After a month of rushed education I was finally sent out on my first mission as a member of the infiltration group. I was sent to Lille, to try and find out the fates of the two companies that had marched with Captain De Lisle's.
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I walked out from Castel Avril as the sun began rising, shrugging to reset the position of the packed kit-bag on my back. I had a long march ahead, at least a week just to get as far as Fifth Ridge, and I wanted to be as comfortable as you can be whilst wearing the full get-up and then some.
A couple of days from Castel Avril, walking along one of the smaller roads between the farms, I came across a band of Gypsies, one of several that infested the region. Most of them actually lived in the forests on the border with Belgium but they frequently emerged to trade with the farmsteads. Gypsies also ventured into Lille itself and a small plan came to mind as I approached them.
None of the women looked armed but I was suddenly facing a host of pistols, blades and even a shotgun when one of them spotted me.
"I walk in peace!"
The apparent leader of the band glanced over from where she was dealing with the farmer and sharply rebuked her followers. They all made their weapons disappear and I held my hands out as I walked closer.
"Bluecoat scum! We haven't done anything."
The Gypsy girl speaking was like a cat, hissing and trying to make herself look big, and I glanced around theatrically.
"You think I'd be on patrol on my own, what with Lille in the grip of those traitors of the Council?"
She sneered at me but backed down, resuming her languid sprawl, and I stepped round her, a hand drifting down towards the dagger sheathed at my belt. It wasn't wise to turn your back on a Gypsy, they'd stick a blade in it as soon as do anything else, and admittedly the Army had clashed with Gypsy gangs for years in the border regions.
Most of the band was gathered around a caravan, a pair of powerful-looking work horses harnessed to it, and it was an older Gypsy who stopped me, jumping down from the caravan and sauntering towards me.
"My sister speaks true. We haven't done anything wrong."
I shook my head, glancing along the road.
"And I was also being truthful. I only want to know if you are heading to Lille, or knew any band that was."
"You won't get far for looking like that."
The woman gestured at my overcoat and I smiled.
"Don't worry about me."
"As for Lille then we will be going there in the next few days."
At their leader's command the Gypsies began handing coins to the farmer one by one, exchanging them all for a couple of boxes of apples. With the fruit loaded onto the caravan the leader climbed up to take the reins of the work horses. Only then did she give me a second look.
"The bluecoat is coming with us?"
Before the Gypsy I'd been dealing with, currently moving to join her leader, could speak I stepped up to the side of the caravan.
"I am. I can pay my way if you'd prefer."
The woman's expression was inscrutable and I began feeling nervous under her gaze. After a minute though she smiled and gestured towards where the band was assembling.
"Give your coin to Lucia and then join my sisters. You can stay until you cause us trouble."
Lucia was the name of the woman I'd dealt with and she leant across, a hand extended, whilst I reached into a pouch at my waist to retrieve a few livre. The Gypsy took them and bit one, a smug grin on her face as I felt my heat in annoyance.
I walked with the Gypsies for nearly two weeks, reversing my overcoat to reveal its uncoloured side as we left the farmland behind. As the sun set on the eleventh day though, whilst they made camp, I gathered my things and kept walking. I wasn't deaf or blind, several of the Gypsies had been whispering and glancing at me when they thought I was distracted. It was likely that they planned to sell me out, get money from both sides, or worse but I wasn't prepared to give them the chance.
There was no cloud to block the light of the waxing moon and it was easy to see the road. There was also no wind, the evening was actually quite still, but that in the end made it easy to hear someone trying to sneak up on me. With a gentle sigh I loosened my dagger, spinning when the footsteps behind me sped up. It was the very first Gypsy girl who'd interacted with me, a shocked expression on her face, and we both looked down. As I'd spun I had drawn my dagger and the sharp blade had cut through the flesh of the Gypsy's stomach like a knife through butter.
I stepped back, dagger up in a guard position as the severely wounded girl dropped to her knees. She was clutching her belly and I could see her guts trying to escape.
"Why?"
She looked up, spite marring her normally pretty features.
"Sell you to the whitecoats. Make you lot pay."
I just shook my head and, convinced that the girl was alone, moved to stand behind her before slitting her throat.
"Poor creature. I hope you find peace."
I left her bleeding out on the side of the road, hurrying now in the direction of Lille. Growing up I'd heard stories of how Gypsies held onto grudges, much like the rural gangs of the Italian principalities, and wanted to be as far from them as possible before they came looking for their dead sister. After some time the exhaustion of the day's walk, and the hurried march, caught up to me and I slipped off the road, laying out a simple bedroll to sleep on.
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