According to the men you had sent into Maurus' territory, there seemed to be an absence of, well, anything. The villages were all empty, or so it was thought at first. As it turns out, the villagers tend to hide whenever someone, or something, comes approaching, as Maurus' men tend to round up the young to work in the mines. These people are kept in line through a regime of terror and intimidation. At this point, only the old and the crippled, as well as the very young, are left in the villages.
When they did come across his men, your men feigned interest in buying some of his iron ore. However, as they haggled, Maurus' true intentions became clear. He demanded a hefty price for the ore and threatened violence if it was not paid. Fortunately for your horsemen, the brigands are more used to intimidating poorly armed and armoured peasants, not professional men-at-arms. They quickly broke through Maurus' feeble bodyguards and left for Trorlinos and have been awaiting your return for a few days.
From what you can gather, Maurus and co. are not professionals, at least not when it comes to proper setpiece battles; rather, they prefer targets that don't fight back.
You had fought against this type of scum before; in Greifswald, such men would often hide deep in the woods. Preying on isolated villages and caravans, Father had a series of specialist rangers patrol these forests, which helped, though some of them moved deeper into the forest, where things dark and dangerous dwell, so that problem usually solves itself; on the other hand, they tend to stick to sparsely populated areas on the border, where the men-at-arms are less thorough.
It was nearing the end of Pulvimons (X), and the winter solstice would happen at just over the halfway point of Nivosus. So you still had time, if you so wished, to pull a quick one, jump Maurus, kick him in the shins, and have his head on the Eparch's desk before the winter is even here. On the other hand, it might be prudent to postpone such actions until the new year.
>Maurus is a loose end that should have been tied up long ago; we will march.
>Though it pains my heart, I cannot aid the poor fellows who suffer under his oppression until next spring.
