13th June: Locusts and honey

Pye tensed. The officer would not dare! If he betrayed that they still had honey hidden, they could loose even that bit of plunder.

".....You wouldn't.." Pye whispered, his eyes narrowing briefly on the officer, and quickly after averting back in the direction of his captain. He was not looking at the man however. "Don't.. "

That sounded reasonable enough to him. "Very good, sir," he replied. Then, turning toward the Frenchman again, he prepared to ask for the man's parole. What the fellow was saying, however, struck him as unusual.

"I daresay the headwear of Riflemen is hardly your concern," Blackwood remarked coolly. "That aside. You have stated you gave your parole to these men. Will you give it again, sir, that it may be properly binding?"

Now that officer was a formal one!

The sous-lieutenant tried for a polite face:

"May I ask to whom I'll be giving it, Sir? Sirs?"

"To me."

Vickery narrowly avoided rolling his eyes, which would have been rather a faux pas.

"This is Captain Blackwood, of the Light Company of the Second Regiment of Foot Guards," he said. "And I am Captain Vickery of the Third Company, Fifth Battalion of the Sixtieth Rifles."

Edward inclined his head.

"Captain Torrington of the Corps of Royal Engineers."

He shot a glance at Blackwood. The answer had come so swiftly and impassively that it had been impossible for Edward to tell whether it had been meant in earnest or sarcastically.

Good, the guardsman was of the irritable sort! The rest not so much, apart from the fact that the rifleman seemed inclined to politeness and to sorting out the other man's gruffness.

"Sous-lieutenant Glenchevaux of the 86eme Régiment d'Infatrie de Ligne, formerly of the 1er de la Méditerranée."

He looked at the British officers curiously. Did they know what that meant? That he had been part of a penal regiment?

The 86th. Blackwood made a mental note of this and paid no mind to the rest of the lieutenant's reply. Where the fellow had been before now was none of his concern. It only mattered that he was here and had agreed to parole

"Very well, Lieutenant," he said flatly. "If there is nothing else, sir?"

He was keen to get the French officer somewhere more secure. Lingering here, even with his lads as guards and Riflemen as picquets, could only lead to more trouble.

"I have nothing further to add, Captain. Unless there is anything else requiring my attention here, I beg that you will excuse me. I have some further business to deal with." He looked at the two young Riflemen.

Pye gulped at those words and it appeared as if he had indeed grown somewhat smaller. If he could, he would probably have loved to disappear alltogether. But as that was not possible, looking alarmed and suddenly quite miserable, would do.

He glanced at Freddie then back at the Captain. He did not even dare ask where they would go, to receive their trashing.

"We are going back to camp," Vickery said. "Cotton, I believe Captain Blackwood's men can take over that duty now, thank you."

Right. They could get their prisoner back to camp and figure out what to do with him next once there.

"Very good, sir." Blackwood inclined his head by way of acknowledgment and glanced toward his sergeant. Poor Northcut, he thought, then said, "Carry on, Sergeant."

He would have to look in on Sergeant Burr when next he had a free moment. It was hardly fair to Northcut to shoulder all the burden. The little group of redcoats made ready to escort their French guest back toward the regiment's camp, hopefully this time without interruption.