Time for Tea, 11th June

"..He tells no lie." Pye took a fearful glimpse at the captain. He was a fool to be so open in admitting that accusation. But it was a true one. Even if he had wanted to lie - which would be hard to want with this captain - it would be Cotton who would have been believed over him.

"..I made them believe I deserted... so that I could more easily move about t' camp. I knew I couldn't do that if I was... was still wearing green." He hesitated, looking down again, his chick very pleased with the attention and clearly not paying attention to the anguish her master was feeling. "We were in haste, sir. Couse.. of our wounded. T' sooner we were t' go t' better. I... I took a gamble. But I didn' do it ter further m' position there. No! My mind was set on escape, n' that only."

Vickery nodded. "You told me, when you joined us, that you had been flogged once for deserting from the 33rd. I believe the majority of officers would begin to see a pattern in your behaviour there."

He held up a hand to still any protest Pye might make. "I told you, when you joined us, that you would have a clean slate here and that I judge a man by what I see him do, not by what other people tell me about him. That you are back here with us, in a green jacket, is what counts. That you helped the others escape and didn't just take your own chance, is to your advantage. You are very lucky that you weren't caught in French uniform by any of our picquets or officers, though. And don't push your luck and try it again should you end up in a similar situation."

Pye felt a downing sensation when Vickery began, and mentioned the black mark of his career. The one true desertion, that he had gotten caught for and then flogged. Was that it? Would the captain judge him by it? He was stunned and pale, and almost forgot to listen to what the man had to say further. He barely noticed that he was made to keep quiet rather than permitted a protest. So, Captain Vickery's mind was made?

But then, just as he felt he was beginning to feel faint and without air, had the captain turned it all upside down. "I hope not to get caught again sir." He spoke and then nodded abruptly. "Would not have thought different than to return, sir." Another man might reconsider that claim. The English flogged, the French did not. But it was his loyalty to the people that had any value, and these people were in this army. "Will I be judged on this though? I am prepared to stand it.. if you will order it, sir. I won't flee, neither and I will understand though my understandin' don't mean nothin'!"

His pride in wearing green might also have played a part. "Sir, "He grinned mischievously at that. "...T' French had ter look for their horses a'right. Long and far. Seems them beasts wanted to take a free stroll in the dark." He looked innocent as he observed his little chick claiming all the nice attention of his superior officer. He wondered if she would even want to return to a common soldier after that!

Vickery raised an eyebrow. "Am I to understand that you had a hand in arranging that the French would have to go looking for their horses?" he asked, his tone light. "About your jacket. I am afraid that you will have to be issued a new one, and the cost will unfortunately have to be deducted from your pay. The one you have now is a disgrace... although I don't believe that was entirely your fault."

"Sir. Ropes are often tied too loosely. Rather careless, those French." Though he did not openly admit to it, his grin told volumes of what his lips did not. "Terribly careless." His chick stirred, looked up and petcked at Vickery's fingers to remind him that she was still there. She got a look from Pye, but this seemed to not bother her at all, nor stop her in what she was doing.

He glanced down at his jacket or what has been patched times enough to scarcely resemble it, though it was a good concoction of green patches. "I understand. I'm sorry it got damaged , sir. Real sorry." He tugged at the fabric awkwardly. It looked dreadful. He frowned. Not even the 95th of Sharpe's rifles were as shaggy and run down. He took a few sips of his tea.

Vickery chuckled. "I daresay they are. Silly of them, letting you run loose around their camp, eh?" The chick pecked at his fingers and he shook his head, smiling as he rubbed the fluff on her head. "You're going to end up being a spoilt little thing, you are."

He picked up his mug of tea with his other hand. "I never meant you to get it into quite such a state when I said that it would match everyone else's before you knew it," he said, keeping his voice light so that Pye wouldn't think he was being reprimanded.

"'twas the worst decision in their life, that. Had they lissened to any of me fellow soldiers, they'd have me...." He paused , hesitated and peeked up at Vickery to see if he could make that jest, or if it was a bit much then smiled timidly. "Have me guarded, sure."

The chick settled down again comfortably. That was much better. The somewhat shinier dressed man was really nice, petting her that way. She'd need to somehow make sure her Pye would need to see him more often so that she could get spoiled like this. Though, did he also have any good food? She chirped tilting her head and looked at the man hopeful. It was hard, what with these men not understanding her at all!

