28 May; Outside the Tent

Newbury rubbed gingerly at his face. "Could say the same 'bout Master's younger son. Reckon not all lads can be decent sorts, though."

Maybe some day he'd get back to the Forest. Hopefully the militia would have stopped looking for him by the time this war was over.

"You was a footman 'fore listin', wasn't you?" He lay down again, gazing at the stars above them. "I still dunno why the Captain chose me for his batman when he could've chose you. I mean, I was only a farm labourer, me. Never waited at table in me life till I ended up his batman."

"Aye. Indoors an' runnin'. Runnin', more than not." Newbury let his hands slide down his face, wincing at the twinge of pain as his fingers brushed against his nose. "He didn't pick wrong though, did he? 'Sides of which, I was never close to anything like a valet."

"Valet, footman... you gets to be all sorts, doin' this." He grinned up at the sky. "Ain't anyone in my fam'ly ever bin an indoor servant afore, y'know. Nearest we got to that was me older brother, who was took on as a stable boy."

"Servantin' ain't so bad. I had my start as an under-gamekeeper 'fore movin' indoors. All three of us worked in the same great house, even."

"Y'know, there's one thing I'm curious 'bout." He rolled to his side, propping himself on his elbow. "D'you read, at all? 'Cause, well, you know I don't - only bin learnin' since we left Lisbon - an' the Captain still took me on."

Newbury shook his head slightly. "Nope. Master wouldn't have it. Thought we'd end up readin' his mail or some foolery like that."

"Oh." For some reason, Cotton had thought that all servants in grand houses could read. He wasn't sure if he felt better or not at the realisation that he'd been taken on when the Captain knew he couldn't. "Ever thought 'bour learnin' since? Though, have to say I hadn't, not till Maggie said 'bout learnin' me to."

"Nope. Readin' don't help set table or run messages." It seemed like such a useless skill for a servant, anyway.

"True 'nough." He changed the subject. "Ever thought 'bout what you'd like to do after all this fightin's over with?"

He had, many times. "Go back to the Forest, most likely. Probably can't ever take on as a footman again, but I could prob'ly find work down at the Hard."

It'd be nice to go home again and have somebody with him, but he doubted seriously that would ever happen.

"What 'bout you?"

He found a stem of grass and pulled it up. "Reckon the Captain might give you a character, if'n you axed him." He grinned. "He's the youngest son, ain't he? So when all this is over, he've got to set up his own house an' all. Wouldn't it be summat if he took us all with him, give us jobs in his house?"

"Wouldn't it, sure." Newbury wasn't sure he would really end up going to work for Captain Vickery as a master, even if it was possible. It would be somewhat awkward, to say the least.

Both of the riflemen were lying on the ground now and it was more difficult to listen to their conversation and the proceedings inside the tent at the same time. Jenny had to turn her head to give an ear to each side.

The surgeon, Mister Todd, was pacing around aimlessly and one of his ever-widening circles brought him close to the two Riflemen. Newbury sat up, preparatory to rising to his feet, but Todd bade him to remain where he was. Good enough.

This waiting was weighing on his nerves too. He scratched carefully at a crusted-over scrape on his head and looked around idly. There was somebody sitting nearer to the tent and Newbury spared them a glance. It was difficult to see in the dark, despite the lanterns by the tent flap, but that boy almost looked familiar. Couldn't be anybody he knew, though.

Then he looked again, glancing back a second time as a seed of suspicion nestled into his brain. Maybe he did know... yes. Yes indeed. He knew that 'boy', sure. Newbury grinned and flopped carelessly back down onto the ground. Things were already a touch more bearable.

Was he looking at her? Had he recognized her face, in this dark, and these clothes? No, apparently not. But she carefully turned her back again. Best not let anyone have that chance or they would be hauling her before the officers in no time. She knew that she could trust the riflemen's good intentions, but not perhaps their wisdom or their secrecy. After all, they had not been the ones caught stealing food, nor had they stabbed anyone with a bayonet.

She leaned in to the canvas a bit more. What was Pye mumbling about now?

Newbury was still grinning. He had thought she'd scarpered off some place safer, to some other regiment. It would have made sense, under the circumstance. But this was preferable to him, by far. His spirits were buoyed some more. Maybe there was some scrap of hope after all.

"Cap'n's from Hampshire, ain't he," Newbury asked, vaguely remembering hearing something to that effect before. He might not go to work for the man, but if he lived near enough to the Forest, it could be possible to visit. Or something.

Pye came from here )

Not quite sure if his testimony had been well done, if he had said things he should not have, or whether it was a failure, he left the tent to spot Newbury and Cotton not that far away. He sighed, rubbed his temples feeling tired. It took him a moment longer to gather himself before he let a smile be on his face. Subtle, calm. "..Ey, t' pair o' ye."

"Hullo," Newbury greeted, reluctantly distracted from thoughts of a cottage on the edge of the Forest. "Get ground the mill too?"

"Finished wit' t' questionin'.." Pye nodded. "There a spot left not taken?" He motioned towards them, asking whether he may sit rather than taking it. "Glad's over."

Newbury twitched his shoulders in a shrug and didn't trouble himself to move from where he was sprawled in the dirt.

"Plenty of earth to go around."

Pye flopped himself down on the ground, making himself rather comfortable even if it meant his trousers would need a brushing to. He pulled his legs up a bit, and looked at the two men. "Is t' surgeon's turn now. Think there's much they can learn fr'm dat'."

"He is," Cotton said, and looked up as Pye came over. "How'd it go, then?"

"Kept on askin' me silly questions. " The lad shrugged. "..don't know why's so 'ard ter get a provost what's 'es at.. but they easy accuse us of things." He smiled though, encouragingly. "But... Vickery did say, that we's to trust t' officers.. so there ye have it. It should be right in t' end."

"Hope so," Cotton replied, chewing on the stalk of grass. "Can never tell, though the Captain'll do his best. Can't help wishin' he'd had some proper trainin' in law, though" He shrugged. "Still, what's done is done."