"Captain, we were figuring three or four days when we started. So even if we don't make Suhl tonight, we're still ahead of schedule. I packed tents and enough sleeping bags for everyone. Wili made sure there was hay and feed for the horses. So we should be okay if we have to camp again."
"I want—"
Anse never did find out what the captain wanted, because just then Gaylynn yelled from the wagon seat. "Wili, stop the wagon! Look over there!"
Gaylynn was down from the wagon and striding across the road before anyone realized what she was talking about. Near the road were the huddled forms of two children. They were sitting together, wrapped in a blanket that was mostly holes. Wili tied the reins to the brake lever and dismounted to help her with the translation. The American woman's German was passable, but probably not good enough to decipher what frightened children might be saying
Captain von Dantz rode back to see what the delay was. "What are you doing, woman? We have to keep moving."
"I'm tending to these children!" Gaylynn snapped back. "What do you want to do? Just leave them here to freeze?"
The captain shrugged irritably. "We can load them on the wagon and take them with us, if you insist. Quickly—we have only two hours of daylight left."
Now that he was closer, Anse could see the children were both boys, about five or six years old. He called to Rau, who was still mounted. "Jochen, ride ahead and see if there are any refugees on the road. These boys have gotten lost from their family."
"Nein," Wili called, "they live over there." He pointed toward a path that could barely be seen joining the road, about a half mile down. "They say men come and hurt their Grossvater this morning. They ran off."
"Jochen, check it out quietly," Anse ordered. Rau dismounted and headed for the woods beside the road.
Wili and Gaylynn had managed to get the boys to the wagon when Rau returned. "It looks like there are eight of them, all on foot, in a charcoal burner's cabin. They left the old man tied to a tree outside. He looks dead. They have two men keeping watch in front of the house and the rest are in the house."
Before Anse could say anything, von Dantz spoke up. "If you will permit me to make a suggestion"—the words practically dripped sarcasm—"I think we should leave Frau Reardon and Fräulein Murphy here to watch the boys and the wagon. Private Schultz will take my spare horse, and we will ride to the house and demand to know what these men are doing."
Anse was not surprised by the captain's "plan." He didn't doubt the man's courage, but he had about as few brains as a rabbit.
"Well, that might work, but Wili doesn't ride. And if the bandits decide to make a fight of it, we'll be out in the open with no cover."
"Herr Hatfield, these are bandits, not trained troops."
In Anse's experience, the distinction in the seventeenth century between "bandits" and "trained troops" was a lot fuzzier than von Dantz made it out to be. "It never hurts to have an edge, Captain. Jochen, Wili and I will sneak up on the house through the woods. Then you and Lieutenant Ivarsson ride in with the wagon, with Gaylynn driving, to where the path from the house comes to the road before you ride up to the house. Noelle and the boys can stay in the wagon bed, where they'll have some shelter if the stuff hits the fan. Gaylynn can cover the front of the house and give you some support. The three of us in hiding can give the bandits a nasty surprise if they try to attack you. And it gives us six guns instead of four."
After a moment, von Dantz nodded. "Do not fire until we arrive."
"Give us ten minutes to get in position." Anse handed the captain his pocket watch.
Rau went to the rear of the wagon and started digging in his pack. Anse was not surprised to see him pull out two hand grenades. Rau had developed a positive love for grenades since he discovered you could fish with them.
As the three entered the woods, Anse asked, "How are you going to light those?"
Rau held up a Zippo lighter. "Chief Schwartz gave it to me. He likes fish."
When they arrived at the house, it was much like Rau had described it: a simple one-room structure with one door and only two windows, one on each side. Not much more than a big hut, really. Definitely a charcoal-burner's place, from the nature of the tools scattered around.
The window panes appeared to be made from thin leather and were partially open. There were two outbuildings: a simple privy and a small shed. The shed, which was open on the front, was the home of a large donkey, which was inside. The privy was on the opposite side of the house from the shed and looked in need of repair. From the woods they could see the body of an old man tied to a tree close to the shed. Two bandits were standing guard outside the front door to the house.