13 June; Spoils

From here.

The company had halted again, briefly, and Captain Alder spared the time to detach several men to attend the wounded hussar before resuming his pursuit of the fleeing enemy. While he would have liked to stay with the lads, McIntyre decided that the opportunity to help himself to the Frogs' discarded packs was too good to ignore. Bloody nice of the captain to include him amongst the six detailled to remain behind.

"Right," Corporal Hodge said, unfixing his bayonet and returning it to its scabbard. "You two get that trooper up, if he can stand. The rest of you..."

Grins were exchanged. Hodge hardly needed to finish that sentence. The two lads marked down to help the wounded hussar moved to do so, making only halfhearted grumbles about it. There was plenty of loot to go around. McIntyre slung his musket from his shoulder and knelt by the Frog the hussar had killed.

Just as long as Captain Alder or some other officer didn't come along to see them at this, this could turn out very profitable...

The rest of them.. were grinning like a bunch of felines that had just found their way to the storage room where cream was kept. Hollamby was among them, and was relieved not to have been told to keep watch of the Hussar. When the man standing right beside him was chosen, there was just a so much wider grin that graced his own face.

The French were on the run, and carelessly they discarted much of their possessions. Of course it would not do to leave them lying around where they could be lost to the elements, or even the locals. it would only be right if they made the sacrifice to gather them up.

Corporal Hodge had the good sense to let them go about that noble business too! Of course even their two companions that were made to stay with the Hussar would get their turn to rummage through the abandoned backpacks. It was only so much better having the right to first picks.

He hefted his musket up and then let it hang by it's sling, moving past McIntyre. He had his eyes on another backpack, just up further ahead. It looked pretty heavy when it hit the ground!

A few coins in one pocket and a little bag he'd investigate later. McIntyre didn't waste too much time on the dead Frog's clothes. It was the man's pack and breadbag that interested him most. He prised the sabre from the Frog's chest and used the tail of the poor beggar's coat to wipe the blade clean. The sabre was then set aside so he could roll the Frog over and unfasten the pack's straps.

"Anythin' worth havin' over yon?" He asked, glancing up toward the youngster Hollamby. The lad had found a prize of his own, it seemed.

"Aye. This one got some things." Hollamby pulled from the backpack a couple of nice looking plates and some cutlery that must have been taken from a richer house. "..Ah." There was also a nice bit of meat, still stuck to the bone, dried but looking inviting.

"Are you taking his pack?" It was well known that the French knapsacks were more comfortable than that of the British kind.

The oldster grinned. "Aye. Makin' sure there's nothin' in it that shouldn't be, first."

A greatcoat, tightly rolled. A lovely-looking wooden mug which he would keep. Something that smelled like... sausages. Beaming, McIntyre stuffed this paper-wrapped treasure directly into his own breadbag. It also looked like there was a bottle in the pack as well. No, two. They were carefully wrapped inside a shirt.

"There anythin' good over there?"

Samuel decided to take the knapsack and empty it somewhere where all its contents would not be rolled in dirt, or be damaged by the fall. Taking some of the cutlery, he held a few up for show." Might'a be silver." He looked tugged free a nice, clean, white shirt. Holding it open he debated on its size. Could be good. The fabric was folded back up and stuffed into his own pack. After that followed a bundle of papers. Love letters possibly, all in French. He shrugged and plopped that to the left of him. Next came sewing kit and this he checked. Not exactly something he'd hoped for, but it could come of use. A much nicer discovery was two small necklaces, sparkling in the light. "Should'a had meat stead of these."

Letters were useless!

He stuffed the two necklaces into his haversack, tucking them under two new plates he had acquired. And then he continued with the emptying of his little parcel of treasure.

That looked nice indeed. His prize had to be the better one, though. Anything that could be eaten was impossible to beat in his opinion. "Meat's ideal, sure," he agreed. The sausages now stowed in his breadbag would be served that same evening. Mister Cobb wouldn't ask questions about where they'd come from, either.

"Ahoay, Hollamby," McIntyre added, after discovering, to his private delight, a nearly-full pouch of tobacco in the Frog's breadbag. "Got anythin' worth tradin'?"

" Depends what tickles your fancy." Hollamby called with a laugh. "Got plenty of things. " And that other pack he had seen dropped further along the path might store more goods, if alas it would not be discovered by another of their fellow soldiers and taken as their own. He pulled out a nice small bag that contained a good few coins of mixed nationalities.

