Chapter Text
Jan Zizka is many things. A strategist, a Captain, a hero, a villain— it doesn’t matter in the end what they call him. Everything he does, it all comes down to business. Hans and Henry aren’t the first men he’s betrayed in his career. Spying on his own has become a habit. A necessary evil, if you will. Though, that pair of blue blooded greenhorns are far different from his usual fodder.
It’s true, he respects the pair. It’s been weeks since the siege ended, and he’d offered Henry a position as his right hand man. Henry behaved completely within the realms of his character. The only downside to loyalty like that is predictability. Still, it’s a risk Zizka would gladly gamble on, and he’s not much of a betting man anymore.
Loyalty is a leash Zizka knows to be firm. Devotion, however, is a different beast entirely. Whatever the fuck is going on between Sir Hans Capon of Pirkstein and Henry of Skalitz involves both in legions.
No, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d violated his soldier’s boundaries for the cause. It wouldn’t be the last. Katherine seemed utterly unbothered by the request. Find me something they won’t miss, and she did so without hesitation, as always. The woman enjoys a challenge, especially when it involves Henry.
The Captain dives in head first, flipping through the pile of scraps. It is infinitely clear whose handwriting is who’s.
Henry, if you and Mutt keep on trudging mud and shit in here every night, I’ll castrate you both. I am deadly fucking serious. Enough is enough. I can’t live like this anymore.
You’re the one who wanted the bed closest to the door. I’ll pay the maid extra. God knows this room could use a good scrub.
Zizka shares a wall with the pair. What the room really needs is a good burn.
Henry, I can’t seem to track you down today. Find me.
Track better.
Typical high maintenance Capon and smart arse Henry. Nothing interesting.
I know you let Mutt in last night.
Adapt. Me and Mutt are a package deal. Unless you’d rather we bunk elsewhere?
Jesus Christ. Zizka pushes on in hopes of finding something more incriminating.
Good morning, Hans. I was too afraid to tell you this face to face… we’ve got fleas. Farewell.
That was a hellish day. Hans made their problem everyone else’s and Henry vanished without a trace.
Bastard, quit avoiding me.
Bad timing, is all. Meet me at the baths.
Are you sure that’s wise?
See you there.
Zizka chuckles. Now this is more like what he had in mind. He knows Henry won’t admit to anything without hard evidence to present. Still, the pair has a few thoughts between them to rub together. They’re not stupid enough to put anything too incriminating on paper.
This is the book I mentioned last night. Helped stretch me out.
Well. That’s something quite fucking incriminating on paper. Written in Henry’s chicken scratch, no doubt. That piece of torn parchment goes in the evidence pile. The Captain scoffs heavily and rubs his temples before continuing on.
We need to do something about that condition of yours.
I know. But I’ve tried everything, save tying myself to the bed.
Then that’s what we’ll do. Would you rather wake up dead and drowned in a rain puddle?
Henry has something of a sleep walking problem. It’s common knowledge in their cloister. Everyone leaves the bloke be, in hopes he’ll find his way back home in the morning. Like a stray cat one's grown especially fond of.
The next few notes are completely mundane. Zizka flies through them.
The cook is a sadistic bastard. I can’t eat this slop any longer.
I could cook for you.
I'd rather eat Mutt's shit.
Did you eat my walnuts? I was saving them.
The ones at the bottom of your chest? What do you take me for, a fucking rat!?
Quit speaking to Mutt in the morning. You sound like a lunatic.
Have you checked your arse lately? Mutt's missing a stick.
I’m going to the Kuttenberg tailor. I will spend the night in the city. I need time away from your noble fuckery.
Keep your clothes contained to your side of the room, you animal.
Or what?
Why don’t you find out yourself?
Zizka huffs and considers why the hell he thought this was a good idea in the first place. He’d hoped for something insightful, not even more evidence that the two men drive each other up the wall. The whole fucking inn knows that much.
Just as he’s about to resurface, he hits gold, as is the way of the world.
How do you feel?
Poor Pebbles will be stuck in the stables for the foreseeable future.
That’s it. Zizka’s read enough of this to last a lifetime or three. He's collected the most conspicuous of the notes and tossed the rest into a cabinet. All he has to do now is plead a convincing case to Henry.
To show him that Hans isn’t the only man who will accept facts. To show him that the road to Rattay is only one of his options. And perhaps, to clear the fog from his vision. Henry has proven to be a competent pupil. Zizka would rather Henry learn the Love and War lesson in concept, and not in practice. Zizka knows what he has to do. How Henry will take it, is another matter.