60th's billet

"Finally," Meister said, rolling his eyes. "I had to restrain myself when they were flogging Cotton - shrieking and wailing. She's the one who got him flogged in the first place, thieving bitch."

"So it was she that done it?" This really was interesting. "She was the one what prigged the officer's watch, was it?"

First they've wanted to have a go at Hakeswill, and now these men were having a very dishonourable talk about Cotton's lass. He wasn't one to care much about things, usually.

He breathed in sharply, and covered his mouth with a hand. Keep calm and quiet. The worst time to be voicing any opinion. Not with that sort of hostile air. But what to do after? What?

"She was 'keeping it safe' while Cotton told Fickery that they'd found it somewhere." Meister spat to show what he thought of that. "Sure they found it - in the officer's pocket. I bet the whore lured him in, and Cotton did him from behind."

"Caught red handed," Stubenrauch confirmed. "She was showing to this other woman - trying to flog it like as not - and an officer caught her. She couldn't deny it - so why wasn't she up there for the court-martial?"

"Fickery," said Meister triumphantly, twisting the pronunciation of the word.

Young Schwoll chuckled quietly as he shook out his boots. No matter how many times he heard it, he always laughed - as long as there was no officer nearby to catch him laughing.

"I reckon that captain she stole it from - he was one of her customers. Vickery, or-" he looked over his shoulder quickly "Fickery - probably set it up himself. Pimps her out to other officers while Cotton snatches their loot!"

He shifted again, just a little more so that he could see the small group. Shielded some by his coat's collar he could make out a few faces. He recognised enough. Drunken fools.

"Shut up, Schwoll," Meister said disdainfully - he hatred the craven little brown-noser. "It's damned favouritism. Start making it into a conspiracy and no one will take it serious."

Schwoll snorted. "It's a big coincidence, is all I'm saying. That captain was friends with Vickery. I heard he even ate with him that very night. That Cotton was probably serving their food! And later Cotton and his whore are caught with the man's things?" He shook his head.

"...Is it that though..?" Weber muttered under his breath, placing a card down. Braun and himself had been sitting by the closed ring, and the latter had even taken a swig of the drink. He glanced at Schwoll, and cursed in German upon the next card laid down by the other rifleman.

"Why would Fickery pretend to be an officer's friend to rob him of a damned pocket watch, Schwoll?" Mommsen asked. "You're being daft."

Schwoll did not have an answer for that. He stared at his boot with a thoughtful frown.

"Why would Cotton even want that watch? Being a batman as is." Weber asked, glancing at Mommsen.

Schwoll did have an answer for that. "Money, you idiot! It's probably silver or gold!"

"Look, I'm saying it's probable Cotton did it," said Meister imperiously. "Saw it at the dinner or whatever. But accusing an officer of favouritism ain't the same as attempted murder."

"We don't know if he did it. He could have or maybe he didn't. Perhaps the officers know more than us and that's why they've left him where he is? " Weber shrugged.

"What's it to us?"

Braun looked up, and with a silent curse lowered his cards. ".. another one."

"The whore was trying to sell it - that's when she was caught." Stubenrauch blew smoke. "That Cotton is a gullible fool - I wonder if it was him did for the other Captain, or some other bully boy she has on a string."

"Isn't selling herself.. what I've seen." Weber shrugged. "Don't think her distress was right played. But you should know better, of course." He added sarcasm clear in his voice.

"Though.. she mus' be some impressive woman to be able to do all that, I must say. Vile little creature wielding great power over man kind. Better watch yourselves, lads."

Braun shook his head. "She's been awful guilty though. Had it in her hand, can't deny that!"

"That's just it. Women are like spiders. Little venomous things that use a man and then eat him right up."

Waidmann bit off his thread and looked up to eye the speaker with distaste:

"No. No they are not. Most of them are loyal, hardy, take care of their men and their childern and bear the hardship of marching with us cheerfully. Remember, when Howans was flogged, and he got the whole 300, his wife didn't just wail and cry, she stepped up when it was over, covered him with his greatcoat and marched on, carrying his jacket, knapsack, and pouch. Shame he died anyway."

"Speaking against camp followers first, and then all for them. I'm confused." Weber held the pack of cards towards Braun to shuffle.

"What's with all you lot speaking so bad about one rifle's lass anyway. Would think you were all jealous she didn't pick you." He shook his head and pointed to a card, which looked far less faded than the rest. "..count them." He told Braun.

"Weber, don't you know the difference between a whore and a decent woman? Four wives our company was allowed to bring with it - four wives on the Company books, and the rest - my Renele among them - left to look after themselves back in England. And of those four - surprising, isn't it, that two of them were wives of the Englanders! Two for the handful of them, and two for the seventy odd of us. A fair ballot?" Stubenrauch spat in the flames. "So how come this whore is here, sharing the Captain's digs? No marriage, a whore and a thief, and she gets invited in. It's favouritism, and I've had about enough of it."

"Do tell me that it is drink that speaks out of you, Stubenrauch. For yours is a dangerous talk." He didn't like the looks of that redcoat. A sergeant that loathed riflemen or atleast one of them with such a passion. And he wasn't even their sergeant.

He switched to German with what he said next: "Not fair? Favouritism? Are you questioning the decisions made by our officers, our superiors? And infront of a that sergeant never the less. You're not that daft!"

He shook his head pointing out another card, that Braun had shuffled in. "Not faded enough, recount." And then his attention was back.

"You'd rather your wife had to enjoy the joys of war, and them French?" He added.

Meister stared balefully at Weber, and spoke in Frisian-accented German. "Not everyone is a Kameradenschwein. I'm more worried about Pye over there. Ain't no punishment for civilly discussing - we're not planning anything, or plotting. Just observing. And what we're observing is damned favouritism."