TD - 15th Hussars HQ

When Willoughby was back in his room he did not remain cross legged without anything to do but stare at the ceiling. he asked for permission to acquire all that was needed to turn his uniform out proper, and so with the permission granted, and a private sent and come, he could get to work.

First he started on his pelisse, soaking the grass stains with warm water, then rinsing some vinegar - not the fruit kind - into the stains. Leaving them so for a short while, he turned his attention to his dolman. The Braid was washed till it was again as white as before, scrubbed and then checked for any damage or tear.

He returned to the pelisse and rinsed it with the water again, till he was sure that the grass stains could no longer be seen. Washing the furr gently, he ruffed it up, then hung the coat over the back of a chair to dry. He made sure he could take as much water from it, before doing so. No need to have a large puddle of water on the floor, after all.

His attention on his dolman again he checked it as he did the pelisse and once satisfied hung it across the chair's front, adjusting it so, that it would not fall.

He unfastened the cloth that he wore about his neck. Washing and rinsing it quickly he laid it to dry. Still not even half finished he checked at his shirt and was glad that it wasn't dirty. Debating whether to wash it or not, he came to a conclusion that for now it would do. He looked at his riding breeches next. The ones enforced on the inside with leather and darker in colour, a red stripe on the side. They couldn't be used for any occasion - such as parade or the like - yet they still got a looking through just to be sure. Satisfied he nodded to himself and then turned to look at his boots.

They had already recieved some good polishing, but more would hardly hurt.

Some time passed before he stood again and walked to the door, gently rapping at it: "Sergeant.." He began. ".. May I.. ask for permission to be given another fill of water?"

Parker who was listening to the youthful, younger then Willouhgby, trooper, grunted and unlocked the door, directing the boy to take the basin and bring Willoughby more water. He did not like that trooper ended up being treated like a prince due to his confinement but if the Captain wanted him kept here so he would be.

The boy reappeared a short while later and handed the basin to Willoughby casting an annoyed glance at him. Parker shut the door and muttered: 'Don't know, why he is bothering, he'll be mucking stables out in a short while.' This made the young trooper forget his annoyance and grin at Parker.

Willoughby thanked the sergeant and disappeared inside. He looked at his pelisse and dolman. He hadn't missed what the sergeant said and frowned. He knew his boots might turn filthy with the muck and that he hardly had in his possession the stable's clothes that his peers usually wore when working with the horses. However atleast his two coats would be spared. He did not intend to work in either of them.

And having his time to clean them now, would yet make a difference, or did, in his mind. He had indeed then washed his hair and face, and hands , dried the first, ran it through till it was worthy of a glance and then, braiding his hair back into a queue as much as he could - doing it on his own - he carried the remaining water and so back to the door.

"...thank you.. sergeant." He murmured. He hadn't been worried about the second trial any more. It would not come. If it had, he'd have heared of it already by now. Wishing to converse but knowing he could not, he'd solely waited at the door for the basin to be taken away, more out of want than need.

He looked thoughtful for a moment. Sure he had just cleaned his shoes, but the thought kept nagging at his mind. Mucking out the stables did mean , being around the horses, of which the later he hadn't considered a punishment at all. Some would, some British Horsemen thought a horse just a means of transportation and mostly did not take care of them for more than they were ordered. And even then look sour. He'd just enjoyed the company of the animals, having spent the better days of his life with the kind.

"..One more.. thing , sergeant." He hesitated. It would sound so odd to ask that. It was going to be his duty though, so start early or late, he could not avoid it: " May I...begin with my punishment today? Now, sergeant?"

Parker looked at the boy as if he'd just said he was the Prince of Arabia, but remembering the captain's orders he shook his head.
'No, the doctor said you are not to resume your duties at least until tomorrow. Don't worry, your punishment will be served soon enough.'

"...Yes, sergeant." He wasn't sure whether he was relieved or disappointed about the answer. In part he'd expected it and though his leg and head might've demanded a day's rest, his mind was as restless as the heart of an untamed stallion.

