July 23, 1809: The message arrives

"Barrel slipped through his fingers and caught the toe with the rim first - the boot couldn't prevent the bone from the impact of the edge."

Torrington confirmed.

"No, half an hour should be quite alright. If Vickery should come, he could perhaps sign two thigs here - otherwise please tell him that I will do myself the honour of bothering him tomorrow morning for his signature."

"I think he will be quite hard pressed to come now, and sleep somewhat longer in the morning for it." Willoughby laughed softly. "Alright." With a curt salute, without the sword this time he retreated towards he exit of the tent. "An easy and fast completion of the last task." He wished then ducked out the tent. He looked like a mishmash of officer and trooper attire, the old contrasting with the new even if the first had still been taken as good care of as Willoughby could master.

Herrero would love the news too. No longer just a trooper's horse, he would now have the pride of being an officer's horse! With that came some benefits which Herrero has felt justified and only befitting to his excellence and which he should have had much sooner!

But first, Willoughby needed to find Captain Vickery's tent and hope that the man was there. He felt nice, warm and fuzzy. When outside, he saw the young rifleman hunched over, asleep. He chuckled quietly. It was a strange, unusual sight. The bundle of energy has finally met his match. No doubt however, come morning, he will be up and buzzing about like a good little bee, doing ten things all at the same time and never spilling a drop of coffee. He passed him silently, only making sure that the youth could not tip over into the fire, should the gravity pull him any further down in any direction and then walked on. No good in having a roasted batman for breakfast!

The world, with all its worst moments, was great today! He may have gotten a few funny faces after having hummed a merry tune to himself, a few confused, at the sight of his new sash that was made of much better materials, but he did not care. With his papers on promotion, his letter from his grandfather and no duel on his conscience because he had offended Torrington with his horse, things could not have gone better.

Torrington sighed, shook his head, straightend out his cuffs, and settled down to work again. When he had finished the powder accounts, he took a sip from his coffee, but it had gone cold.

Willoughby passed several campfires before he reached the one from the 95th rifles. He approached the tent and looked around to see if Cotton, Vickery's batman, was anywhere to be found and equally if Vickery happened to be outside.

He adjusted his sword a little and straightened giving an air of one who had not just drunk several glasses of wine. Ready to see Vickery!

Cotton was sitting cross-legged (as much as he could, he not being the most supple of men) near a fire, one eye on the kettle hung over it, whistling tunelessly as he rubbed Captain Vickery's sword down.

"Hey." Willoughby spotted Cotton and turned to walk to him. "Cotton!" He grinned at the man. "Do you know where Captain Vickery is?" He inquired. " Is he in his tent?" He was hopeful that it would be just this easy.

"Hulloa," Cotton called across cheerily, looking up from his task. He frowned as he realised the cavalryman was wearing an officer's sash over his jacket, in some strange confusion of uniform. What on earth...?

"The Captain? Oh - he's inside. D'you want me to see if he'll see you?" he asked, setting the sword to one side and getting to his feet.

"That would be great." Willoughby nodded wondering if Cotton was actually having trouble in recognising him. He would have been surprised if it was so but never the less he added. "Can you tell him that Willoughby wishes to speak with him?"

"O' course," Cotton said, wondering why Willoughby would think he might not have recognised him. He had no problem recognising people, after all.

"Back d'rectly minute," he said instead, lifting the tent-flap and ducking inside. A murmur of voices - Cotton's slightly deeper one and Vickery's marginally higher tenor - could be heard, though no words could be made out.

Cotton came back out. "He'll see you, if you'd like to go in," he said, still trying to solve the puzzle of sash and other ranks' uniform.

"Thank you." Willoughby smiled. "...I'll explain when I'm back." He suddenly added as he passed Cotton. He must have noticed the look his sash was getting or guessed.

Ducking under the flap he entered Vickery's tent. He glanced about quickly and then went a few steps further in before stopping.

Vickery had re-capped his inkwell and was just wiping his pen off. "What can I do for you?" he said, turning in his chair to look up at the cavalryman. "Cotton said you wanted to see me, though he didn't say why."

"Yes, sir." Willoughby took another step forward and then held the paper that announced his promotion for Vickery to read. "Just wanted to come here to tell you the good news in person."

He debated whether to tell him out right or have Vickery read it instead. " Of course I've not been able to get everything changed properly, but...these are a nice start." He indicated his sabre and sash.

Vickery took the offered sheet with a slight frown of bemusement. He read it through once, then a second time, before giving it back and standing up. "Well, it seems you are to be congratulated, Cornet. May I offer you my hand?" He held his hand out, a smile on his face.