The captain was teasing. It was a startling discovery, a very positive one too, but he was honest and truly teasing, saying something in jest. "Sir. I didn' want us betrayed ter t' enemy jus' couse my coat was so bright n' new." He dared joke as well, though was ready to withdraw the instant the other man gave a sign that he should be serious rather than lighthearted. "I'll know to be in less haste now. " He nodded with a warm, big smile. "Sir.. I'm.. grateful you let me enter t' rifles when you did. An'.. I'm sorry it didn't turn out without any problems, though... I tried t' make amends fer that." He wondered whom all the rifles that they retrieved, belonged to and if any of the men had recognised their own. He found his. And was glad of it too.

Vickery chuckled, pleased that Pye felt confident enough to be able to joke with him. He was settling down with the Rifles, it seemed.

"There is something else I need to discuss with you," he said, grinning at the chick. "You are aware, I hope, of the Rifles' method of skirmishing in pairs. As Cotton and Newbury form a pair and you have hopefully learned something of how we work, I would like to put you with another Rifleman to form another pair, should you feel confident enough in your skills as a Rifleman."

"I'll be put in a pair?" Pye sounded thrilled. It was more than getting a partner. It was Vickery's way of saying he trusted him. "Me? I'm ready sir, if you think I am ready, and if Cotton thinks I am. I'll do m' best ter be better though, no matter what is decided." He was wondering what Vickery was about. Last he knew there were some dead riflemen, but surely that did not mean he would take a place of one of those. Or maybe? With the Germans? He did not know them!

Vickery nodded, chuckling. "Yes. I believe you know that I can't split a pair up once formed, and that both Riflemen of a pair do work very closely together, so you have to be able to trust each other." The answer was positive, as he had hoped. "I don't know if you know, but we have had another Rifleman join us, a Rifleman Burke. I was thinking of putting you together, if neither of you has an objection of course. I will have to speak with him as well, mind."

He tried to recall the name to mind. Burke. Oh, was that not the lad that came from the 95th? He had not had a chance to interact with him much, but of what he heard and seen, he was not a bad character.

"I don't object, sir." He sounded excited instead. "Is he to stay with us permanently?" He did not know why he was transferred, but only that he was not originally with the 60th. His arrival happened before their return.

"I believe he will be with us from now on, yes," he replied. "I understand that you have reservations about being paired with one of our German Riflemen, and this seems to me to be the best solution, although I will have to speak with Burke, as I say, and it will depend on how you get along. If it doesn't work out, then we'll try something else, so don't worry about that."

He finished his tea and threw the dregs away. "I seem to remember that you had a lot of questions to ask, the last two or three times we have spoken. Is there anything you'd like to ask me now?"

He mistrusted the Germans and though it was unfair and poorly baised, the mistrust remained. There were good men among the Germans too, he had to admit, but those were partnered already and their partners were still alive.

"Shall we be met with more uh formally then sir. See if we do not clash with each other?" This was his first question, timidly asked, but convinced that if an order was given for him to do something, he'd do his best to do it. As long as Burke had no dogs.

"Sir, I do have a question. While.. we wos' at t' enemy's camp... I realised that'n... understandin' another language... it would have helped to know what those men were thinking, perhaps helped find other things o' value." He paused again. "...am I fool ter think it would've been good t' learn.. something?" He did not know how to read so learning that was probably out of the question beyond curses. Those he knew well already!

"Introduced?" Vickery asked, trying to clarify Pye's meaning. "I think so, yes. As I say, if you decide that you don't wish to be partners, it is your decision. I can only make a recommendation, I cannot make you get along if it turns out that you don't like each other. After all, skirmish partners have to be able to trust each other and to work together and even an officer's recommendation cannot make two people get on with each other."

He continued stroking the chick while he thought. "The Battalion of the Sixtieth that we serve in happens to be made up mostly of German soldiers. What you don't perhaps know is that in certain cases, I may have to read Regimental orders out in German as well as English. I would say that it would help if you could learn some German, although it isn't a necessity, which is another reason I would like to pair you with Rifleman Burke. I think that you will learn some German as a matter of course - both of you - as battlefield orders are given in German."

"I heard only good about that man, so I do not think I would have any further objection, sir. But, if he does, I will understand." He smiled hoping to have the formal introduction performed very soon. He glanced at his fingers, injured but healing well. He hoped those would not hinder him, nor affect the decision of that lad.

"We are to learn... German, sir?" He looked hesitant. Of course he knew that sometimes orders were given in that language, but he relied mostly on following Cotton or what other English were doing. IF he and Burke were together and the other lad did not know German, just as he, they would both need to learn it.

