Muffled Drum by Erastes Read Free Book Online

he would pass on to Rudolph’s wife what the doctor had said. Even if she had, as Mathias assumed, received word of his return by telegraph, or maybe a letter was traveling somewhere ahead of them, Mathias knew his duty. Rudolph would do the same for me . As much as I do not wish to meet Rudolph’s family, and especially his wife, I must do this.
    So, lost in his own thoughts, and arguing the points back and forth, he knew he was less than an ideal traveling companion, and far less communicative than Rudolph liked. When Rudolph took control, he was so much like his old self—riding roughshod over others’ objections but doing it for good reasons—that Mathias could hardly believe the man he knew was gone. The thought of stopping came as a bit of a relief, truth be told—his arm and side were very painful. Moreover, he hadn’t checked on the dressings the night before and they needed cleaning at the very least. So he gave in to Rudolph’s order, grateful the concern was there, if nothing else.
    Goertz said there was a village ahead, and there was, much like the half dozen or so they’d passed already. Like the others, this one was half-deserted, and what people there were on the street hustled away at the sound of hooves. None of the inhabitants would even look the men in the eyes. As they neared the village’s only inn, the sound of trotting horses sounded from ahead and they just managed to get their own mounts to one side before a group of hussars clattered past—from the Twelfth, Mathias guessed, from the brief flash of the uniforms—a gun carriage bouncing behind them.
    They handed their horses to the inn’s hostler. Mathias stood a moment in the doorway, wondering what was happening back down the road to be causing so much haste. The inn was even more impoverished than the one in Gitschin. The main room showed sure signs of troops having treated it roughly. The tables were badly notched, the walls were spattered with sword cuts and gunshot, and, judging by the innkeeper’s surly and suspicious nature, it seemed likely that he’d seen enough of soldiers to last him a lifetime.
    Rudolph took charge and, by the time Mathias joined him in the bar, he’d ordered hot water, linens and any spirits they could lay their hands on. The expression on the innkeeper’s face softened a little at the sight of Rudolph’s purse, brandished liberally by Goertz, and although they hadn’t asked for any, some bread and wine were produced, along with the items asked for.
    “Now, let’s get that wound looked at.” He turned Mathias in the chair and started to undo the buttons on his jacket. The familiar action, the closeness of Rudolph, the feel of his hands were almost more than Mathias could stand, but he bit the inside of his cheek and stared at the wall as if he were a man embarrassed at the proximity. Rudolph handed the jacket to Goertz and then peeled the shirt and undershirt away.
    “Goertz.” Rudolph ordered the his batman to take his place, and any warm feelings for the nearness for another man dissolved as Goertz’s scarred face loomed a little too close to his own.
    “Your shirt’s soaked in blood,” Rudolph said. “ Gottverdammt, man, what were you thinking?”
    “Needs stitches,” Goertz said.
    “I can see that,” Rudolph snapped. “This hellhole isn’t likely to have anything useful—or if it did, the army would have stripped it bare. Go ask if there’s a doctor in the town, perhaps he has something we can use. Otherwise, we’ll have no choice but to strap him up again and rest until he heals.”
    “Rud—” Mathias stopped. “Von Ratzlaff. I’ve ridden with worse. Hellsfire, you’ve gone into battle with worse. Just—”
    “It’s a good few days’ ride to Dresden,” Rudolph said, his demeanor every bit as commanding as when he rode along the line of horses, extolling his men to death or glory. “And that’s the first place we can get you properly seen to, I’m guessing.” From