13th June: Locusts and honey

"I was accompanied by Freddie, sir." He shook his head wanting to just about say that all was swell with his shako when the sudden sharp movement tipped the shako fully of his head and with it, slid it's hidden cargo.

This all left the poor lad flustered, staring as the rabbit's lifeless body, lay part in the shako part on the ground, it's fluffy tail and backpaws touching the grass. He hurried to pick it up and while nudging the body with his foot, held out his shako - empty now - eagerly to Vickery, as if expecting the officer had not seen the body.

A rabbit. Vickery was surprised by the fact that he wasn't surprised. That would be something to add to Company orders as private business with regards to the internal administration of his Company's affairs.

"You were not on parade when you should have been, either of you," he said, looking from one to the other.

"We didn' know.. there'd be one t'day.. sir." Pye answered, stepping infront of the rabbit, although it was clear that Vickery had already seen it. But maybe as he had not mentioned it, it meant that it was ok to have it. And Cotton would know that this was the rabbit, caught with the snare. The very snare that he helped put up! Pye of course would not say or mention that.

Something had gone wrong in the chain of command somewhere, in that case.

"I will be speaking with your further. And you may proceed under the assumption that I will be mustering the Company every morning, is that clear?"

This was becoming something nearly comical, or it would if it was not so serious. Blackwood had lifted an eyebrow when the rabbit had appeared out of Rifleman Pye's shako. Now where, if the pair had been so busy assisting hussars and redcoats, had that come from?

There was more to this whole affair than was being expressed. Naturally. What soldier would ever be completely honest when he was discovered to have been up to no good?

"Yes, sir....every morning, Sir." He could only agree and confirm, but could do nothing else. Maybe captain Vickery would be satisfied with that. It would have been real nice if he was and the pair of them were not in so much trouble.

He decided to pick his rabbit up, once the heat was off of them, as well as the gazes of the officers, if that was possible!

The Angry Human's headthing came suddenly off, revealing... a rabbit. A freshly-killed rabbit at that. He knew by the smell. The two-legger had been hunting. The dog was not impressed. Hunting was his job. Who was this human...

Why did it matter if these two idiots hadn't known there'd be a mustering of the company? Though obviously neither of them really cared or they'd have been present. Even Mayden knew enough to not wander off somewhere simply because he felt like it. Not for the first time, he wished he was back with Mister Sharpe. Now there were some fellows who could be relied on.

He shook his head, only once but stiffly, and bit down on his tongue to keep from offering anything of his thoughts.

The Captain hadn't screamed at them! He hadn't ordered them arrested, either. Freddie honestly wondered whether he had missed something. Even when the rabbit had made its unfortunate appearance Captain Vickery had reacted not surprised at all.

Should ha ask for clarification? But then, this might just annoy the Captain. Uncertainly adjusting his own shako, which had become rather sticky, Freddie opted to remain silent and at something close to attention until the Captain clearly indicated that he should do otherwise.

"Right. We are going back to camp, and I will see you both, separately." Vickery had no intention of airing any of the Rifles' dirty laundry in public if he could avoid it. He turned to Blackwood. "Can I leave their prisoner in your charge, Captain?"

The calm of the captain somehow made the future meeting feel so much more frightening. It would be easy if he had yelled at them, but that he had kept his cool so well, they would hear it, and it would be bad. It looked promising perhaps that Captain Vickery chose not to scold them infront of the other ranks, as if that meant he did not want anything to be done with them as witnesses, it could also mean certain things would not happen.

This however could not mean that everything would be great either. Pye gulped nervously and nodded. He hoped that Freddie would have time to empty his shako safely.

He knelt as Vickery turned to the other officer and scooped the rabbit up, glancing at the dog that he did not like at all. The rabbit was stuffed into his breadbag, his shako held on that side so that the much fuller piece was concealed partly by it.

"Certainly," Blackwood replied. He glanced at the freckle-faced Rifleman and, his voice taking an edge, added, "The prize as well, sir?"

"I daresay that will find its way onto the officers' plates this evening." He gave a thin-lipped smile. The Riflemen weren't going to profit from their excursion if he could help.

Undoubtedly. A rabbit of that size would make a fine dinner, Blackwood thought.

"Very good, sir," he replied and nodded at Sergeant Northcut. When his men were formed and their prisoner taken charge of, the little detachment prepared to set off back toward their camp.

Pye wasn't deaf to miss where his rabbit was intended to be going. His happiness at acquiring the little beast, was now given the boot as none of them would have been able to lay hands on it. Neither he, Freddie, nor anybody but maybe Cotton, who would prepare it for the officers. It was not fair, of course. Not fair at all!

