A note from the author: As always, any translations that aren't tackled in the text are in the note at the end of the chapter.
Thomas' tale
It took Sally nearly three weeks to feel comfortable enough with both Thomas and her German to risk asking the young Hessian to recount the story Dr Hall had mentioned. As a proper Georgian lady she took interest from men-folk, particularly men-folk of the soldierly kind, with one pinch of discretion and two of suspicion, and despite the fact that Robin had assured her that the lad was simply curious and looking for more delicate company than the men of his division, she was cautious.
Gladly however, the gangly youth's interest was not restricted to her alone. Rose too found herself the recipient of curious glances, smiles and the occasional wave when her path and his would cross, though she at first was not treated to a verbal greeting. His silence frankly baffled her, but to Sally it was unsurprising. After their initial meeting, Thomas would have been wary of earning Dr Hall's wrath for distracting she and Rose while they worked, and since they often stuck together in their off duty hours she reasoned that the bashful young man likely felt uneasy about coming up and attempting to make conversation with them.
It's much easier on the pride, after all, to fumble through a conversation with one person than it is to try and engage two.
Sensing though that a fine prank might be done on Rose in these particular circumstances, Sally kept her thoughts on Thomas' silence to herself. She even started teasing her a little, saying that he had taken a fancy to her and was shy of speaking with her because of it. This well-meant prodding and conjecture went on for days before Rose, much to her friend's amusement, decided to tackle their skittish seeming-admirer directly. When next she saw him loitering on the triage's balcony, she marched right out there to give him a proper dressing down. Unfortunately however, the detail that Sally's dutiful silence had kept from her made itself apparent as soon as her tirade ended with a huffed, "So what do you have to say for yourself?!"
Poor Thomas, lost by the quickly spoken avalanche of English and feeling more than a little embarrassed, replied as politely as possible. "Ich spreche nur ein bisschen Englisch, Schwester" he said, watching the indignation in her face become first confusion, then roaring embarrassment.
What she did in response endeared her to him instantly.
She switched to German first, feigning calm and saying, "Einen Augenblick bitte" with practised clarity. This phrase, 'one moment please', was one of those that she and Sally had learned to save them from tight spots such as this, and it came easily to her despite her absolute mortification.
Thomas, being a gentleman and finding the situation increasingly hilarious, answered with a slightly jerky nod and watched as Rose then turned, opened the door between the balcony and the blessedly sparsely populated ward and screamed, "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME THAT HE'S HESSIAN?!" at the top of her lungs.
Three outcomes resulted from this course of action.
Firstly, irrespective of the fact that half of what she yelled escaped his comprehension, Thomas barely made it from balcony to street upright he was laughing so hard and Sally, within the ward, fared no better. She'd just about managed to reply, "His uniform, you silly thing!" before she too was lost to gales of mirth.
Secondly, royally piqued by her teasing, Rose didn't speak to her fellow nurse for three and one-half days.
And thirdly, the Oberschwester docked both women two days allowance; Rose for the ruckus she caused with her hollering, and Sally for earning and being the recipient of said hollering.
Fair was fair after all. There was no playing favourites here.
It was the eve of the fourth day of frigid silence when Sally, after two hours of honest contrition and apologies for being such a troublesome cur, managed to coax Rose out onto the balcony again with promises of tea laced with honey and a thimble's worth of liquor from the Quartermaster's store. She didn't tell the still indignant woman that it was Thomas' alcohol ration that she had used, with his permission of course, to lace the brew. Nor did she tell her that he would be out on the balcony waiting for them when they arrived. In the end though, after a little cold glaring and a mug of tea each, the ice was finally broken. That formative meeting became the starter for an every-other-day habit that persisted to the present, and now, on a warm late August evening with the three of them as thick as thieves, they and Dr Hall were gathered on the balcony to hear Thomas' rendition of what he called, 'Die Geschichte des Reiters'.
The story of the Horseman.
"Thank you again for coming out, Doctor" Rose smiled as she settled beside Sally, jostling her gently with her elbow and being jostled back before they took up their cups of tea and stirred a small glob of honey from the pot sitting by Robin's side into each with slender teaspoons. They had invited the man along both to give him a break from his seemingly endless duties on the ward, and to use him as a resource if their Hessian friend's verbiage passed them by as he recounted his tale. The Doctor knew this, and he didn't mind in the slightest.
