"Can't really blame 'em, I guess," said Anse. "Self-preservation's about the most basic instinct there is. And it's not likely to be just them if things go pffftt! It'll be their wives and children, elderly parents." He sighed. "The way things seem to work in this day and age, probably even their servants would suffer for the decisions they take, if it all goes sour."
"It's helped a lot that the other Thuringian states that have joined the N.U.S. sent along a fair number of down-time lawyers and clerks to help out. It doesn't help at all that the Franconians consider Thuringians to be just as much `foreigners' as uptimers and Swedes and, overall, consider the N.U.S. to be just one more occupation force."
"Well, honest to God, what are we? Noelle, we are just one more occupation force. We may have better intentions than the others, but that's what we are."
He broke off, watching Captain von Dantz trotting his horse past them toward the front of the party. "Well. Some of us have better intentions."
The pinched look came back on Noelle's face. So strongly, in fact, that Anse involuntarily looked down at her hands, holding the reins. He was a little surprised to see that they were the smooth-skinned, rather delicate hands of a slender and attractive young woman. He'd been expecting to see heavy, gnarled fists. The sort that, arthritis be damned, hold and wield a great big ruler.
* * *
At noon, not far east of the town of Ilmenau, Anse called a halt to rest and water the horses and to have a quick lunch. As everyone else loosened the tack on the horses, Wili passed out the rations: dried hard sausage, cheese and bread, with a small apple for dessert.
"Hey this sausage is good," Gaylynn said at her first bite. "Wili, I want the recipe. Will you ask Mrs. Schultz to send it to me?"
"Ja, Dora loves it when people ask how she made food."
"You know that's mixed meat sausage, Gaylynn," Anse teased. "Bit of this and a bit of that. Venison, pork, beef—and horse, if I remember correctly."
"Nein, nicht beef. Und it is just a little horse."
"Well, whatever, it's good." Gaylynn answered. Anse noticed that the captain, however, put down his portion and ate only the cheese.
"Herr Hatfield, how long are we going to wait here?" von Dantz demanded. "We should be moving."
"I thought we would rest the horses for an hour." Anse pulled out his pocket watch. "We're about thirty minutes short of that."
"Remember, the general wants a report this year," said von Dantz sarcastically.
"Captain, the report will be a lot later if we have to walk to Suhl because our horses gave out."
"You should have brought a change of horses for the wagon, or left the wagon."
Anse restrained his temper. "And was the Swedish garrison in Grantville going to provide them? Look, my family has only three horses, these. Wili and I had to kill the former owners to get them. You might be used to traveling on other people's money, but we ain't. And the wagon is going because I want to bring something back from Suhl."
The captain got up and went to tend his horse, his shoulders stiff with anger.
That afternoon, traveling was much like it had been in the morning. The road wasn't up to the quality that was becoming standard around Grantville. But it was well marked, and the cold weather combined with plenty of travel close to Ilmenau had packed the snow into a hard surface.
Captain von Dantz was continually riding ahead. Anse, who had walked point a few times in Vietnam, was happy to leave the scouting to him. So it came as no surprise, in the late afternoon, to find von Dantz waiting, when the little convoy rounded a curve. "Herr Hatfield, there is a small village up ahead. We will spend the night there."
Anse studied the sky for a minute, then pulled out his watch. "Captain, I figure we still have a couple of hours traveling time. But if you don't want to sleep in a tent, we can stop."
Clearly the captain was primed for an argument. "You think we should press on?"
"No, in this case I think you're right. We should stop and get the horses under shelter. I'm not all that good at judging the weather, but it sure looks like we're going to get some more snow tonight. A barn to sleep in would be mighty welcome."
When they arrived at the village, though, Anse was surprised to find there were no separate barns. In a village of six houses, there was only one that had two stories, with the lower floor being a stable. All the rest were one-story with an attached lean-to providing shelter for what few animals the owners had. While four of the one-story houses had smoke coming from their chimneys, one was obviously unoccupied.