"How? When? How much?"

"I think you'll learn as you go along, Zachary. The bugle orders are the same as those in the 95th so Burke will know those - and I will put you into the line next to Cotton and Newbury, so you will still be able to follow them. You just won't be working with them in the same way."

He glanced at Pye's fingers as the lad flexed them. "How is your hand healing, by the way?" he asked.

"Wot' is this Burke like, sir. Do you... If I may ask. Do you know? Why's he transferred?"He hesitated at the next question.

"S' almost not a scratch on it left." Pye said bravely, dropping his hand back into his lap. It wasn't exactly true, but it was better than what he could have hoped for. So long as nobody decided to disturb it untill is was fully healed, it would do well. "I will be able to fire sir. I'll be fit for duty 'fore now."

"

"He seems a good lad, sensible, level-headed - everything a Rifleman should be. As for why he transferred, you'd be best asking him - it was a personal reason."

He raised an eyebrow. "Can you move your trigger finger yet?" He couldn't do anything about putting Pye in the firing line if he still couldn't use his hand, and he wasn't willing to risk the lad's injury not healing correctly by returning him to duty before he was fit enough.

"I will do so. When we firs' meet. 's he a rifleman long?.. A good shot, sir?" He nodded and then, at the question, frowned. He wanted to return to his duties sooner rather than later and felt restless any quite annoyed that his injury was so minor and yet so demanding that he could not serve, untill it was well.

"I think .." He bit his tongue and held his hand out for Vickery to see. He began to curl his finger even when he had felt the pain begin, and with it some resistance. "S' still supported....is what's gettin' in t' way."

"He's been a Rifleman for about two years, I think. Not as long as Cotton, but long enough to know his duties and how we work. I believe he was in the 27th before he became a Rifleman."

He nodded as Pye demonstrated the movement he had in his finger. "I think it will be another week before you will have enough movement in your finger. I don't want you to return to duty before you are fully fit, because then it may exacerbate the injury - make it worse," he added, suddenly aware that Pye might not know the meaning of the word he'd just used.

The other man was two years his senior what the service in the rifles was concerned. He was better learned in the ways of a rifleman. He would be safe with him and learn something useful too.

"Exac...." Thankfully Vickery had explained the word and saved the boy some embarrassment. Why did the smart, well to do folk, use such strange and unusual words when there could be so many simpler ones, used in their place. "..Sir. Will Burke not mind that he will have to stay, while I am to get better.. with barely the damned... pardon sir,.. finger?"

"I don't know. I think we will have to introduce you both, but at this stage, letting you rejoin the rest of the company will merely delay your hand's recovery." The lad seemed to be fine otherwise, of course. It was a shame, but Vickery was not going to risk making Pye's recovery time even longer by allowing him to rejoin the Company before his finger was fully healed.

"Yes, sir." He looked disappointed. "But.. may I return once the week has passed? I promise that I should take good care of my fingers and keep them safe even when I return."

He finished his tea, emptying what was left in it onto the floor. His chick hopped onto her feet, walked across Vickery's leg and stopped at the coat. She seemed to have admired herself in one of the buttons then chirped.

"Captain, sir. Is there any advice.. or question that you wish to give me.. now that.. .you've had me for a while. Yer telling me i can ask questions.. yet mebbe.. there's summat you want and I promise ter answer honestly."

"Certainly you may," Vickery replied. He pondered for a moment, looking down at the chick. "Listen to what the other Riflemen have to say. They have tips about skirmishing, setting up camp, all sorts of things. Don't be afraid to ask questions. Speak to the German Riflemen too - several of them speak good English, although not all of them do. Try to get on Cotton's good side again - you don't want to have bad blood in your mess if you can help it."

He looked across at the Rifleman and set his mug down. "I am pleased that you don't seem to be so... nervous around me. I want you to feel you can talk with me and share your concerns with me. If you can't talk to me, talk with your Sergeant, or the men in your mess."

"I will...an'..I'm glad you let us talk, n' don't think it' ill done if we do." He hesitated, thinking about Cotton and how upset the man was with him. It was one thing to speak with the captain - though much more frightening - but to regain that trust from a man, who had lived a few days in the belief that he had been betrayed. That would take much longer.

"Sir,....is he,.." He hesitated. "Is Cotton very upset about it?" He did feel the cold shoulder and the cold treatment, but he had hoped it might only be because the other man was tired, unhappy with some situation and that it was not all because of himself.