29 May; Loose Ends

There was, he'd heard, possible pickings to be had a couple of regiments down along the column. Starling hoped this rumour was true, as he was hungry and, again, without anything substantial to eat. His mess had not so much as glanced at him that morning, which told him he wasn't to be welcomed at their fire now. Just as well. The smug bastards.

The husky Pioneer tramped wearily past fires and small clusters of men without really seeing them. Making eye contact with any man was to invite comment. Or so he thought. So he kept his gaze forward and skirted individual bivouacs when he had to. He had only one goal and that was to find the fellow who was said to have rations to spare and relieve him of them.

His journey eventually required speech, of course. Starling stopped by the next little campfire he came to and unceremoniously interrupted the conversation flowing cheerfully between the men sitting around the fire. "Where's the Ninth's bivouac at?"

The conversation ceased as the man interrupted. Looking up from his mess tin full of slop to look the man up and down Owen smiled as he saw the stature of the man and the rather large beard that seemed to fit snuggly on his face. The horses tied up behind the tent neighed as they grew restless this as well as the uniform was clear to all that they were the famous Hussars.
He held the slop tin in one hand as the rest of the troops turned to glance a look at the intruder.
"Yeah, the Ninth are further down the line mate they will be the ones trying on women's clothing and dancing round."
Producing a chorus of laughs from his comrades a smile grew on his face as the warm inviting presence of the fire cast a golden glow upon his face. The strong smell of porridge filled the air along with the warm atmosphere set forth by the fire.
Looking round at his men he couldn't say they looked amazingly smart considering their uniforms were mud splashed and has food stains on them. Nobody could blame them either because they hadn't been able to wash much and the time they did get free it was best to wind down and relax a little and have a good laugh with the lads and a drink, the uniform was only going to get muddy again.

The amusement shown by the other horsemen at this remark was not one Starling shared. He gazed steadily at the prancing dandy who'd spoken and briefly contemplated showing the boy what real humour looked like.

Instead, he shook his head slightly and said, "Reckon skirts an' petticoats'd look better on a man than the frills yer wearin'." Cavalrymen. Starling resisted the urge to spit what was left of his tobacco onto the ground by the boy's boots. They weren't any kind of soldiers, that was sure.

Danny raised an eyebrow as the man insulted them, stopping not only him but the other troops from chewing. Danny raised himself up from the stool he was sat on brushing crumbs and such from his uniform. His muscular build seemed to tighten as he tensed him muscle's with irritation.
" I think you'll fine that this uniform has contributed a lot more to this Army than your.... arrogance?"
He'd of welcomed the man to a drink or maybe something to eat but that comment was unnecessary towards them and he was asking for it. Danny tensed his jaw as he eyes the man up not breaking gaze. That look of death and anger filled his eyes as he locked them with the intruder's, the 5 o'clock shadow on his face gaining a glistening shine from the fire. The man may of been taller and bigger boned than himself but Danny was light on his feet and most certainly had the strength to match this man after all his day in day out physical training wasn't for nothing.
The atmosphere seemed to change rapidly from a friendly joking one to a hostile one and nobody spoke a word beside the two men so far but you could see the lad's getting ready incase anything turned rather pear shaped. He was waiting for the man to say something or at least try and pick a fight, which would be pretty annoying considering he had planned for a night keeping his nose clean for once.

Had it, now. Starling curled his lip. Since when had cavalrymen in any army gotten down off their horses to work like real soldiers did? He'd never seen a horseman anywhere when the rough work needed doing, oh no. This pipsqueak wouldn't last a day in a proper regiment.

"Never met a uniform that did any fightin'," Starling retorted. There had been precious little seen of the cavalry in their last scraps. The bulk of the fighting work had been done by the infantry. Lads like Starling. "Never did meet a horseman who was any sorta soldier anyway."

This was stupid. He'd find no spare rations here. Best to move on down the long stretch of campfires until he found the Ninth.