"Thank you for the invitation" he replied, settling down with his back against the balcony's fence and sipping from his own cup - a dash of gin cut with water - while Thomas wrestled down one of the clean sheets from the drying poles that hung on the balcony's back side and tied it, with due ceremony, cloak-like about his neck. He knew the story he was sitting in on well, having sat through it at least twice since Thomas had distilled it from the gossip of his comrades, but looked forward to the telling regardless. The young lad had a flare for the dramatic that he found quite amusing in small doses.
As if to prove this, Thomas puffed out his chest and clapped his hands twice, facing his audience to call out, "Damen und Herren!" He preened with pride at how the nurses smiled and whispered to each other at the sight of him, and gave Doctor Hall a pointed, expectant look. This caught Robin mid-sip and he swallowed quickly, his role as the evening's designated translator seemingly more encompassing than first he'd thought.
"Es tut mir leid Thomas" he apologised, glancing at Sally and Rose and saying, as his Hessian counterpart had moments before, "Ladies and gentlemen."
Thomas beamed. "Die Geschichte des Reiters ist blutig" he said, his expression becoming serious as he spoke. "Blutigen und gewalttätigen." A glance at Robin, who gladly obliged.
"The story of the Horseman is bloody. Bloody and violent."
The nurses huddled closer together, both more excited than fearful despite the gory preface. Sally even dared a little request of their story-teller. "Thomas? Englisch bitte? Tell little bits in English, maybe?" She mimed their inch between her thumb and forefinger as she spoke, and although he looked a hint daunted at first, Thomas gave a little nod.
"Ein bisschen" he agreed, copying the mimed inch and adding, "Später" to buy himself some time to gather the English he had to share with them. He wasn't terrible by any means, having practised with the staff, soldiers and occasional visitors from the farm a quarter mile along the road. He was simply wary, even now, of showing himself up in front of his friends. Nodding came from the nurses at his words, small ones like those - like 'a bit' and 'later' - coming easily to them now, and he favoured them and Robin with another smile as he continued.
"Der Reiter kommt aus Hesse-Kassel"
"The Horseman comes from Hesse-Kassel" Robin said, adding, "which is one of the larger Landgraviates – territories held by a Landgrave – that was created when the Landgraviate of Hesse was split up many, many years ago" to help his very English charges keep up. When they nodded their understanding, Thomas resumed his story as Robin did his dutiful translation.
"Er wurde hier gesandt um den Aufruhr zu unterdrücken."
"He was sent here to suppress the rebellion."
"Zu kämpfen.."
"To fight.."
"Zu töten.."
"To kill.."
Thomas tilted his head slightly, nodding towards Sally and Rose. "Für dein König."
Robin pursed his lips to keep from smiling at the show he was putting on. "For your king."
The nurses braved a glance at each other, then looked back towards Thomas with cautious curiosity. "He's an ally then?" Rose asked, the doctor translating the question at Thomas' slightly confused glance.
"Ist er ein Verbündeter?"
The young soldier drew in a breath, seemingly contemplating the question. "Ally.." he began, piecing together what he wanted to say carefully. "Ally is...friend. Der Reiter...he is...not that. Not friend. He is...ahh..." A glance for Robin. "Söldner?"
"Mercenary" the doctor supplied, pleased to hear him exercising his English.
"Mercenary" Thomas repeated, testing the word. Pleased with it, he gave a nod. "Mercenary. Ally..." He shook his head, waving the idea away. "Means nothing."
"So he'd kill us?" Sally brooked guardedly.
Another quick look from Thomas to Robin. The latter sipped from his cup before translating, "Würde er uns töten?" and the former, hearing this, smirked fiendishly.
"Wenn Sie waren in seinem Weg, ja" he said.
"If you were in his way, yes."
Puffing up again as the nurses winced, Thomas spread his arms wide and moved on with his tale; his use of English becoming a hint more bold as he went on. "Der Reiter go over ze landt. Follows ze soldiers wie ein Hund auf einem Geruch."
"Like a dog on a scent" Robin put in quietly.
"Follows to battle, und ven it come he lead his horse in vollem Galopp-"
"...At full gallop..."