Willoughby offered his for the handshake and grinned. "Thank you. Though I must say that it is not on the grounds of extraordinary success but rather it is due to a purchase." He held himself much straighter and prouder. The change was evident even if he was just a small step higher and still subordinate to almost all.

"I wished to invite you to a small bit of celebration that is being held at Torrington's tent. Just a bit of wine I managed to bring. Nothing serious."

"Most promotions are due to purchase," Vickery said. "There's nothing at all wrong with that. Though I suggest you find yourself a suitable jacket as quickly as you may - you will confuse everybody if you continue dressed like that. I'd offer to lend you mine, but the colour is quite wrong, even if the pattern is not. Lead on, by all means." He indicated the tent-flap. "If Torrington won't mind us descending on him, anyway."

"Oh, I do know it is not." He smiled. "Most promotions are done in that way, though it earns you less bragging rights than if your exemplary achievements had earned you a new rank." He was cheerful either way.

"Do not worry about my uniform, it should be sorted out very soon while I will return this one, pelisse, dolman and all." He slipped out from the tent and held the flap open for Vickery to follow him. "Oh, there is another matter he wishes to discuss with you..or rather, that you need to sign for him. He told me to notify you of that as well."

"Sign... I am not signing anything more for the rest of the day. I think my hand may be about to fall off if I do," Vickery said lightly. "Really, the amount of paperwork one does as a company commander on detached service is simply incredible - company returns, receipts for this and that, company accounts to be double-checked..." He grinned. "Still, you won't have as much paperwork as that, being only a Cornet and not on detached service." He clapped Willoughby on the shoulder. "Let us toast your good fortune, then."

"I worry about that part of my service and hope, trully hope, that my pile of paperwork does not rise to be as high as either yours or Captain Torrington's." His grin widened and he laughed softly and merrily.

".. you would not happen to know how much of it a cornet must do, perhaps have a few small pointers on where to be careful when 'starting the career' of an officer?" He inquired and added with a grin. "Oh .. and he also told me to tell you that, in the case you do not sign it today,.. two things he has, he will have to bother you tomorrow morning with it!"

"I cannot speak from experiences of being a cavalry officer for I have never been such," Vickery said. "But learn your trade. And remember an officer's eyes are more important than his sword, for your men will look to you to decide what should be done - though give them the result you wish for and let them figure out how best to do it, for they know their skills and what may be done, and you should learn how best to employ them." He thought a little more. "If you need advice in a situation, never be afraid to listen to your sergeant - a good sergeant is worth his weight in gold. But the final decision will be yours alone - and whether it is right or wrong, it is your responsibility."

"I can say at least, I have not been completely ignorant of the ways the cavalry is run, being that I've not come from outside but have... served in the ranks, for the better or worse." Willoughby smiled, agreeing on all points that Vickery had made. "Though we might not act in similar fashion to the Riflemen." He added softly.

"...I knew that there were reasons why the rank of an officer did not sound like such a brilliant idea!" He spoke in mock horror then smiled. "I will lend an ear to the non commissioned and hopefully preserve as much life as I can, while gaining the results needed. ... I will need to inform my friends of this change too."

"It's not so bad. If one does take the responsibility for failure, one also gets the recognition for success," Vickery pointed out. "Here we are," he added as they approached Torrington's tent.

"Is my lord Torrington at home to friends?" he enquired in a slightly louder voice so that Torrington could hear.

"Depends ... do said friends bring any more paperwork or are going to insist on formal addresses?", Torrington called back, tidying his desk.

He had mostly finished what he had to do, though he would probably read through it once again tomorrow morning, just to make sure he had not made any mistakes due to his tiredness.

"Not at all," Vickery replied, his voice light. "One of them has had quite enough paperwork of his own, after all. Although he has been informed that has yet more things to sign. May we come in?"

Torrington pulled the canvas back to allow his guests easy entry.

"Yes, of course. And if you could just sign off on the powder and the incident report, then I can hunt down Captain Fraser in the morning for his signature and be done with this."

He smiled at Vickery and gestured to the two documents he had left on his desk, then looked at Willoughby with a raised eyebrow, silently asking whether all was still well.

Willoughby nodded in return, knowhing that at a later time, tomorrow maybe, he might return and have cotton less in the dark about his comical attire. Now though he strolled to the table and gazing at Torrington and then towards where another glass , neatly wrapped up, could be foound, as if asking for permission to take one and pour wine in it for Vickery.