The first days had passed without any trouble worth noting rearing its head. We made it through the gap without problems. We didn't even encounter any enemy scouts which surprised me a little at first, at least until I learned that Tortho had sent ahead his most capable crews with the express purpose of dealing with those. Afterwards I was very much aware of the graves we passed every once in a while as we proceeded northwards, leaving the gap behind us.

Burying the dead enemies was not only decent, it was essential as well, as vultures and other scavengers could give away that something was amiss otherwise. They would figure out that something was up when their scouts stopped reporting but by then it probably would be too late for them. Without actual reports from the scouts they would have trouble pinpointing our exact location as well.

The longer it took them to find us the better. The later they were to react the more rushed and prone to error the reaction would be. Keeping our enemies in the dark was essential this time around. More so than ever before, as we weren't hugging the hills or sneaking through the woods this time. No, this time we had to stick to the roads. With all the additional wagons for siege equipment and the likes we had no other option.

Things became a little more complicated soon after. As we marched deeper into the territory nominally under the control of the king of Gothol'uin we encountered more signs of civilization, or what passed for it around here. There were more farmsteads within sight of the road and occasionally we even came across a roadside inn. Most of the people there were happy enough if we just left them alone. It seemed as if an army marching by without raiding their barn or trampling the corn on the fields was already a good thing in their books.

It was sad in a way. I was more worried about those few who would, for some reason or another, feel the need to pass on warning about our presence. There probably weren't a lot of these misguided patriots but I had no doubt that we couldn't stop all of them without taking rather drastic measures. And I was not comfortable with doing anything drastic. Thus I decided to let them spy and pass messages. Of course that didn't mean that we didn't keep our eyes on them.

I was actually hoping for a rushed response. If a local noble gathered his remaining knights and footmen to confront us now we could take them out before they could form a sufficiently strong army that might actually pose a threat to us after all. Tortho's scouts in turn would keep their eyes open to make sure they would not catch us by surprise.

This was, so far, well in hand. What caught my attention though were the ornaments set up around one of the roadside inns as we made camp nearby. Hollowed out pumpkins, carved with fearsome visages and candles inside them to provide en eerie glow. The inn was not the only house where those had been set up around every door. I could see a similar glow from the farmhouses that were within sight. It had to be some kind of tradition, although I had no idea what it was about.

I was standing near the front entrance of one of the farmhouses together with Arngard, looking at the carved and illuminated pumpkins there while everyone else was busy setting up camp, including a moat and earthen ramparts crowned by a wooden palisade, not far away. “What is the point of these?” I pointed at a pumpkin with a particularly fearsome visage. “Some of them are quite artistic, but that can't be all there is to them, right?”

The mercenary shrugged. “I'm not sure. We never had a tradition like that. I never heard any stories about something involving carved pumpkins from my parents or grandparents either.” He moved a little closer to look at the thing from different angles. “Well, at least they removed the pulp and the seeds. Would be a waste to let those rot unused.” He looked over at me and made a grimace, mimicking the carved fruit. “Maybe its about scaring away bad spirits? It is that time of the year after all, when days get shorter and the morning mist lingers longer.”

I sighed. For a moment I regretted leaving Leumina behind to protect our supply route. She probably would have known what this was about. That moment of regret passed as swiftly as it had reared its head though, as I spied someone watching us through the cracks in the wooden shutters of one of the farmhouse's windows.

Well, without a local adviser at hand I would just have to get my answers elsewhere. A few quick steps carried me over to the shuttered window.

“Eep! She is coming over! Quick, hide!”

The sound from behind the shutters was muffled but I was still pretty certain that I was dealing with a child or maybe several of them, young ones at that. I cleared my throat, to catch their attention. “If you could spare me a moment. I'd like to ask some questions. Please?” I kept my tone friendly and made sure not to speak too loud either. You couldn't approach children like a company of hardened veterans after all.

There were some hushed whispers I couldn't quite make out but finally someone approached the window again to peek out through the crack in the shutters. “And what is in it for us if we answer your questions?”

I blinked in surprise. That was not exactly the reply I had expected. “Does there have to be something in it for you?”

For a moment there was silence, except for Arngard who was trying hard to hold his laughter in a few steps away. Finally the little boy spoke up again though. “Of course! Everyone knows that if you make a deal with the devil that you should at least get something that makes it worth your while.”

Now that in turn left me speechless for a moment. Was that how they were thinking about us? Was this what they taught their children? Well, a honest deal above the table was better than a dagger in your back any day.

I sighed. What could I offer in exchange for information anyway? I patted the sheaths and pouches on my belt as I thought about it. One of my knives? That would be a pretty good deal for the little one but somehow I got the impression that giving a little child a very sharp knife would not be a good idea.

Finally my hand came to rest on something else. I pulled the pouch off my belt and held it up. “How about I give you this pouch of honey candies if you tell me everything about these carved pumpkins? Deal?”

These had been a recent addition to everyone's kit. They had been suggested by the pair of troll shaman's who had joined the Wall Breakers. Supposedly they were medicine and would help make sure no nasty cough would spread among the ranks, now that the weather was getting a little more chilly. I had no clue if they were right about that but I would not dispute their wisdom either. They were pretty tasty anyway.

Again there were a lot of hushed whispers before the boy spoke up again “Deal!” The shutters were opened just wide enough for a little hand to reach outside and grab the small bag.

I didn't put up any resistance and let the boy grab the sweet treats. I felt the need to remind him about the deal though. I took the chance to add a little good natured teasing as well. “And now, if you would please tell me the story about the carved pumpkins. And don't try to cheat me or I'll come in and spank you.”

“Eep!” That shriek had come from more than one little mouth but the boy, the oldest of the bunch as far as I could tell, quickly mustered his courage. “We are good! I'll tell you!”

I nodded earnestly and made myself a little more comfortable in front of the window. “I'm listening.”

The boy cleared his throat and as he started talking I was pretty certain that he already had one of the candies in his mouth. “This time of the year, you know, the pale king and his wild hunt are on the prowl. Far and wide his hounds snoop for tasty prey, you know, children who don't listen to their parents and unwary fools. We carve the pumpkins, light the candles and, you know, lock our doors. We … uh … might hide under mom's bed later as well. Just to be, you know, safe.”

I blinked first once, then twice, as I went over his little story in my mind. I looked over at Arngard as well. He had stopped laughing and was grim faced now. I closed my eyes and unbuckled my belt to pull one of the hunting knives off it, sheath and all. I put it on the windowsill. “Take it, just, you know, to be safe. Be careful though, it is very sharp.” I fastened my belt again as I rose to return to Arngard's side. I stopped once more though to address the children behind the shutters. “And don't forget to lock the window again. Make sure they are all closed tight.”

We walked in silence for a little while, heading for the camp, before the human mercenary spoke up again. “It might sound like a harmless bit of folklore at first … but … that pale king and his wild hunt sound entirely too much like a headhunter hunting party. I wouldn't put it past those bastards to cull the herd and fill their larders before winter. Wouldn't put it past them either to target farms that can't afford to make these pumkin lanetrns first.”

I nodded grimly. “I'm sure Tortho and his scouts are keeping their eyes open but pass the order to the camp guards to be more wary than usual. Do it quietly. Double the guard as well. Groups of three or more only.”