He stepped away from the door, saluted and ,with nothing more to be said, turned. He came to pace across the room, still a slight limp in his step. It would go away though, and had gone to near perfection by now. He walked to the window and looked outside. Of what he could see there were some men on horses still and others who have just returned from their drill. Some were merrily chatting away at how they would now go into town. Others would have complained about having to look prime for the next day. No less, they found it no hard task to do both, and so in threes, fours, smaller or larger groups, they left the standing quarters for the 15th hussars, and headed for town.

He sighed, and turned, tapping his fingers against the windowsill. He sat again, on his bed, tucked the pillow under his head, and the book in his hand. Lying so, by now ready to go to sleep, with his tummy rumbling him one, he pulled the worn down blanket over and up to his waist. He yawned and began to read. A story at a time, till his eyes became heavy. At one point he nodded asleep, the book resting at his chest. A soft and slow rise and fall, with a hand resting against its hard back. Asleep, with no nightmares to haunt him.

It was a very unhappy trooper Naphy who brought Willoughby dinner, around eight in the evening. He was ordered to take Parker's place so that the Sergeant could attend to his personal effects in preparation for review and dinner. When the Sergeant returned to take up his post again, Naphy was sent to get some dinner for Willoughby.

Willoughby was still asleep when Naphy was sent to fetch his meal, but the book which he had read was now lying on the floor, carefully laid down. The blanket covered him up to his shoulders and he slept almost as well as if somebody had shot him.

He hadn't stirred even when the door was unlocked and open for the food to be brought in.

Naphy's hands were occupied with the food, so he called to the man on the bed:
'Hey, you, wake up!'

Willoughby stirred, his eyes briefly opening then he was about to turn and sleep further, till he somehow realised he was not dreaming and that someone was really shouting to him. So with a stiffled groan he sat up and looked at Naphy.

" Ah's you.." He rubbed his eyes with one hand and pushed himself up to his feet approaching the trooper.

Naphy pushed the food at Willoughby. 'There, princess, your dinner. I can't believe they had me fetching it for you.'

"If it makes you feel any better.. I'll be fetching the dung of your horse tomorrow." Willoughby answered balancing the food in his hold.

Naphy snorted and walked towards the door:
'You know, it does, it actually does. Just don't do it before the Grand Review, we don't want you stinking like manure while the General is close by, now do we?'

"I'll do it, when I'm ordered. You know that. " He placed the food on his small excuse of a table and turned to look at Naphy. "Have you heard which horse I might be having for the Grand Review?.. if one, that is?"

Naphy shrugged.
'I don't know. To be honest I think you are allowed to the Grand Review only because Parker needs to be there and the Captain doesn't trust anyone else not to let you do anything else stupid.' Naphy opened the door and paused, remembering something. 'Hey, where is that horse you rode to Coimbra? I've got to take it back to 62nd.'

"Bella, you mean? " It was a silly question for both of the men knew of which horse they spoke. With a sigh, that was barely heard and a look on his face, just as barely betraying how he felt about that, he answered.

"Look with the Scot Greys. She should be in their stables..Last one in line. A lusitano, buckskin." He added to help Naphy find the right horse and obviously not to take one of the cavalry. Which might turn to be an amusing feat of confusion, but there'd probably less of the men laughing once the Grand Review was set.

"She's a lively one. ..and she bites. So be careful about that." He shook his head. He managed to help her ever so slightly in becoming better. She did have potential if only she also had someone dividing much of his attention to only her.

" The Foot regiments...well, it is quite obvious why their name is Foot. " He smiled faintly. He had wished to see her a last time, but he could not request it now and he doubted the sergeant would allow.

Naphy sighed. 'You got attached to her, didn't you? Willoughby, it's not for nothing they tells us to think of our horses as a weapon, we don't have the luxury of liking them.'

" Our horses are a weapon yes. ....so are rifles of the riflemen. And even they treat them as if they were lasses and care for their spit and shine."

He looked at Naphy, allowing a mere flicker of his emotions to be betrayed at that moment. "She was a fine horse, even if she'd have given any woman a run for her money in how wild she was... is." He corrected himself, as the horse was still well enough, breathing, eating and kicking. And the last he expected could come again.

"Don't say you'd be completely unfeeling if you were made to part ways with your Blaze, just because someone else wanted it? Not because you'd not ride well, or he were killed." Certainly they could not say anything, and there were some who cared for a horse as far as it could carry them.

