27 May; Prisoners

"Thank you, sir," Vickery said, and saluted. He had more or less had the whole mess sprung on him and to palm it off on another regiment entirely wasn't something he was comfortable with doing. Colonel Trevor seemed a reasonable man, though, and didn't seem too upset about having the whole mess dumped on him, even though he would end up presiding over the resulting court martial. It wasn't something Vickery could sort out himself, without being completely unfair to the provosts involved. Not that Vickery particularly cared about that right at the moment, though. They should not have overstepped their authority as they had done, after all, so anything that happened now was their own fault.

He couldn't let his anger over their pettiness colour his actions, though. Such a thing would be as selfish as their actions had been.

"One less thing to worry about, eh?" Blackwood remarked, once he too had left the tent. He was already forming ideas as to how he could best approach the Lieutenant Cobb without running into problems with the man's superiors. It would not surprise him over-much to encounter difficulties from them, simply as a matter of course.

"We had best find Graham," he went on. "He is decent enough fellow, though he is rather too fond of the hunt. I daresay this will be an unwelcome interruption to his plans for the coming days." He quirked a grin. "The poor fellow."

Vickery pulled his shako off and ran his cuff over his forehead. It had been damnably sticky inside that tent. "Is your Colonel usually so accommodating when it comes to having problems dropped on him by stray officers?" he asked, replacing his hat. "And I must confess to hoping that your Lieutenant Graham - or whoever takes the role of defence - doesn't do too good a job of it. I am no lover of the lash, but what they did to Newbury was unforgivable."

"Ordinarily? Not particularly." Blackwood couldn't help a grin. "I believe we were lucky to speak with him when we did. In an hour, I expect his temper will be decidedly less friendly."

Which meant he had to find Lieutenant Graham and send him along quickly. But that should be easy; Graham was probably rounding up some other officers for a short hunt. Or at least trying to.

"Is he truly bad off, your Rifleman?"

Well, that was a piece of good news, then. "His knee was pretty bad to start with, but at least he could walk. When I spoke to him before coming to find you, he was in the surgeon's wagon, dosed to the gills with laudanum and looking as if he'd gone ten rounds with a prize-fighter. I would be surprised if he doesn't have a cracked rib. His skull is pretty hard though; he had a lump the size of a pigeon's egg but the surgeon didn't tell me he'd sustained a fractured skull. Though he was concussed, and badly. I don't expect him to be on his feet for several days."

He sighed. "We're known for taking the brightest recruits. Newbury isn't going to become famous for his brain, but he is solid and dependable. And now he's going to be away for rather longer than I had anticipated. And to think I sent the three of them back here to keep them out of trouble."

That sounded... particularly unpleasant. Blackwood cringed. "I dislike how it sounds to say, but I do hope your surgeon declares him fit to stand as a witness. His appearance alone will no doubt carry a great deal of weight."

He looked around and thought he spotted the familiar gangly figure of Lieutenant Graham. Good. "There are three Riflemen with the baggage, including this fellow Newbury?"

He wanted Newbury to stand as a witness, too. He nodded. "Indeed. And there are four riflemen currently with the baggage if you include Rifleman Jestel, who is batman to my senior Lieutenant, although the only thing he had to do with this was coming to inform me about it."

"Hm." Four Riflemen, then, but only three would need looking after. He did not have any of his company back with the baggage however, unfortunately. "Do you know if they will be safe on their own?"

"I have ordered Newbury confined to the surgeon's wagon until he can walk, when all three of them will return to the rest of my company, in the van. Cotton has his head screwed on right, and he will keep an eye on young Pye. I gave those two the option of returning with me, only Cotton seemed to feel it was his duty to watch out for Newbury until he is fit again." He shrugged. "Which is understandable enough - they are partners, after all."

Naturally. Friends would want to stay together. Blackwood nodded. "I shall see what arrangements can be made for their benefit - I'm sure the provosts' officer will not take any of this kindly. Mister Graham! A word, if you please."

The loose-limbed Graham came loping over, managing to keep from looking annoyed at being interrupted from whatever he was organising. "Sir."

"The colonel wishes to see you, on a matter of particular importance. Promptly as well, I should think."

"Yes sir," Graham said, his hidden annoyance melting away in favour of a trace of worry. He moved along briskly toward Trevor's tent.

"I am sure he will not. If he had better control of his men and did not let them abuse what authority they have been entrusted with, he would not have to deal with the consequences of that abuse." Vickery was of the opinion that if there was rot in the lower ranks, you should look to the officers and NCOs for the causes and cure of that rot.

"Very true. I am of half a mind to accompany Lieutenant Graham when he visits this provost officer, if only to keep it all nominally pleasant."

After, of course, he spoke with the lieutenant from the Twenty-seventh. Cobb, was the man's name, wasn't it?

"He struck me as the sort of officer who will agree with you to your face and won't do a thing to change whatever it is you're upset about," Vickery said "I had just come back from speaking with him about something else to find that his men were kicking Newbury in, you see."

Blackwood shook his head. "He wants straightening out of his own, it seems. Well. We had better get on with our separate errands, else none of this will get resolved. It may be best for your lads to keep close to their surgeon's wagon, perhaps. I shall see if there are any of my own men back there, for it never hurts to have support."

His batman appeared, leading the two horses. Blackwood took his mount's reins and swung up into the saddle. "It is a shame that the French are not our only enemies out here."

Vickery accepted Brandy's reins from Blackwood's man and swung himself into the saddle. "I do apologise for presenting you with this shambles, and I am very grateful for your help in sorting it out. It is indeed a pity that we have such people in our own ranks, but it cannot be helped and we must do the best we can."

Telling Cotton and Pye to keep close to the surgeon's wagon themselves seemed like a sensible suggestion, and he would also suggest Cotton keep Maggie nearby. Although that might be superfluous, of course. Cotton did not strike him as the sort of man who would keep his bride at a distance if he could help it.

"It is hardly a bother," Blackwood said. At least not for him. "Let us hope it can be favourably sorted out, for all parties."

"Let us hope so," Vickery replied, nudging Brandy to step close enough to Blackwood's horse that he could offer his hand to his fellow Captain.

Blackwood leaned over a little to accept the offered hand. "Good luck," he said.