"-und nimmt die Köpfe seiner Feinde!"
"And takes the heads of his enemies."
Again Sally and Rose chanced a glance at each other. This time though, trepidation reigned. They huddled closer still as Thomas waded on gleefully, and as he began to describe his protagonist they translated his words before Robin did to distract themselves from the unease unfurling in their bellies.
"Er ist groß " Thomas said, puffing up yet again and trying to make himself look larger than he was with his sheet-cloak.
"He is...big?" Rose guessed.
"Tall" Sally put in thoughtfully, Robin smiling at their effort. "Or both maybe...broad and tall."
"That makes sense" her auburn-haired compatriot replied, waving Thomas on.
"Mächtig" he said, tapping his biceps to help them along.
"...Mighty?" Sally tried. "That sounded like mighty to me."
Rose snuffled. "In English you mean."
"Well yes."
"I'll say...powerful?" She glanced at Robin. "Is that right, Doctor?"
He nodded indulgently. "Correct Rose. Powerful. Strong. Mighty would also work Sally, so your guess wasn't far off."
A toast from a teacup later, Sally turned her grin first upon Robin, then Thomas. "What else? He's tall and strong..."
"Gewalttätig."
"Violent" they chorused, recognising the word.
"Er trägt schwarze Rüstung."
"He wears black armour" the doctor supplied at Rose's slightly fuddled glance.
"Seine Klinge ist so heiß wie Höllenfeuer."
And again he assisted. "His blade is as hot as Hellfire."
"Und sein Pferd ist riesig und schwarz wie die Nacht!"
Rose perked up now. "I got horse there" she put in, looking to the doctor for affirmation. "Pferd is horse, isn't it?"
"That it is" he confirmed, glancing between his nurses with obvious amusement. "Can you piece the rest together?"
"Schwarz is...black...I think." Sally volunteered after a moment's thought. "So...a black horse?"
"A 'riesig' he said..." Rose added. "Riesig...huge? A huge black horse?"
"That's right" Robin smiled. "His horse is huge, and as black as night."
Listening as they dissected his words, Thomas beamed and shared the next detail; his second favourite, all told. "Seine Zähne sind wie Messer."
"His..." Sally began, tripping over a word. His...Rose" she glanced to her friend, "Zähne?"
Rose in turn glanced at Robin. "That's teeth, isn't it?"
He tilted his head a hint to the right in acknowledgement. "Correct again."
Sally's brow furrowed in thought. "So his teeth are-" She hushed when Rose patted her arm sharply, the solution coming to her in a rush.
"Messer is the word for knife!" she enthused, turning compelled though confused eyes on Thomas. "His teeth are like knives. I've got that right, haven't I? Bin ich richtig?"
"Ja!" Thomas said, tapping his front teeth for emphasis. "Like knives."
"Why are they like that?" Sally asked, horror in her voice. "Did he file them? Did they break?"
"Made so himself" Thomas proclaimed, pleased that he was able to follow those questions with relative ease. "Did it for fear...to make enemies fear him...make them know him. He...ah...ein symbol?" He glanced quickly at Robin, but found the concern he had about his words allayed quickly.
"Das Wort ist dasselbe auf Englisch" the doctor told him.
The word is the same in English.
Thomas preened, returning his attention to his story. "Ein symbol for fear. Zey see him coming to battle-" He chuffed out a laugh and swept his cloak-sheet back as he pointed out along the cobbled path beyond the balcony. "Zey run! Er ist der Teufel zu seinen Feinden."
Rose frowned faintly, caught on a word. "Teufel?" she repeated, directing her question to Thomas now, not Robin. "What is Teufel?"
The young Hessian thought for a moment, trying the word, "Plague?" before that which he was searching for came to him. "Nein! Devil. Not plague. Das Wort ist 'Devil'. Ze Devil to his enemies." His courage soaring at having puzzled things out, he barrelled on. "Bloot everyvere he goes, zey speak. Again ant again...bloot. Even ze men of Gott fear him...Speak he bringt ze Satan vit him. Bevare, zey speak. Zey speak, 'Tod auf dem Pferderücken'...dead...no, no, death on horseback. Death on horseback. Omen of death for them! And best! Und am besten von allen! Er kennt diesen Ort!"
