A Company Court-Martial

"I wos' a 33rd... Gabe. But we ain't all bad..." He was surprised how easily Cotton could have believed him to be a bad man. How quickly he had accepted that fact. He sighed. "...He's smart.. too smart. Best you 'void 'im...if yer can. Bes' we can hope he's found a different toy fer 'imself."

"No, I know. But I'd do anythin' for Maggie." The speed of his reaction and the vehemence of his accusation had taken even Cotton by surprise, and he wasn't sure how to apologise for it.

"Is only right. She's your lass. .. if anyone , who would, if not you." He murmured and rubbed his arm. He tried to brush it of as if it was nothing. "...I won't hurt 'er.. Gabe. ..I won't ever 'urt her ..or let 'er be hurt. Like i didn' let them 'hurt Joe n' Jenny... same. I promise, I won't."

"All right. I know that, Zack, an' I'm that sorry for it. I just thought for the minute that... well, I know you wouldn't." He felt awkward now and was glad that their fire wasn't far away.

Did he? Pye wanted to point that out to Cotton, but then reasoned that the man was probably right. What good could come from a street orphan and a former soldier of the 33rd. It was an easy mistake to make. "..we's there." He murmured with a faint smile. " Better we go n' rest soon now. If'.. we're meant to learn n' fight more tomorrow."

"Yeah." He caught Pye's shoulder again, a lot more gently than a moment ago, but no less firmly. "Zack, you'm a Rifleman now, not one of the 33rd. An' the sooner you show us you are, an' the sooner we see you are, the better for everyone, if you take me meanin'. An' I am sorry I thought the worst of you, even jus' for a little minute."

Pye flinched, even when the grip had been gentler. He was startled and confused at why Cotton would've done it the second time, till he spoke. He nodded and smiled ".....if you tell me how.. I will." He hesitated and then shook his head, waving his hand a bit.

"...is nothing new Gabe. I'm glad it was jus' for a little minute rather. That 'wos' nicer."

"It ain't jus' the stuff we do. It's... it's inside too, sort of." He wished he was a little cleverer with words. "We look out for each other, in the Rifles. An' there's more trust an'... well, we'm closer even than the redcoats."

He turned a little as someone nearby started singing Ich Hatt' Einen Kameraden, the plaintive notes soft in the twilight.

"I can't 'splain it, really. Ain't got the words," he said, and led Pye the few yards back to their fire.

He had looked out for Newbury that day. Perhaps it wasn't enough and Pye decided it probably wasn't. He nodded. Trust he did not earn. Not from Gabe not from most of the riflemen, at the moment. He'd lost it with his actions and although he still had not been able to regret those, he did regret the fact he had disappointed his friends, his camerades.

"When it comes... I'll probably know." He spoke instead and looked at the fire. "Thanks fer t' patience , any'ow." He smiled. "N' fer lettin' me in. Even considerin' all."

Cotton smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. "You'll do, mate. Ah, you'll do." He sat down in his old spot. "Reckon we got patience enough, 'tween us all, lad. Don't fret, all right? It'll come, in time."

"Don't got patience, me. But I guess you're right." Pye's smile brightened a little. "I'll have t' water ready in t' morn." He glanced at the kettle, which had been washed, after use and sat ready for another, when the men felt like it. "Good night, is it. Gabe?..Hope it's a quiet'un too." He grinned and carefully lay down, avoiding his cobbed bottom.

"You'll get there somehow, Zack. Hope we won't have any more scrapes afore you do get there, though." He turned to unstrap his blanket from the top of his pack, and shook it out before rolling himself up in it. "Aye, night. You have a good'un too, won't you?"

"Will." He smiled and yawned, pulling a blanket over himself. "G'night Gabe.." He murmured , sounding a lot more sleepy as before. ".. G'night , till t'morrow." And then, with those last words, the lad was asleep, curled up, with his breadback close to his heart, held protectively, but not squished. He knew he wouldn't move, so the chick was safe there, and could sleep through the night as well.