6th July, later evening; A business call

This was not a visit which was likely to go well, but in the circumstances, Alexander Cobb was not of a mind to be concerned about whom he might offend. He had spent most of the day alternately fretting and raging, incensed to his core at the grievous crime that occurred. It was something that needed prompt rectifying, though Cobb had delayed this errand in order to visit his stricken batman in the surgeon's train.

With that errand now being completed, the lieutenant was on his way at a brisk, determined pace to the Rifles' bivouac. The last time he'd been near the greenjackets, the mood and purpose of his visit had been a world apart from what those same things were now. Of course, had he paused in his own regiment's camp long enough, he would have secured the support of Major Gormley, the adjutant, but Cobb's natural impatience was too finely stoked to permit such a delay.

"Where is your captain?" Cobb demanded of the first Rifleman he encountered, only just able to keep his tone civil - or at least marginally so.

"What?" Tom Roper blinked at the demand before realising it was an officer who had made it, and scrambled to his feet from beside the fire he'd just lit, and saluted. "Um. He's in his tent, sir. D'you want me to go an' tell him you're askin' after him, sir?"

"Lieutenant Cobb," said Cobb curtly. "Of the Thirty-third."

"Yessir," Roper said, and hurried over to the officer's tent. He scratched on the canvas and disappeared inside, only to re-emerge a moment later and come back to where the Lieutenant was.

"Says, would you come inside, sir?" he reported, standing to attention - the redcoat did not look at all happy and he had no wish to make things any worse.

About time, though it had not really taken long at all for the message of his arrival to be delivered. Cobb strode straight into the tent and made a perfunctory salute.

"Which of your lads did it?" He asked without preamble.

Vickery stood as Mister Cobb burst in. He had had a little warning from Roper that the Lieutenant was not best pleased - as he himself would not be, were their positions reversed. "I do not know for sure, although I have a very strong suspicion," he replied, thinking that it would be strange indeed if the perpetrator had remained with the Army rather than deserting. Especially given that even attempted murder was a serious offence, with the death penalty if proven.

"How is your man doing?" he added, concerned.

'A very strong suspicion' was not the answer Cobb was after. His hands balled unconsciously into fists but he made no effort to will them open again.

"I would suggest, sir, that perhaps you might find out," the lieutenant said, his voice more a growl than not. He'd be damned before he offered up any information about his unfortunate batman, however. Not to this fellow!

"Have a care, sir, how you address a superior," Vickery replied with a hint of steel. "I have taken steps to apprehend the man in question and once he is in custody, will see him brought to justice."

He was almost certain, in fact, that the guilty party was Kirridge, despite asserting that it was only a strong suspicion.

"I need not remind you that in the eyes of the law, a man is innocent until proven guilty," he added. "Especially as a guilty verdict in this case will mean the noose."

He was very definite on that last part.

Have a care? Have a care? Cobb's jaw clenched and he fought back a sharp retort. Not that what did come out could truly be called 'moderate'.

"Dare I ask who you consider to be 'the man in question'?" He was not about to trust any dedicated search for the guilty party to this officer, but instead would employ his Pioneers in that task. His and likely several lads from Captain Finismore's company, out of the Fifth. This was, after all, chiefly a redcoat business.

"I should prefer a firing squad over the noose," Cobb added frostily. "Sir." Or better still, a summary execution, well away from the eyes of the army. The law be damned.

"What sentence is handed down will be for a general court martial to decide," Vickery stated, his words clipped. He had no doubt that it would be a sentence of death, and no doubt that despite his personal feelings in the matter, he would have to do his duty as the man's Company commander and defend the man. That knowledge did not help his present situation, of course.

"I can assure you that he will face a court martial. I find this whole affair as deplorable as you do, and I could wish that he was not in my Company. However, the fact remains that he is."

If the man had indeed deserted, then it would be the firing squad at some point in the future if Kirridge should be unlucky enough to be caught.

Oh of course he found this business as deplorable as Cobb. What a bland, stock response! As to a court martial - that was only perfect rubbish. When his lads ran this renegade grasshopper to ground, there would be no need for a trial.

"So the broad search for this rogue is being undertaken now?" The question burned in his throat, for he was convinced he already knew the answer - the answer being no.

Vickery sighed. "Your man was attacked an hour or more before he was discovered, as far I could make out. I very much doubt that the attacker, whoever he was, has remained with the Division to be found and brought to justice. The picquets, both inlying and outlying, have been notified, and there are patrols out scouting the area in the hopes of finding him. More patrols than would usually be sent out in an area such as this, too."

He failed to see what else could be done, but he would be very surprised if the Lieutenant were content with the efforts being made.

"What I should like to know is whether they are looking for a murderer, or an attempted murderer." In other words, was McIntyre dead or alive? He had come to admire the man, in the very few days that he'd known him, and would be saddened to hear of his passing.

He looked frankly at the subaltern. "I understand your feelings on the matter, and I would feel the same were I in your position. I do not want this assault to go unpunished any more than you do."

It was a reasonable enough response, for the army, but Cobb was in no frame of mind to accept the merely reasonable.

"A murderer?" He could not stop the query slipping out. What in the hell was the man on about? To his knowledge, McIntyre had not died - nor would he, damn it!

"If your man dies of his wounds - and I do not know exactly how badly he was injured - then the man we are looking for is a murderer," Vickery said. His anger was still there, but it was no longer directed towards the man in front of him.

Cobb's hands clenched. "Either way, I should expect particular effort is being made to run such a scoundrel to ground."

There was, of course, no telling how the colonel would decide, but Cobb was determined to do all he could with his own resources to effect something for justice.

"As I have said, we have doubled the patrols sent out, and all the picquets have been notified," Vickery repeated, and turned to his canteen so he could pour a large measure of brandy which he offered to the Lieutenant. He had no idea how effective such measures would be, with the head start that Kirridge had - for surely he would have run as soon as McIntyre had succumbed to the attack?

It was dark, too, which was not going to help the searchers much.

Brandy. For a moment, Cobb was prepared to refuse the offer, but maybe a stiff drink would be just the thing. He nodded, jerkily, as he accepted the mug and drained its contents in two long swallows.

"Yes, of course," he grunted, grudgingly relishing the fire in his throat as the brandy went down. "If indeed the beggar has run."