"Depends which uniform you've been looking at... here we've all played our game with death and we still do."
He looked the man up and down once more and smiled slightly to himself, maybe he wasn't so bad after all he admired a man that could give as could as he could get.
"You fancy a drink my friend?"
Holding out a tankard full of beer with the froth sat snug to the top of the beer it's self. The other troopers nodded at Danny in recognition for the sign of friendship and welcoming.
"Normally we don't stand for being called cowards or pansy like troops, if you ain't seen us fighting then you've been seeing the wrong type of troops mate. We're always the ones that get sent in first normally in the first bloody wave too. Then the pansy troops come in along with the cowards to kill any enemy injured we've left."
He other troopers nodded grimfully and muttered a few words in acknowledgement as they had all too much experience with this kind of warfare no wonder some people called it gentlemen's warfare but for them it was far from it.

"So then I saw the lass comin' and she was carryin' this bundle in her hands. First I thought it was a loaf of bread. F'course! But then suddenly it started all a wailing! You should've seen that man! He was sleepin' so soundly, propped on his knapsack and.. whoop.. he goes sprawlin' backwards couse he got woke by t' brat!" Kenley laughed, adjusting his pellise that hung loosely over his shoulder. It had begun to slip under its weight, having the string that connected it, press across the side of his neck. Well adjusted again though, it was soon unhooked altogether, just to be pulled over the boy's dolman.

It was getting colder, and an extra layer would hardly have hurt to wear. He grinned at Willoughby who shook his head. "You made that up, didn't you?" The lad frowned, which only lasted momentarily and shrugged. "..good call.. ..so.. how's your French woman been?."

Willoughby sighed and shook his head. "She is not mine, you know that." The talkative Hussar could hardly be stopped to inquire further. "Sure she is. She'd been all a'round you when we's got her saved from the Portuguese."

"Only because I know... the language." Willoughby looked ahead, seeing the troop of men, joined by a redcoat of a stronger constitution, and a rather rich, thick beard. "..That's true. How do you?" The boy inquired again, leading his horse by its reins, while Willoughby did the same with Herrero. The spotted horse need to be settled with the rest now that he had been brushed and had been fed and watered.

"...I just do.. I tole you. Now be useful, and see them horses to the rest. Eh?" He grinned at Kenley's frown ,as he protested. "Oi, ain't fair I get to do all..." But was interrupted by the young rider with: "I helped you with the saddle 'member." Which made the lad grumble good naturedly before taking the reins of the colorfully mismatched animal. "Fine, fine. "

Willoughby in turn approached the fire and sat himself where it was closest, glancing curiously at the new arrival.

The first ones sent in? Starling bristled. "Don't see any Light Bob wings on your shoulders," he snarled, his temper sparking. "First one off to any fight's the skirmishers. Me own lot. I piss on your drink, horse boy."

Only a second ago, he would have been willing enough to leave the matter at that. But the suggestion that the cavalry preceded the infantry into battle? Not a bleeding chance!

Danny ground the heel of his boot into the ground and tensed his jaw. His patience was really wearing thin now and especially with comments like that. He had tried to be polite and welcoming but no, this man was utterly determined to cause trouble and especially on the night he did not need it. Locking his eyes yet again with the man
"We have been the first into battle and the last out. Your unit ain't the only one to have had a few hard times. Least you lot get to bloody take cover behind things we don't we're sitting ducks."
He stepped into the mans personal space and squared up to him eye to eye. So his breath could be felt on the man's face. The beast behind his eyes seemed to be struggling to break free like when any man angered him.
" I respect any units ability in battle as we all dance with death as soon as we set off. They may send the skirmishers in first but you don't have to make the charge and see your brothers fall beside you never to rise again, we take no cover but just charge. Cavalry is always the first to get slotted you may think we are just a bunch of toff's and cowards but trust me when I say this the 15th Hussars ain't neither! I look around and I see my brothers in arms here, well the living ones anyway...
You want evidence of me fighting?"
With a short laugh he unbuttoned his shirt to show a nice neat scar on his right shoulder. Pointing also to the one on his face he had seen a fair amount of combat in his days but this was his only home were he could feel himself. He'd go home on leave and feel uncomfortable as if he couldn't speak with anyone or understand the civilian way of life and missed his mates whilst he was away. Fixing his shirt and tunic back to how it was he again locked his eyes with the man.
"I hate cowards and idiots the same as you. But we ain't no 'horse boys' we've earned our rights and none of us sat here have been born into them."
You could clearly tell as well the more upper class lad's compared to the more lower and working class ones just by the general manner of the man himself. It was rather amusing too how the front line of the cavalry charge was always made up of the lower class men and then it was more higher class as you got further back. Mind you most of the new comers that were upper class fancied leading the charge from the front but they either died or soon learned the survival rating went up the further back you went.
Danny acknowledged that the new trooper had sat down among them with a few friends. But didn't break eye contact with the man before him. Standing toe to toe with him didn't intimidate him because he was defending his regiments honor and that was something that deeply mattered to him.

