"Let her cry. It's better to let it out," Lance said. "Barristan, Reynauld, you two rest here for a bit." He then turned to his highwayman. "Dismas, with me." He gave the two knights a meaningful look. To "rest" was, in fact, to watch her.
Lance knew exactly what this world was like. He could not let a stranger out of his sight. Who knew if she was truly a victim of the brigands? What if she was some kind of monster, waiting to strike? This world had supernatural forces. He had to be cautious in all things. He could not afford to lose.
Back outside, he pointed to the brigand with the broken limbs. "Get the information we need from him. Find out everything you can about this band and their relationship with the surrounding gangs. It will be useful for you. And find out what's been happening in the area lately."
Dismas did not say a word, simply dragging the man to one side. The brigand, likely realizing he was doomed, was completely uncooperative, only screaming and wailing in agony, refusing to speak.
"Bring him out," Lance said. He picked up a severed arm from the ground and walked to the edge of the camp. Ignoring the brigand, he casually tossed the arm out into the darkness. He then turned back to the man Dismas was dragging. "Watch."
His actions were so strange that the brigand did not understand. But soon, a rustling came from the woods outside the camp, and pairs of glowing eyes appeared in the darkness.
"Wolves..."
The brigand, of course, recognized them. He began to struggle instinctively, but Lance planted a foot on him. "Watch carefully," he commanded.
The alpha wolf stepped out of the darkness. Unlike its earlier caution, this time it went straight for the severed arm, snatched it in its jaws, and retreated back into the shadows. Though they could not see, they could all hear the sound of cracking bone and the low, greedy snarls that followed.
"Hmph. Did you hear that?" Lance knelt down, his face close to the brigand's, a sinister, strange smile on his lips. "If you cooperate, I'll give you a quick end. But if you don't, you'll be fed to the wolves. My little friends have been hungry for several days. Do you think they'll start with your hands, or your feet?"
"You're not human!" the brigand shrieked, his face a mask of terror.
"Tch," Lance scoffed. "Compared to you lot, my kindness is indeed inhuman."
One arm was clearly not enough for so many wolves. Soon, the alpha returned. Perhaps maddened by the scent of blood, the other wolves drew closer as well, baring their sharp teeth, growling, inching forward, looking as if they would leap upon their prey at any second.
Lance held his torch high. The flickering light made the wolf pack take a step back, and they let out low whimpers, like a warning to a rival over a kill, trying to drive him away.
"Look," Lance whispered. "I will let them take you, bite by bite, and you will watch as you are torn apart by the pack."
The brigand looked at the approaching wolves. In the firelight, he could even see the blood still glistening on their muzzles.
"I'll talk! I'll talk! Get me back inside!" The brigand completely broke down, his voice a pleading, sobbing wreck.
Only then did Lance remove his foot. The rest he could leave to Dismas. He had to clean up the scene. Those... things... were not pleasant, but for the sake of the [Boon], he had to force down his disgust and sacrifice them. He also collected their equipment and money.
A dozen men, and not a single firearm among them. All their weapons were for melee, crudely made things that were little more than scrap iron, big and heavy. He did find a good deal of money, but it was mostly copper. Dealing with it all was a hassle, to say nothing of the woman.
"My lord, I have news."
Dismas returned and reported an interesting piece of information. According to the brigand, not long ago, someone from the Cannon Company had come to contact them. It seemed they were trying to organize another invasion of the Hamlet, but the plan had fizzled out for unknown reasons. He had also revealed that during the original sack of the town, the Cannon Company and the Wolf Pack had clashed. In the end, the Wolf Pack had beaten up the men from the Cannon Company and stolen their loot. The relationship between the two factions had been tense ever since. In their recent attempt to rally the gangs, the Cannon Company had made no effort to include the Wolf Pack.
"Just as I thought," Lance said with a small smile. "These brigands are still here because they want to raid the Hamlet a second time, perhaps even occupy it. But both the Wolf Pack and the Cannon Company want to preserve their own strength, which is why they've been delayed."
Lance quickly processed the new information and laid out the next steps for Dismas.
"We have our pretext. The Wolf Pack is unhappy with the Cannon Company's growing strength, so they plan to wipe them out and take the Hamlet for themselves. That's why they've started attacking the smaller gangs. You will be the sole survivor of their latest attack tonight."
"My lord," Dismas said, "if we do this, won't it just drive all the other brigands into the arms of the Cannon Company? And if the Wolf Pack doesn't have the strength we think they do and are wiped out by a few cannon shots, then we will be the ones in trouble."
Lance understood his concern. If the Wolf Pack failed to significantly weaken the Cannon Company and create a mutually destructive situation, they would then be facing a unified brigand force of over a hundred men, with artillery. The image was too beautiful to contemplate.
"I am not so afraid of that," Lance said. "At the very least, it would expend some of their ammunition. I am more afraid of another possibility: that the Wolf Pack sees the situation is not in their favor and simply flees. Then the Cannon Company will surely turn their full attention to the Hamlet. Or, worse, the Wolf Pack sees through our plan and joins their alliance. Then we will have to face the full strength of all the brigand forces combined."
As he spoke of these other possibilities, they seemed more and more likely. The Wolf Pack were not fools. If they could not win, would they not run? It was how they had ended up here in the first place.
"We must find a way to ensure the two of them fight to the death..."
Lance fell into a deep thought. Dismas waited at his side.
"Awoooo!"
Suddenly, a wolf howled outside, startling Lance from his thoughts. An idea had struck him. The consternation on his face faded, replaced by a smile. He nodded to himself, muttering, "That's it... that's it... what's missing is the 'meat'."
Dismas looked at his lord, confused. What did this have to do with wolves?
"In the end, their current grudge is not enough to guarantee an all-out war," Lance explained. "But if the prize is great enough, it will be."
"When you go to the leader of the Cannon Company, you will tell him this: you personally witnessed the men of the Wolf Pack in possession of a transcendent item. You will then hint that this very item is the reason they were hunted by the nobleman in the first place. If he can get his hands on it, he can either sell it, or he can use it to bargain with that same nobleman for a pardon and a bright future. I do not believe they wish to remain brigands forever. And he will certainly not be willing to share such a prize with the other brigands. He will abandon any thought of an alliance and choose to attack the Wolf Pack alone."
What was a transcendent item? A piece of equipment with miraculous power. For bottom-tier sellswords like them, it was something that existed only in legends, and yet was real. Every time they were spoken of in taverns, it was of them being sold for astronomical prices, snatched up by the great and powerful.