Private Monroe handed him a thick envelope bearing the seal of the spider.

Ahead of them, Coronet Kimchi was still trying to figure out how to use the supplied implements. Muk had forbidden his quartermasters from directly helping the junior officer.

They could shout directions from across the way though.

And they did.

"Coronet Kimchi, you knead the dough. Yes, with your forepaws. You washed your hands right, sir?"

"The flame won't catch until the tinder … good job sir."

When he was younger he was given the same test. That he had waited this long to do this to the coronet was proving to have been an effective way to get the mouse to listen.

"Tell me about these chickens, as I have never seen someone tame one quite so well. Except for one lovely lass," he said, turning to the scout.

"Milord, don't you think one of your Soldiers should help him cook?"

Muk looked up from the bench he had been using to read his correspondence.

"They are helping him."

Private Monroe visibly suppressed a smile below his eyes.

"This Society paper, you wouldn't by chance know of this Miss Freya Uki, would you?"

Muk watched the scout with interest. There were letters and then there were firsthand accounts of events. Lady Bluefooted’s paper was probably second-hand if not hearsay.

The worn wooden bench was smooth from use. It had folded down from the side of a supply cart and it was spacious enough for four on each of the sides it was on.

Private Monroe made a come hither gesture to his chicken.

"Sir, this chicken right here? Came from her farm."

Muk stood up and ambled over to greet the bird.

The mouse and chicken circled.

"Tell me about her?"

"Her the chicken or her, the druid?"

Muk stopped circling. The beast really was majestic, despite probably running all day.

"Well both but, you made that entire journey in what, a day and a half?"

Muk resumed circling.

Behind him a large flame spewed smoke up and over the supply train. Thankfully they were a distance from the front lines.

The trip took the coalition three days of forced marching. Muk had sent supply carts back every day since the fighting broke out. They usually returned five to seven days after he sent them. One small problem with being so far from resupply was the lengths he had to take.

Food planted and grown inside the walls had been stockpiled at a strategic reserve. His carts would arrive and then they would unload empty containers, load full barrels, and then return.

“It was a day and a half.”

“How much can the chicken carry?” Muk asked, pausing again.

“Sir?”

“A fully loaded chicken. How much weight? Two riders? How many rabbits? Foxes? Mice?”

Private Monro glanced at the bird. Both narrowed their eyes as they turned to the quartermaster.

“If you want the same speed, sir… two mice or two rabbits. They are wary of carrying rabbits, or at least this one is. It could carry more and go slower, and I quote ‘If I be fed more’.”

Muk admired the chicken. He’d understood the bond between Freya and her beasts. This one was trying to get more food? That would be fine. He had to feel his cockroaches.

“Tell her, she about to be fed more. a lot more.”

Behind them a glass jar clattered on the ground and broke. Muks brow furrowed. None of his cooking implements nor any of his ingredients were made of glass.

The world was very quiet all of a sudden and Muks ear rang.

“KIMCHI!?” He yelled to his junior officer. He could barely hear himself, straining his voice as he screamed.

The pandemonium of the small explosion that followed caused three mice to string bows, five to draw swords and Muk himself ran to save the Coronet from the possible calamity of the grease fire or explosion he was experiencing.

His pulse quickened as he did a quick assessment of his surroundings. He had to focus on his breathing, embracing the cold harsh reality of his situation.

There were no cats. He motioned to the closest two mice to form up on himself and they approached the smoky mass which had been the mobile kitchen cart. The mice fanned out at his command and it wasn’t until another mouse bumped into him that he realized that Private Monroe was behind him.

He too had a weapon drawn, his a spear that Muk had not seen on the mouse prior.

For a second, Muk was certain that the Private had caused the distraction. He eyed the brown mouse warily.

There had been unsettling reports about things that.. but the mouse had the official seal with him. He couldn’t start questioning if he was sane or not in the middle of a possible attack.

“What is happening here?” He muttered to himself.

“I think Sir,” Monroe yelled, shocking him by hearing and responding, “ that I am about to see you chew out an Officer in a fantastic manner.”

“By the Raven,I hope so.”

They circle the kitchen.

Kimchi was a short distance away holding onto his eyes, bent over.

When the dust settled, Kimchi had a neat scar across his nose from something he had with the hot oil. Muk insisted that he see one of the nurses and sent him on his way, hopefully to return safely and in good spirits.

He certainly had not meant for his adjutant to become scarred while cooking. Heck he just wanted to chill out most of the time, as far as Muk could gather.

But this was war and he was not going to bring along dead weight. If Kimchi wasn't able to do his part either through malicious compliance or some other reason… Muk sat his Coronet up.

"Can you hear me?"

"Sir! I am so sorry sir! Are we under attack?"

Muk looked around. His archers scanned the perimeter, his rabbits were looping around his staging area but all was quiet.

"Can you stand?"

The mouse nodded back to him, the grasped paws and he went up easily.

"Then go check the perimeter."

"Aye sir."

Kimchi saluted.