"A book?" Of all the things the Frog could have carried, he chose to take with him a book?! At the very least there was a small flask that promised to contain anything but water. Not a complete lost cause that one. That the very bottom contained some sort of dried meats, was another more pleasing discovery. But that was about it on the treasure front.

Book? His attention was immediately caught. "Give that'n here," McIntyre directed, looking up. He spotted a small pile of folded paper, which were probably letters. "Them letters, too."

"A'right." He had no use of either. Other than of course for the obvious. "Got anything to trade?" He asked. He stuffed some of the things into the pack, which he then moved closer to McIntyre. He still did not want someone to snatch something of what he'd found while he was showing of the book and paper.

"You can read?" Sure, he should have known the answer to that.

"Got this here." He held up the greatcoat. It was possible to offer the tobacco, of course, but his own stock was running low. "Aye, I was learned to by me officer, a long time ago."

Hollamby gave the greatcoat a good study before he decided he was quite satisfied with what he was seeing. "...Aye, fair trade." While the greatcoat could not be worn if the days were sunny and hot, it would be quite a nice addition for when it would be pouring cats and dogs, or if the nights might decide to go for the freezing cold.

"...May I inquire what you want those for?" He indicated the paper, which appeared to him rather worthless.

That was a trade managed easily enough, much to McIntyre's relief. He held the rolled greatcoat out.

"Do a fellow need a reason to want somethin' to read?" The oldster asked lightly.

"To read? With so many other things he could be doing. Like the lasses. Yeah." Samuel replied with a small laugh.

"Humour me, McIntyre. Come on?" He held the book and the letters out to the man, taking the greatcoat as the exchange.

Lasses. Right. He shook his head. "Got a wife, so I do. 'Sides. There ain't any lasses out here worth lookin' at." The book and papers were accepted with a grateful nod. "Readin's somethin' a lad forgets if he don't do it enough. Like drillin' or marchin'."

"So you can read and write both?" Samuel arched a brow. Of course a wife might put a stop to meeting other girls. There were some pretty ones, especially the locals. It was only hard to get to them, with their very protective lads and family.

He stashed the exchanged item into his knapsack. The French one he was torn about taking, using or exchanging for somehting else.

McIntyre nodded. "Aye." He tucked the letters into the book, then slid the bundle into his breadbag. They were probably in French but he could ask Mister Cobb for another lesson in the language later. Or he could simply hand the lot over to the lieutenant outright.

"Ain't a bad thing, havin' the learnin'."

"..Probably isn't." Samuel agreed. "How'd you learn then?" He pulled out two small boxes. Nicely ornamented, they each had a name inscribed on the side. Inside they were lined with what looked like silk. One was half full, while the other held only some traces of its treasure.

"Got anything else, good for exchange?"

"Had an officer that helped us lads learn," McIntyre answered, unbuckling the pack so it could be pulled off the dead Frog's back. He chuckled a curse when he realised there was a gash across the back of it, no doubt from the sabre-thrust that killed the man. Well, wasn't that something!

"Ah. Why?" Why would an officer bother? He could not find a good reason for it. He arched a brow at the chuckling, wondering what the man said, as it was somewhat too quiet for Samuel.

"What's so funny?" Thinking there was a joke he had missed.

Why? " 'Cause he was a good sort." And he'd been a Marine too. McIntyre held up the pack he had been intending to claim as his own, so Hollamby could see the damage.

"...Augh.." Samuel saw the unpleasant gash down the back of the pack. "..Can you cover this for a moment.. I'll check if.." He glanced past the plundering group of fellows and the direction he knew another small treasure to be. ".. I'll be right back. And we can have a bit of a solvin' on that one, maybe." He grinned. "A'right?"

"Nah, spare it. I'll do fine with this'n I already got." It would have been nice to change packs, but the one he was wearing wasn't so bad. "We'd best reform 'fore the cap'n comes back anyway."

"You sure?" Hollamby did not mind going ahead with it. He was still debating on whether he would keep his old pack or change it for the French one, so there was that option to trade with as well.

Of course the return of their captain would put a stop on their joyous occasion.

McIntyre nodded. "Aye. Ain't a bother." He rolled the dead Frog back over the way he'd found him and got to his feet. The two hussars had since gone, with the unwounded one taking charge of his mate's horse. Only McIntyre and his five comrades were left on the hillside. Captain Alder and the rest of the company would be back soon, though.

"Shame 'bout that fellow there," he remarked, nodding toward the splash of red sprawled on the ground some distance away. None of the lads had disturbed that body, by the look of it. Good thing.