"He knows this place" Robin supplied in much calmer tones than Thomas.
"Er ist hier gewesen!"
"He's been here."
Sally and Rose shared another look, this one filled equally with shock, trepidation and doubt. "That..." Sally brooked, looking between the ebullient Thomas and Doctor Hall's much more sedate, relaxed figure. He was having another little sip from his cup as she spoke. "I do hope you aren't serious."
"Well..." Robin mused, regarding the three as Thomas, his tale complete, crouched on his haunches beside an unease-paled Rose - his cloak-sheet billowing with the movement. Holding the young man's hopeful gaze a moment he said, "We are the largest camp in the vicinity, so if he was travelling in these parts he likely would have at least passed through at some point."
"So..." Rose brooked, uncertain, "he's...an actual person, this Hessian Reiter?
The doctor was thoughtful. "Honestly, I couldn't say. Rumours circulate easily amid bored soldiers, but I have to say that Thomas' story is based on one of the more persistent ones. You can't go three days in these parts without hearing about The Horseman if you're really listening out for mentions of him. He's something of a macabre folk hero to the Hessians here. Some, like Thomas here, think he's flesh and blood, while others think the deeds attributed to him have been done by many people and just...stuck onto a conveniently frightening mantle for the war. One thing is certain though. The stories of those deeds keep coming. I've heard more than one Hessian captain returning from an incursion with word of Der Reiter's presence. Most though speak only of the feel of him. Of some oppressive thing. Their favourite description at present is, Der Geschmack von Blut auf der Luft auf eine kalte Nacht."
Thomas perked up in recognition, beaming an excited, "Ja mein herr!" as he gently, kind-naturedly, wormed Rose's cup from her fingers and pilfered a sip.
Too caught up with listening to Robin to much care about the theft, Rose asked, "What's that?", apprehension making the question softer than she'd intended it to be. At the doctor's reply, "The taste of blood on the air on a cold night" she felt herself pale a hint more than she had already.
"And this fellow..." Sally brooked then, leaning her shoulder to Rose's companionably as she sensed her discomfort. "He's said to have been here?"
"Hearsay again" Doctor Hall replied. "As I said, if he is a real person who has the role the men here have cast him in - the great Hessian scourge of the enemy - it would be remiss of him not to at least know of this place. There are those here who'd put gold to having either seen him pasturing his horse in the fields, stealing a drink from one of the troughs on his way through or simply lurking quietly in the shadows, watchful but always silent and unreachable. They speak of him as if he's a ghost at times - seeing him from the corner of the eye only to turn and find him gone - and that, amongst other things, makes me wonder whether he is anything more than tales."
Rose spoke up next, equal parts off-put by the idea of shadowy ghost men lurking in the night and wanting of information that would help dispel her fears. "Oh?"
"As news of his exploits, or supposed exploits, gets back here" Robin explained, his words careful, considered, and geared towards reassuring his charges as best he could, "the sightings redouble. It's as if he's conjured from the air when the men want to see him; his presence imagined by the curious, the nervous, and the war-hungry." He paused a moment, shaking his head. "Were he really in the area and actively visiting this place as often as they suggest though, he wouldn't only be glimpsed in the shadows from an eye's corner. He'd be seen strolling along the road going about his day like everyone else. This isn't a place where he'd have to hide away. This is friendly territory."
Those facts, it turned out, were of small comfort to Sally and Rose. Neither woman for the rest of the evening could stop herself from giving every shadowed area a second look, particularly after they and Thomas parted company and went about their respective eves separated from their cosy little group. Luckily for them though, there was no presence about that tasted like blood on a cold night; no figures in the shadows or eyes looking back when they stared into those shadows to make sure they were indeed alone.
Stillness reigned, and it soothed them.
Far beyond the triage's walls however...far beyond Sally and Rose and the false veil of safety the establishment and its residents portrayed on the edge of a war zone...there was movement. A regal equine head, black as the gathering night, rose from and was silhouetted against the half-mile of rolling wheat fields by the setting sun.
Translations:
"Ich spreche nur ein bisschen Englisch, Schwester" I only speak a little English, Sister.
"Bin ich richtig?" Am I right?
"Und am besten von allen!" And best of all!