“For every treaty or agreement to treat captive nobles and officers in a civilized manner, there existed at least a dozen loopholes through which they could easily be abused instead. Most military commanders worth their salt were familiar with these methods and usually had at least some knowledge or training to deal with them.

Most nobles on the other hand, could be obliviously unfamiliar with them, which results that could easily be imagined.” - Excerpt from “The Vagaries of Warfare” by Maxim Stavros Odenlos, Military Scholar from the Clangeddin Empire, circa 443 VA.

“I am the second son of Baron Hisaz of Levros, I demand-”

*Slap*

“Nobody here gives a dick to who your daddy is, you waste of sperm,” said Elfriede as she rubbed her hand clean, as if she had just touched something dirty. Her slap had been hard enough that it loosened one of the captive nobleman’s teeth, and made him squirm despite how he was tied to the bed by his arms and legs. “So shut that shithole the fuck up or we’ll get some needle and threads to shut it for you.”

The loud-mouthed noble was the lucky one amongst their captives, the one with the broken ankle, as his companions were too busy screaming in pain from their injuries to speak, much less complain. Medical staff - including a couple healers - from the Dvergarder contingent had already begun working on their injuries, but the noisy one had been left for last since his injuries were the least life-threatening.

Of the other four captives, one had his left leg broken in two places and his kneecap shattered, while another broke both his legs, which basically made certain he wouldn’t be going anywhere without help. The other two were in far more serious condition, as the third one with a broken leg had nearly bled to death by the time the mercenaries brought her to the camp.

Apparently a sharp end of her broken thigh bone had nicked a large artery, which caused severe bleeding that nearly killed the woman along the way. The condition of the last one was the most severe, as he had multiple damaged organs and broken bones everywhere that the medics said it was a miracle he even made the trip to the camp alive.

Curiously though, none of the Dvergarder soldiers were present in the tent other than the medics working on them, as instead several members of the mercenaries kept watch over them. Whether it was by coincidence or on purpose, most of the people inside were part of Elfriede’s group, specifically the former thugs amongst them.

“Go on, scream and whine some more,” said Nina as she prodded one man’s leg with her finger. The prod was gentle, but it was to an injured spot, and the tied-up captive in the bed gave a muffled scream, through the gag that covered his mouth. “Maybe your ma would come and get you if you scream loud enough.”

“Assuming she wasn’t too disappointed to have birthed a shitstain like you, that is,” jibed Kari from the other side of the bed. None of the people present in the tent other than the medic had any good sentiments towards nobles as a whole, and they made it clearly known with the captives as they mercilessly mocked and jabbed at them. “Or is the old hag too dead to come already? I know a good necro, we can raise her up so you can suckle on those rotting teats again.”

For their part, the medics treated the mercenaries as if they were not there, and simply focused on their task in silence. Since two of the captives had yet to regain consciousness, the three conscious ones ended up receiving the brunt of the abuse, all while they were tied up and powerless to retaliate.

Naturally, the mercenaries had not abused them just because they felt like it. Even if those particular members disliked nobles as a whole, that was no reason for them to do what they did. They were being paid to play the bad wardens, so the young Duchess could later step in and be the good, reasonable one.

“Your people seem to know exactly where to hurt them in the worst ways, Captain,” said the young Duchess a short distance outside the tent. She and Reinhardt stood close enough that the loud conversation from within the tent carried over to them, but their own talk would be inaudible from within as long as they spoke quietly.

“Well, many of them had legitimate reasons to hate nobles, Your Grace,” admitted Reinhardt honestly to the young noblewoman. Normally mercenaries like him would have refused a job that asked them to mistreat influential prisoners like these, but in this case, the captives already hated their guts anyway and he doubted he’d ever sign a contract with the Bostvans so why not earn some extra cash along the way? “Present company excluded, of course.”

“Oh, really?” asked the young Duchess with an inquisitive and playful look on her face. “Is it my good personality that charmed them?”

“Hell no, we’re totally mesmerized by that fat coin pouch of yours, Your Grace,” replied Reinhardt with a chuckle. The young Duchess was pretty easy going as nobles went, much like her father, and had been a good employer so far. He wouldn’t have jested with an employer he didn’t like working with. “Oh, right, here’s what you asked for,” added Reinhardt as he flicked a coin at the young Duchess.

“Many thanks, Captain,” said the young Duchess as she caught the coin in mid-air. It was a mere copper coin, the smallest denomination usually used by peasants, worth little for people like them. “With this the deal had been set in stone.”

“You know, I still find it hilarious that your treaties have such easily exploited loopholes,” said Reinhardt. “Much less that you’d walk us through on how to abuse them like this.”

“Well, what can I say, Captain? Those treaties were made during the days when we were still tribes roaming these lands. We were a far more… honest and honorable people back then,” said the young Duchess with a wistful sigh. “Becoming nobles seemed to have brought out the worst in our people, I’m afraid. Seeing how they had treated others that fell into their hands before, I honestly feel no qualms to accept your bribe to turn a blind eye to them getting roughed up by you and yours.”

“All while you pay us a bonus for roughing them up in the first place.”

“Hey, at least I’m sticking to the letter of our treaties,” said the young Duchess in a more cheerful tone as she walked closer to the tent. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I think it’s a good time to berate your troops for their insults to the nobility while I stroke those bruised egos our captives must have suffered.”

“Going to wring every little bit you get out of them before you ransom them off, huh?”

“Given the indignity I will have to go through to soothe their egos, damn straight I’m going to wring every drop of usefulness out of their bloody asses first.”