Willoughby had not thought to inquire about the reason for their dispute or the rather unfriendly manner in which they had conducted themselves towards each other. But even without needing nor wanting to, he had heard the words said. Kenley tilted his head a bit to the side, observing quietly but with an interest of a pup who had only then noticed a rather colourful and large butterfly fly close to its nose. The lad was of a cheerful disposition, so he thought not to put much weight on either the redcoat's words, or that of a man of their own line. He still held both horses in place, though Herrero seemed irritated by the loud tone, and raised his head, pulling on the reins insistently. He thumped his front left hoof against the ground and flicked his tail giving the boy a near miss with that.

"Actually. " The young Hussar who was the owner the spotted horse heard himself saying. "..the first on the field.. and the last off it.. is what t' rifles say." A fond memory came to mind at that. The company of the green coats had been pleasant even if short lived.

Behind him Williamson leaned closer to Forbes whispering a bet, which the man grinned and accepted. Kerr, who'd been late in coming but dropped beside the pair was quickly drilled in as to what was happening, and an exchange of murmurs later, another bet must have been placed, the men gazing up, strangely rather amused.

Willoughby held his tongue at the rest, though he may have itched to speak again. Being nudged by Kerr he glanced at him. Williamson gestured to one man and then the other, a sort of silent means of communication. A simple.. one finger for one man, or two, for the other. It was clear what he was asking. With a roll of his eyes the hussar in question shook his head. "No one." He uttered quietly and raised his hand in mock attempt to smack the man who'd come up with the betting suggestion.

This horseman talked far too much. Starling tuned the boy out, and very nearly lost interest in the whole situation. His attention, however, returned when the drone of the boy's voice ceased.

"Finished, have you?" The Pioneer asked. He didn't wait for an answer and instead made a short, sharp jab forward with his big fist. This pathetic excuse for a cavalryman needed putting in his place.

There was a feminine shriek of alarm as the Frenchwoman jumped up from her place in the shadows not far from the fire. She cowered behind Willoughby, apparently fearing that the blows would fall on her next.

"Marie... est bien. Calmer." Willoughby turned away from the two men just in time to miss seeing Starling strike at Owen, and looked at the distraught French woman. He smiled comfortingly and nodded towards the place that was empty to his left, inviting her to sit down. "You are safe, Marie, madame. Only men brawling in their usual manner. " He said still in French willing to calm her.

"Here, you!" Billy Stubbins snarled, coming to his feet the instant he saw the big redcoat draw his arm back. This had gone beyond simple insults. Now it was a matter of honour. He didn't look to see how Owens had taken that punch, or even if the smaller trooper had even been struck. Stubbins had never tolerated this manner of fool and with a half-stifled curse leapt onto the towering redcoat's back, trying to get an arm around the man's neck.

Sharpe was doing the rounds of the camp. He was planning on taking some of his men out on patrol; Captain Vickery was off somewhere because he was a witness or something at a court-martial. Sharpe hadn't taken in half of what the young captain had said, because he'd been too busy realising that he was de facto duty officer for the Rifles in Vickery's absence.

