Eric Flint: Grantville Gazette.Volume XVI

"We've heard others complain about thieves… are the men from Oberschwartzwald the ones who have committed these thefts?" Wilf asked.

"They've stolen anything that wasn't chained down or held in hand. Three sows, a horse, and two cows in the last month have wondered off toward the Devil's village. Frau Weltz' freshly-washed blankets and the Donner's two casks of sauerkraut walked off with the animals. Others have lost tools. My own good ax went from the chapel entrance."

The pastor's pained look reminded Rob of how precious the stolen items were to the villagers. It prompted him to ask, "You said something about Herr Groenwald's cousins? I take it you think they are the thieves?"

"Young man, for centuries my family and the Groenwald family have known each other and yet none have ever heard of these cousins nor their supposed ancestors. Devils in disguise they may well be, visited on Groenwald for his heresy. Keep good watch at night."

The Grantville quartet exchanged glances. Rob felt a twinge of conscience. His first feeling had been one of glee. If these strangers in Oberschwartzwald were their bandits, he and his friends might be on their way home in a day or two.

Yesterday's snowstorm had turned to sleet around dusk. Just past midnight the wind slackened, the temperature dropped, and the sleet turned to ice. As the sun rose over the hills the village took the appearance of a landscape carved from ice. Sunbeams danced from icicle to icicle, shimmering brightly.

The beauty of the scene was lost to the men huddled around the small fire. The room that had been stuffy and over-warm last night now was frigid. The walls and roof had kept them dry but the wind found every crack.

"What curse follows us that the very weather turns against us?" murmured Reichard as he delicately added a small branch to the fire. "As cold as it is, it's well Christian didn't come with us. "

"Yeah, two weeks riding in snow and sleet after recovering from pneumonia isn't too smart," Rob agreed. He missed the lanky man and his acerbic wit.

"Come, now, Reichard. It isn't that bad. At least it isn't sleeting anymore," Wilf teased. "And look there, our young friend Rob seems as comfortable as can be."

Rob, shivering on the other side of the fire took one hand out of his pocket long enough to give Wilf a single-digit salute. "Yeah, just like I'm at home in front of my own fireplace. All that's missing is the popcorn and beer." Despite his up-time parka, fur lined pants, and heavy boots Rob was cold-down to the bone cold. He wondered again how the others managed. Wilf was wearing an old faded-blue parka neatly patched at the elbows and too long in the sleeves. The parka had once belonged to one of Rob's older brothers. Under the parka Wilf wore a wool shirt, wool pants and a pair of western style boots. His hands sported a pair of rabbit skin gloves. To Rob's eyes the oddest part of the older man's ensemble was the plaid wool scarf tied around his head. Dieter was similarly attired, save his parka was newer, bright orange, and fit him better. Reichard, as big as he was, hadn't found an up-time parka that fit him. Instead the man wore a sheepskin jacket that left Rob idly wondering how many sheep had died to make it. All of the men wore Stetsons. Somehow the sight made Rob think of a Saturday Night Live take-off on Bonanza. Wilf would be cast as Papa Cartwright, Dieter as the smooth-talking Adam, and Reichard, of course, as the oversized Hoss. That left Rob himself as Little Joe. The thought tickled him and he found himself laughing.

"Ah, now you prove my point. You are just as comfortable here as at home." Wilf grinned back at him.

"More so, I think," Dieter chimed in. "Here he doesn't have to listen to all the women chattering."

"Aye, or get dragged off to see the tailor 'just one more time'. Frau O'Reilly is a level headed, practical woman, or so I thought." Dieter shook his head mournfully. "Now, with your wedding at hand, she has gone as mad as the rest."

"Come now, Dieter." Wilf chuckled. "I'd say that 'tis Liz and JoAnn who are wildest about the wedding. Frau O'Reilly's daughters, too. If anyone gives Frau O'Reilly trouble it is her girls. Fraulein Lannie, she stays calm."

"Well, yes…" Rob replied. "Grandpa Ev has been running interference for us. He's declared his house a 'wedding free zone.' Even JoAnn shuts up when he reminds her that it's not her wedding. The trouble starts when they get to my house and run into their cousins. .." He drifted off in memory, then heaved a sigh and grinned back at the other men. "Lannie and I have talked about eloping, except there's no Las Vegas to run to."

Rob tossed a burning branch back on the fire. The guys had it right; he'd come along because he couldn't deal with any more wedding plans, wedding talk, wedding decorations, or sly digs about the wedding night. A week after Christmas, Maggie O'Reilly moved into the housekeeper's quarters in Rob's house. She'd rented out her own house to Christian du Champ and his family. Rob had been in favor of the move as it meant that he got Mrs. O'Reilly's cooking for all his meals. However, he also got the three O'Reilly girls-and their enthusiasms over his upcoming wedding.

Over the last two years he'd had trouble getting used to being alone. Having the O'Reillys in the house helped and in less than month things would change again. He would officially be a part of a family. A large, noisy, boisterous, alive family.

"Yeah," Rob answered, keeping his eyes down so the others wouldn't see the hint of tears in his eyes. "Yeah, I came along to get away from all the wedding craziness. Besides, someone's got to keep you guys out of trouble." Ducking, Rob almost avoided Dieter's rolled up sleeping bag.

"We need to eat and get moving. Oberschwartzwald is just a couple of miles up the road. Even if there are no bandits it is the last village on our list," Reichard announced. He picked up the frying pan and offered it around. "From what the pastor said it sounds like our bandits might be in residence there."

"Aye, we'd better move or we'll freeze our asses off. Until last night Major Stieff's 'odd stories about bandits' from the villages out here appeared to be no more than noises in the night," Dieter commented while eagerly spearing a piece of meat from the pan.

"Well, the good major did say he didn't think there was much to them. Just that he wanted us to check them out. All that we've heard about in the other villages were a missing cow here, a couple of sacks of onions gone there, a horse that didn't come in from the pasture, and so on. But the pastor's concerns about Oberschwartzwald also make me think there is something more to the stories than random chance and the odd thief," came Wilf's calm reply. He, too, readily speared his share of meat from the pan.

"Don't forget the missing girl," Reichard said. "I don't think she just wandered off on her own to admire the snowdrifts. That scared boy two villages back said he saw four or five riders trying not to be noticed. These mysteriously appearing relatives could be deserters. The Good Lord knows there are enough of them wandering about. The tracks we saw the other day, they looked like five ridden horses and they were heading toward Oberschwartzwald." He extended the frying pan to Rob.

Rob flipped open his Buck knife and gingerly speared the smallest piece. Fried salt pork was one down-time food he didn't like.

"We'll check out the village, spend tonight under cover, and head home tomorrow. If we push and the weather holds we'll be back in Grantville by Wednesday." Reichard's share of the fried salt pork disappeared in two large bites and he continued, "We can report to Major Stieff and be done with our militia duty for another year." A broad grin split the big man's face.

The men exchanged puzzled looks. They were just coming into the village of Oberschwartzwald, past a pair of half-ruined barns. Ahead they could hear a man yelling.