Going to fetch the sweethearts

(Has checked on Sevier in previous post)

And then Pye got up and made to go off somewhere. Cotton grabbed his arm. "Where're you off to now?" he asked, still wary in case the boy was planning on giving them away. Though, if he'd been planning on doing that, he would probably already have done it. Cotton was in no mood to be thinking logically about things, though.

"...Goin' ter fetch my knapsack. I tole you 'fore." Pye paused and looked at Cotton. There had been alarm in his eyes a moment ago, now replaced by calm and even confidence. "..You can come with me if yer want. An'...help me with summat."

"Your knapsack... All right." Cotton released Pye's arm and stepped back, nearly tripping over someone's legs as he did so. "I'm keepin' my eye on you. Don't trust you, not after you went an' put that on." He indicated Pye's French uniform, uncaring that the motion probably couldn't be seen in the dark.

"..I didn' put it on couse i wanted ter be Frog." Pye muttered back and rubbed his arm. "Come along then. Jus' 'round t' boulder. N' don't trip on Sewer there." He indicated the boy lying unconscious on the floor. "..He helped me brin' em."

Without saying much else he stepped forward to lead the way towards a pile of branch, prickly bush, leaf and not so much dirt. The second lump further ahead of them appeared to have that cow hide leather the French made their more comfortable knapsacks from.

"Well, it damn seemed that way to me. Now, what is it we'm fetchin'?"

Cotton was getting jumpy; he wanted to get as far away from the Fogs as he possibly could. No good would come of them hanging around the camp - he was sure it was beginning to get light, and that was bad news for them. Daylight would just make things so much harder for them to hide and easier for the French to find them.

"The girls." Pye answered simply. He felt along the ground, nearing a larger and smaller pile. This seemed to be what he was looking for and his final destination. "I'm 'fraid they won't be of much use now." He murmured quietly.

"What?" Cotton couldn't believe he was hearing things properly.

Not only was it getting dangerously late - or early - to be making their escape attempt, but they would be dragging along a gaggle of girls - and with no weapons to defend them if anything went wrong?

Had Pye gone mad?!

"You'll help me carry, won't you?" Pye said, glancing at Cotton. "I 'burried''em 'round here." Burying them was a strong word. They were in truth just covered up by leaf and branch. Completely still, not to alert anyone of their presence.

He knelt by the the first mess of bush and bramble. "Come 'ere an lend me yer arm, will ya."

"Have you completely lost your marbles?" Cotton hissed at Pye, as the younger man started scrabbling at the ground. He rolled his eyes; of course Pye had gone mad. It was the only way to explain this whole night.

He heaved a sigh and knelt next to Pye. "All right, I'll humour you. But we have got to get movin' before the sun comes up - 'cause even they Frogs'll be able to follow us if we ain't well away from here soon."

"A'right then. Here." Pye said and pushed something long into Cotton''s hands. It was heavier on one side and a distinct shape the would have been well known to any soldier. "Dunno whose is which sweet'eart.. but ..I managed ter get these." He said sounding awkward,.. timid and proud. "Got a couple more." He pushed the leaf,thrown and bush away from his hidden stash. "We need ter take 'em with us an' then we're done."

Something was pushed into his hands. Something that Cotton recognised just by the feel of it, the weight, the size, the shape.

His mouth fell open in astonishment. "How...?" He turned the rifle over in his hands. "Bloody hell!" It was damp, of course, it wasn't his, but it was a rifle.

He felt like a rifleman again.

"T' French boy helped.. a bit." He thought back and smiled. That very boy that one everybody seemed to trip over. Perhaps the location he had left him was not the best. Sure he would be found, but for what price. "...not of his own will but'um... he did not know." Pye paused and he uncovered the other rifles. "Will you help me get these to the others? Then?.. I dun' have anything to fire from them...m' sorry." He was not about to say he had no balls.

There wouldn't be any ammunition, of course, and nor would there be sword-bayonets. But even with an empty rifle, Cotton felt much more at ease.