He'd been to get a better edge put on his sword and was heading back to the Rifles' area of the encampment as he passed yet another fire. This one had a bunch of cavalry seated around it, and, oddly, a redcoat Pioneer.

There seemed to be a heated debate and one of the cavalrymen jumped the Pioneer, who was a brawny, muscular man. He stopped - no officr could ignore that.

"What th'hell's goin' on here?" he demanded, moving into the circle of firelight so that they could see him.

Danny turned his head so the punch caught him on his cheek sending him a few steps backwards. Taking in the new company he stood up straight and inhaled a deep breath to gain his balance back. Who the hell did this man think he was? Pffttt he had shown no respect or manners at all. He had in no way treated this man hostile and only intended to defend his regiments honour. He had intended not to fight this night and wanted to just relax with the lad's before they had to move around the next day and God knows what else. He had been told that they are going to be seeing some combat around here sooner or later. It had been a long arduous journey to this post and just couldn't be bothered to put up with swine like this one who was had just stroke a blow.

He turned to face the officer even though seeing one of his own launch himself on the back of this redcoat.
" Sir, In all honesty it was a heated argument that seem's to got a little out of control. It appears that this laddy' thinks his skirmishers better than us!"
He let out a small laugh to show the officer there was no harm meant by anything by what had gone on. He walked forward towards the wrestling men and placed a hand on the trooper's arm who had jumped onto the man's back.
" Leave it mate, If this lad fancy's a scrap there's a time and place for it. Not tonight... save your energy for the frogs, trust me you'll need it"

His punch landed true but another trooper had taken advantage of his distraction to leap onto Starling's back and hook an arm around the Pioneer's neck. Sneaking bastard! Starling grabbed hold of the trooper's arm and pulled down, looking to dislodge him by force.

The greenjacket officer's arrival put a stop to this momentary struggle. Starling listened with disgust as the trooper he'd punched offered another long-winded speech in answer to the grasshopper's query. Were all those words really necessary?

"Slighted the Lights' honour," was Starling's clipped reply. "Ain't knowed cavalry what was first on any field, like he's crowin'."

Could he dislodge this other idiot trooper without getting in trouble? Probably not. Hell with it. He'd do it anyway. With a quick shift of his shoulders and duck of his head, he managed to unsettle the trooper enough to grab hold of the man's other arm. In an instant, the trooper was on his back in the dirt, having been summarily dropped there.

Before the fight could have gone anywhere further the rifle's officer appeared, and very effectively ended it. It should have been better if Owens had kept his honesty where it was at. Telling the officer near exactly what happened, or close to, did not bode well. A simple: Nothing. Would have sufficed. He had been ignored by the lass, who appeared to still stand there and watch. A day as this was, most poorly executed, had the young Hussar feel more annoyed than he should have been.

He should have cared about his fellow being thrust on the ground in a swipe of the redcoat's hand, but found himself indifferent to it. He looked at the officer. When the man approached earlier to inquire, he had stood up, so the very action was not needed now.

With a curt nod he turned around, deciding that, after all, Kenley did not need to bring Herrero to the rest. He would do that himself. walking up to the boy he took the reins of his horse. He stroked the side of his face and then moved his hand lightly across the soft nose of the animal. "Easy." He murmured to the animal, who flicked his ears back to hear the men behind him. "..come." He murmured and turned to leave.

"Millin' ain't no way to settle a dispute," Sharpe pointed out. Of course, he'd never learn the truth of the matter. He noticed the way the Pioneer - he had to be a Pioneer, with that beard - dislodged the cavalryman clinging to his back, and ignored it.

So the trooper in question thought the cavalry were the first on the field, did they?

"I'd be careful wi' slightin' the Lights," Sharpe advised. "It's the toast of the 95th, to be the first on the field an' the last off it. Scoutin' ain't skirmishin', neither."