Naphy fell silent, for he didn't know what to say to Willoughby. Deep inside he knew it would be hard to lose his Blaze, who sometimes was even called Miraculous Blaze, because he survived more battles than usual. After a few moments of reflection, Naphy looked at Willoughby and asked, trying to look cheerful.
'Do you want to... Do you want to see your new horse? That'll cheer you up'

Willoughby considered it. A new horse might take his mind of his other. The sooner he knew him or her, the better. A horse always calmed one's mind or just distracted it in all the right ways. Bella might find an untimely end due to the handling of men, who usually had a lot less to do with horses. Else of course, they would have joined the cavalry, if their knowledge was as vast.

Well, hoping against hopes that they might one day see sense and that it would not be too late for the horse which was perhaps lively, energetic and mischevious. Yet certainly worth the attention and patience and of course a lot of time spent with her. His mind then strayed to his current position. His current interest.. and soon to be his keep.

"Yes,.. I would like that. " A horse to calm one's mind and a future to look to. The horsemen might've been a different breed of men, but not the bad kind of different.

'Alright then, hold on.' Naphy stepped out of the room and approached Parker, who was sitting on a chair in the corridor. He explained what he wanted from the Sergeant. At first Parker laughed, then frowned, then told Naphy that they were all crazy. In the end Naphy asked:
'What did the Captain order you exactly?'
'To take him up here and keep and eye on him?'
'See, he said nothing about not letting him leave the room.' Pleaded Naphy. Parker got up finally.
'Well, I do not why I am agreeing to this, it is mad and stupid and makes us all look like girls pining away for their ponies.' Parker walked to the room and turned to Naphy again.
'You are to stay here and make sure the Captain doesn't get to hear of this or it'll be all our necks in the noose.'
Naphy smiled a little nervously: 'Well, it is a lark worthy of hussars.'
Parker grunted and winced: 'It is a lark worthy of brainless idiots, that's what it is.' Without another word he opened the door and motioned for Willoughby to come out.

While the two had talked Willoughby , though believing the request would not be a success, had still gotten himself ready and dressed. Boots as good as new too. He wasn't sure whether the sergeant would want him in his full uniform or if, perchance, he could go even in only his shirt, which was dry.

So as the door opened he still expected Naphy to return and tell him it wasn't possible, and was pleasantly surprised when it was Parker. Even then though, he was doubtful and expected to get a shouting to for something of the sort.

When he saw he was motioned outside he left the room and looked questionably at Parker. He hadn't had his ear to the door to hear what they spoke of, so rather he found himself waiting for the final verdict.

Parker growled in the best impression of Captain Pierce:
'How long are you going to stand like that?! Come on, we don't have all night.' He muttered something else under his breath and threw a baleful glance at Naphy.

"Yes sir!" Willoughby said curt and quick, and then marched after Parker, keeping his face straight and formal. He was thankful that he was able to see this new creature sooner. Perhaps it would be something to busy his mind for the rest of the evening. Or.. well, he was wondering if the choice of the horse they've picked for him was indeed in some way reflecting their view on his earlier 'behavour'. He hoped he might not end up with a scrawny, barely able to walk, kind of creature, or even a mule instead of a horse but reckoned he'd have to wait and see.

Parker shut the door and locked it, stowing away the key carefully.
'Naphy, which horse has been assigned to him?' asked Parker. The trooper looked positively uneasy when he asnwered.
'Err.. The spanish one...'. Parker blinked.
'Not Spotted Dick?' asked Parker sounding incredulous. Naphy nodded solemnly.
'Him, Sergeant. I am afraid that the Captain has it in for you, Willoughby.' said Naphy almost apologetically. Parker shushed him and led Timothy away.

Alright. That did not sound good. The start of a horse's introduction began almost as bad as he dreaded. A Spanish horse could still have been good or bad, but seeing the look on Naphy's face and hearing him, set Willoughby into an anxious mood.

"..Ah... thanks." He managed. What kind of horse lay behind such a name? He bit at his lip near nervously, as he followed after the sergeant. What kind of horse?