust as he strode across the yard toward the main house. 

Trooper Toman stood sentry on the door and he nodded to the sergeant as he stepped over the black rock threshold. The house itself was of a generous size, white washed and trimmed about the door and windows with black. Part of him wondered if he could come back someday and buy the place. The owners were dead. They had been found shot in the yard along with their servants and dogs. Burying them had been an unpleasant task. The women had been raped and the men likely made to watch before the end came. He shuddered.

The short hallway had a door to the left that opened into a sitting room and another to the right that would take him into a substantial kitchen. He followed the smell of cooking into this room and smiled at the sight of a huge cauldron bubbling in the massive fireplace. The smell of wood smoke and cooking meat made him feel homesick for the first time in a long time. He nodded to Wilhelm, a bakers son turned squadron cook, and Schuster who had been pressed into service as his assistant. 

Corporal Heine sat in a corner of the kitchen munching on a apple that he waved at Hecht. There was an orchard outside that had more fruit than men and horses could eat. "Frederick, how're you now?"

Hecht smiled and sat with his friend, his sword banging against the stool. He plucked an apple from the basket on the small table and bit into it, savouring the crisp crunch and sweet juice.

"Managing, Domenik, managing. Moved Welser to the yard. She seems to be coming along and with any luck she might be able to ride in a few days. Surgeon says her wounds aren't fatal and likely wont even slow her down."

"Luck of the devil then." The Corporal replied as he slung the apple core out the window into the field beyond. "Shame about Jager and Muller."

"Yes, but nothing can be done about that. How're we doing for remounts?" The never ending shortage of cavalry mounts had been an issue before the regiment marched, but it was going to be worse now with so many killed on the bridge.

"Not to bad, actually..." Heine replied. "We're up one. More men down than horses lost. Kraus sent a spare mount over for Welser this morning, she should be able to ride with us. Her horse was butchered by the infantry as they marched through. Poor things head was gone. It probably took the canister rounds that would have otherwise killed her."

"Lucky indeed. Though I doubt she feels that way." 

"The lucky rarely feel lucky in battle." Heine replied. Hecht nodded. His Corporal had far more combat experience than he did and he was painfully aware of his shortcomings. Only Heines desire to tell officers exactly what he thought of them had prevented him being given command of A-Squadron.

"Well I'll get to my rounds." Heine said, rising from his stool and stretching his arms wide so that his back cracked. He sighed in relief. "Eat something, Frederick, you'll need it."

He gave a friendly wave to the two troopers who were pulling roasting meat off the fire, grabbed another apple, and vanished out the door.