“There exists much stigma against deserters, typically along the lines of people who betray their liege or employer once could very well do it again. People who say that often fail to account for the conditions that led to said betrayal in the first place. Incompetent commanders are amongst the most common causes for such actions, as not many people would willingly follow a fool into what they know would be their own deaths.” - Scipius Cornelius Barca, famed General from the Republic of Caroma, circa 62 FP.

While Estelle and Publius were campaigning in the south, Reinhardt found himself in a situation that he had both expected and yet not. Namely the fact that he suddenly had nearly half a battalion of Podovnian soldiers – or rather, deserters – showing up by the city and claiming that they were on the lookout for employment opportunities.

The sight of such deserters was far from uncommon after any war. There would always be some soldiers who deserted their army for one reason or another. Most often, such deserters were soon reduced to banditry in order to continue to survive, but at times more honorable ones would seek out employment elsewhere, even if it was with their erstwhile enemies.

Naturally there were not many career options for such army deserters, especially if they were of the conscripted type, which were typically just poor peasants given whatever equipment was at hand and some rudimentary training before being made to march and told to kill the enemy. When it came to the more professional types, however, there were more options at hand.

Most often, they were employed as guardsmen and the like, though that sort of career path rarely had much of a future, as the stigma of being a former deserter meant that they would rarely rise to high position. More daring and enterprising ones might instead start a mercenary unit or join an established one, and a few had found success that way.

This band of deserters, led by a former minor noble from a region that Podovniy conquered years ago, clearly sought to do just that.

For Reinhardt himself, it was not that troublesome a matter. He had foreseen such a possibility and discussed it with Estelle prior to her departure to the south. The council had given him permission to enlist such deserters if he deemed them suitable for his company, and they were included as part of people he was allowed to actively recruit.

Which was one reason he was meeting the leader of the deserters that day in order to discuss potential employment.

“So, how do you like to be called, former senior commander?” Reinhardt asked, noting the rank that the woman across from him previously held. To his knowledge a senior commander in the Podovnian army would be in command of a battalion, around three to five hundred people. The woman had brought a bit over a hundred people with her, likely what was left of her battalion, though Reinhardt was uncertain where they received those losses.

“You can just call me Astrid, Captain,” replied the woman. “I pretty much threw away that rank when I chose to take what’s left of my men and fled rather than let an idiot get us all killed. Heh. That fat bastard likely surrendered and probably got himself ransomed by now… Bloody noble shitbag.”

“Understandable choice,” replied Reinhardt. He could well sympathize with being forced to obey the commands of an incompetent. It was one reason he was so picky about contracts his company took, and looked for those that allowed independent command whenever possible. “Where were you and your people stationed during this mess? Mind you, chances are very good that my company likely killed a bunch of yours either way. It’s just that I prefer knowing who you likely ran into back then.”

“My troops were part of those left at Aldenstadt to surround the city and kept the people in there from running out to reinforce Levain, or that was what they said our mission was,” replied the woman with some vehemence. “Only took two weeks of anyone going out of the camp disappearing before our idiot of a commander broke down. He tried to pull off a ‘tactical’ retreat while a good half of our forces were made to play meatshield for him, though the folks from Aldenstadt choosing that time to storm out kinda put an end to that. I managed to get what’s left of my people out of that debacle, so here we are. Not sure if the rank bastard’s dead or alive and I honestly don’t care.”

“Oh, so you ran into Grün. Not a pleasant experience, that,” noted Reinhardt with a trace of pity in his voice. Grünhildr was merciless to her enemies and was fighting in the defense of her hometown, which likely meant that she pulled out all the stops and wouldn’t hesitate to rely on nastier methods. “For what it’s worth, if the ‘bastard’ you refer to happen to be some minor noble named Lenos or something like that, you’ll be happy to hear that he’s going to be working as a farmhand for the rest of his life, since apparently your Marquis didn’t like him enough to ransom him.”

“It was pretty amusing to see his face back there, really, which is why I remembered. Your Marquis ransomed the tribunes working under that guy but left him in particular to rot. Must not be a popular person, huh?” he added with a smirk. “I am assuming you and yours are part of the people he ‘volunteered’ to play rearguard while he bravely ran away?”

“Got it in one, Sir,” replied Astrid with a wistful sigh. “Can’t say I didn’t find the idea of him being made to shovel dung for the rest of his life amusing. Couldn’t happen to a better person,” she said with a relieved chuckle. “But yeah, at first I took off with the intention of regrouping with the main army, but they got their asses kicked as well, didn’t they? That changed a lot of plans, to say the least. Now I’m just looking for a way to keep my people fed without resorting to banditry, and honestly, Captain? Your company is looking like a really good option for that at the moment.”