He sighed. It was all the fault of that blasted dog. If he had not brought all the officers and half the army after them, they would have nicely snuck back into camp. They could find an innocent enough excuse why they were where they were and their treasures would for certain have been placed out of view already.

Atleast the honey stuck, rather than went slippery. Though Freddie might need to wash his hair afterwards else have a very messy do.

Not quite what he had expected. He had hoped for a typical blustering English officer, but the officers present - three captains at that, and one of them in a very shiny uniform he though belonged to one of their guard regiments seemed all rather composed.

But perhaps he could stir up a little trouble anyway.

"I gave my parole to these two gentlemen!", the French sous-lieutenant enunciated clearly when the red-coated soldiers made ready to lead him away.

Edward studied Captain Vickery quietly. He didn't seem upset, angry or even confused, but had assumed a quiet authority. It was certainly the best picture to present in front of their new French guest, but what was the Captain really thinking? How did he intend to proceed once they were out of the prisoner's sight?

Intending to learn as much as he could from this incident, both in regard to the persons and to the procedures in his new surroundings, the engineer kept silent, his face stern, but his mind catalogued every inflection, every gesture of the other participants.

Freddie hadn't dared to take his eyes of Captain Vickery when he had spoken, but now that judgement day seemed to be postponed until they were back in camp, his eyes quickly darted over the rest of the assembled group.

The red uniforms had registered before, of course, because it was rather hard not to see them, but that the man in front of them was Captain Blackwood - someone Freddie did know only from afar and from some stories, but had and did appear to the young rifleman a very imposing figure - and the men behind him the guards was a rather disconcerting surprise. It would have been infinitely better if it had been the 50th, because at least they were involved in this adventure anyway. But no such luck.

The second, even more unwelcome discovery was that the man on the horse behind Captain Vickery was Captain Torrington. Freddie had somehow hoped that even if the captain of his company discovered his absence, he could keep it from his new master. In retrospective, this had of course been very naive. But the realization that an unpleasant interview with Captain Vickery wasn't the only thing he would have to endure still came as a very unpleasant surprise.

With a slight frown, Freddie suddenly remembered that there might still be a flogging in store for him, too, but that didn't seem that dreadful in comparison to the verbal dressings he was likely to get, and the chance of loosing his new positions again. At least he had already survived one flogging and knew how to go on after that.

A glance confirmed that Captain Torrington looked very stern indeed, as if he was disgusted by the whole affair. But of course sooner or later this had to be faced. Screwing up all his courage, he tentatively approached the engineer and offered, the squeak in his voice making it a shy question: "Sorry, milord?"

The officer looked at him for a long moment. Freddie felt as if his heart waited for his answer before it dared to beat again. But then Lord Torrington suddenly dismounted and threw the reins to Freddie.

"Hold him, Rottländer!", the captain ordered in a gruff voice, then turned to join the other officers. Freddie just beamed.

They were taking the Bad Human away. This was good. But the Bad Human didn't want to go - he made sudden buzzing noises and set his feet. This was not good.

The dog growled warningly at him. This two-legger had better behave himself.

Parole? This was new. Blackwood lifted a hand to prevent Sergeant Northcut's departure with the prisoner and turned with a lifted eyebrow toward Captain Vickery.

"Sir?"

Parole? That was an agreement between officers, not between officers and men - a private soldier couldn't give parole and nor could he, to Vickery's knowledge, accept an officer's parole either.

"Captain?" he responded, turning to Blackwood.

His expression was stiff and neutral. "Do you wish to take this officer's parole or shall I?"

Pye glanced between the two officers. It was true they took the Frenchman's parole, even if they were officially and properly not able to o so. But what he hoped for, was that the Frog would not know that, so that he would not try to escape and their return would be easier.

Of course now the French officer could be passed over to their captain. He thought it would only be right, but again a common private soldier, even if rifleman, could not voice such an opinion. "....The other Frogs... ran." He murmured quietly.

"If you are going to take charge of him, you may as well accept his parole," Vickery said in reply to Blackwood's question. It really didn't make all that much difference in the end, of course.

While the officers decided over his parole, the French sous-lieutenant made a slow step that brought him closer to Pye; of course the older rifleman still had him covered, so he tried to make it as natural and inconspicuous as possible. In a conversational tone, he asked:

"A shame about that rabbit, isn't it? Shakos are not as good a hiding place as they used to be."

With this, he flicked his eyes quickly to the one Freddie was still wearing.