"How many are there?" he asked, putting his arm through the sling of the rifle he was holding and letting its familiar weight hang from his shoulder.

"I don't know." Pye admitted. "I jus' took all there was...didn' count them." He looked apologetic. "We need ter get them ter t' others Gabe...an' then run 'fore t' French notice we've been gone. When we're safe distance then... then we can count 'em n' see wot's else's missin'," Well he had not lied. The girls were waiting for them. Only these were not real , human women. They were rifles.

"We ain't runnin' very far with this little lot," Cotton said dryly. "I ain't runnin' in the dark anyhow - even if you are. Go muddlin' about like a whole herd of cattle? Best way for the Frogs to find us, that. Pass 'em over."

He wondered if his own rifle were among this haul somewhere. It would be bliss if she was.

"Pass us?... not unless we're far enough that they don't make good narrow sweeps with their men." He handed some of the rifles to Cotton while others were hung over his own shoulder.

" We are not out o' t' woods yet.. Gabe. Not here."

Cotton took the rifles Pye passed him. He wasn't sure how many there were and knew that counting them would only slow the pair of them down.

"I still dunno that I trust you, not after puttin' that filthy thing on," he growled. "I'd've killed you if I'd had the chance, you know."

He slung the rifles from his shoulder, hoping that they wouldn't make too much of a noise with his movements.

"I put it on couse i knew that was t' surest way ter get you out."He would have made a joke that it was als warmer because his own coat was in tatters, but though that humour would be lost on Cotton at that time.

"Do you still want t' kill me?" After his knapsack he had secured the final rifles to his shoulder and got up.

"Ask me that later, I dunno right now." Cotton shrugged, as much as he could with four rifles - he thought it was four rifles anyway, it could have been five - slung on one shoulder.

"Will then." Pye answered and straightened up. "Well.. we're done 'ere. Lets rejoin t' others." With nothing more to say than that, he began to turn, but then stopped after one step, turning to look at Cotton again."...Gabe...I still have m' chick....can I beg of you, no matter what you do to me, to...take care of it, and let it live and...and grow, unharmed?" He hesitated again. "Please?.."

"I ain't goin' to hurt a defenceless animal, Pye," Cotton replied, unbending enough to use the boy's name, though not unbending quite enough to employ his Christian name. "I'll look after her for you - or Maggie will." If us get out o' here in one piece, anyhow, he added, though he kept the thought to himself.

"Thank'ee." Zachary said, genuinely grateful. Seemed that even if he might be dead, the chick could still prosper. Good. He glanced at Cotton, and then with a nod turned the corner that separated them from the group. What he had said last, before that though was:" take care o' t' rifles now. They'll start feelin' heavy." Which was saying something which was common sense and might still be solved by having the other riflemen carry some of the load themselves. Might be unable to fire at this point, but they could still carry.

"Captain's goin' to be mad when he learns about all what you done. Though helpin' us out it might help you, o' course - he's fair like that."

Captain Vickery had fancy words for describing circumstances that meant you had to do something you wouldn't normally do, too. Captain Vickery had a lot of fancy words, of course, being an officer and a gentleman.

"Here - we need to get goin' just as quick as we can, afore them Frogs come lookin' for us."

"..I didn' have it doon with actually meanin' it. I mean..I did wear t' different coat but m' mind didn't. S' summat I learned 'fore. It's risky but if yer play yer cards right,...yer get ter a point where it's easy run, like now." He hesitated and looked sad when Vickery was mentioned. He'd heard he was possibly dead. He still did not want to believe it, and possibly there were many who did not. And being reminded that he would have been enraged made his smile disappear and have him feel miserable. It was clear he would not have wanted to disappoint Mister Vickery again.

It was enough to have him remain quiet, nod faintly and begin the walk around the boulder to meet with the other men. His knapsack rode easy on his shoulders, its contents a mixture of his rare old things and what he had been given anew in the French lines. The rifles were kept on the side which did not have injured fingers. He walked quicker knowing the importance of moving off. Hopefully the new man knew where they should be going. He didn't exactly. He could have guessed, but would not have known for sure.