Training Day - Skirmishing

Sharpe grinned. "Don't look so worried, Carty. You ain't in trouble." In fact, he was as far from being in trouble as a man could get, Sharpe thought. "They just want to say well done, that's all, lad."

Carty resisted the temptation to peer around to find the elusive 'they'. "For- For flag, sir?"

"Yes. Cotton weren't the only one to take it - he told Captain Vickery so. And the Captain told the Colonel."

"He means you, lad," said Harris. "You're to go up with Gabe Cotton. The Captain told the Colonel and the Colonel wants both of you up there."

"But-" Carty looked from Harris to Sharpe, and back to Harris. "If is for saying good for having flag, then you go with me, Harris. You my partner - your flag."

Sharpe nodded in agreement. "Colonel wants you as well, Harris. Like the lad says, they couldn't have done it without their partners."

Harris grimaced, then nodded. "You're nothing without your partner, lad. Here, or in battle: stick with your partner." He gave another nod to Mr Sharpe. "Right. I'll go with him. But it was Carty that got the flag - Sir."

"What are they doing? What are they doing?" Maggie asked no one in particular, craning her neck to see.

"I know that, Harris. But he wouldn't have, if it wasn't for you. Now get up there with the others, go on."

Maggie finally pushed her way past the men in front of her, big lummoxes Didn't they know from the shouts that there were women behind them? Didn't they know that women were usually smaller than they were? Couldn't they turn around and perhaps notice that she was in fact quite small? But now she could see uninhibited, and she grinned to watch Cotton and the others approach the colonel. The same colonel Edrington who had ordered Gabe to be flogged. Well now he would see that Cotton was a fine soldier, and as fine a rifleman as there could be.

Cotton waited for the Carty and Harris to come up so they approach the Colonel together. He hoped the Colonel had been pleased with their demonstration - well, he hadn't appeared to be anything other than pleased. Still Cotton was a little nervous of the man, which was probably perfectly understandable after the events of only a few short days ago. His back was mostly healed, though still a little tender, as was only to be expected.

He took a firmer grip on his rifle and marched up along with the others.

Carty kept close to Harris, constantly shooting looks over his shoulder at Mister Sharpe - he grinned shly at Cotton, but the grin fell away as the Colonel approached, and he tried to look as a serious soldier should; no nerves at all...

"Look at little Mícheál, bless him," Maggie whispered.

"He's sweet," Jenny agreed, but with some reserve.

The four men approached, with a variety of expressions. Edrington knew three of them well - Cotton, of course, and young Carty and Harris, both from the gully where the French Hussars had been killed, and from that confrontation later.

"That was an excellent display of the work of the Rifles Companies - which I know impressed the Staff as well as those of us who are in the Line Regiments. Personally, you have shown yourselves to be highly skilled skirmishers. I would like you to accept this, as representatives of your companies. A drink - if your officers allow you to indulge - before we have more urgent need of your skills." He passed a small purse to Carty, and another, heavier, to Cotton. "Thank you, again, for the demonstration. And - for those who are competing later, good luck."

[OOC - I think 5 guineas and 10 guineas would buy more than enough drink for everyone in each company - a couple of days pay each, roughly.]

Carty looked down at the purse in his hand, and then up at the Colonel, a smile spreading across his face. "Thank you, sir."

Edrington smiled back at the youngster. "It was a pleasure to watch you, Rifleman Carty. And you, Rifleman Cotton. I was - glad to see that you were one of the first to the flag." He glanced across at Vickery, who still held it. "I will keep it until it can be replaced with one from the French."

Cotton blinked at the weight of the purse handed to him and smiled. "Thank you very much, sir," he said, looking back up at the Colonel. Did he mean it - that he was glad it was Cotton? He certainly looked as though he meant it. "We... we'll try an' get you a real one, sir," he said.

The Colonel's very unfamiliar manner of speaking meant that Carty missed half of what he said, but his face and tone of voice were kind and complimentary, and Carty's smile grew wider, his ears hot.

"What did he say?" Maggie asked Jenny, straining to hear and watching the proceedings eagerly. "It's money - I think he's giving them money!"

Whatever was in the purse would be enough to buy the whole Company drinks, Cotton was sure of it.

Roper grinned, standing beside him. "Thank you very much, sir!" he said, smiling broadly.

"These are not your normal duties," Edrington said. "But I am proud of you - personally, and of your comrades. You showed your value yesterday, of course, but today your skills can be appreciated rather more."

Proud. He was proud of them. Cotton nodded a little, absorbing the words. He was proud of them.

That... that went a long way to restoring his good name. Now he just had to prove the Captain was right to keep him on. He managed to stand a little straighter, feeling a lot more like his old self.

Vickery discreetly beckoned Sharpe to stand with his two Riflemen of the 95th, as he was standing my his own men. Cotton glanced at him, curiously, but he ignored it. Sharpe stepped forward, also looking a little curious.

"My lord, it would give me great pleasure if you would allow me to present you, on behalf of both the 95th here present and my own Company of the 60th, with the spoils of victory." He held the flag out to Edrigton. "We would also like to thank you for allowing us to use our own tactics in battle and for giving us time to demonstrate those tactics to yourself, the men under your command and the other regiments in the Division. I hope our association with you and your regiment will be a long and fruitful one, sir."

Edrington took the step forward, his hands held out so the flag could be laid on them. "Captain Vickery, Lieutenant Sharpe, and men of the 60th and the 95th Rifles, here today. I have great pleasure in accepting this flag, won by representatives of each regiment. And look forward to - one day - receiving another, taken directly from the French."

He nodded to Cotton and Carty, and their partners. "I think I can say that we - myself, the 62nd Regiment, and everyone else here - are grateful for the chance to watch your demonstation of tactics, in a way we cannot do in action. It gives us a greater appreciation of what you - the Rifles - do." He smiled, remembering Wellesley's refusal to commit himself. "For myself, I too hope that our association will continue, and we can enjoy the fruits it is already promising."

He lowered his voice and the smile became more natural. "Thank you, that was well done. And the shooting competition will add to the picture. I understand you have some excellent marksmen. Riflemen Cotton and Carty again, I believe."

Vickery gently placed the flag across Edrington's palms.

"Yes, sir. We are able to employ the tactics we do because of the accuracy of the weapon we use, and some of our best marksmen - from both Companies - would like to demonstrate."

It was only right and proper that both Carty and Cotton were among those who would be taking part in the competition, after proving themselves on the field as skirmishers.

He smiled. "Our men are trained to target officers and NCOs first, to cause as much disruption among the enemy ranks as possible, and we look forward to showing you how we can do that."