Re: 3rd August, Room and Board

[Keiju]

"Shrapnel. That means it was artillery," Bright returned tartly. "Damned miracle it didn't get me, too."

[sans nom]

"Maybe it should have." His eyes were narrowed and he shook his head. "I still say you're lying. Did you see him hit?"

[Keiju]

Oh for God's sake. "Aye. I did. He was in the left file two lads ahead of me. Shell burst him and half a dozen lads ahead of him and around him. Cut one poor sod clean it half, that did. Swept the rest down like fresh hay."

[Paol Kerjean]

Whatever Paol had been about to say died on his lips, and he was vaguely aware of the abrupt presence of the wall as he sagged against it. Each word felt like a physical blow. He could see it; though whether it was a memory or simply Bright's description animated by experience he couldn't have said and it hardly mattered.

"The Medellin?" he heard his own voice asking.

[Keiju]

"Aye. The second try at it."

[Paol Kerjean]

Paol nodded, closing his eyes. The Medellin. He remembered that. Though his memories were a chaotic jumble with none of Bright's clarity. He remembered something else as well: the fires had started on the Medellin. Which should not have mattered if what Bright said was true -- and he did not doubt that it was -- but somehow it did, terribly.

[sans nom]

"Maybe he just got knocked down," Charcot said, though now with less conviction. "I got knocked down and probably left for dead," (if anyone had even noticed his fall) "and I came through all right." More or less. Apart from being blind and, for a while, deaf.

[Keiju]

What a simpleton Charcot was.

"Oh aye, sure, and all the blood on him wasn't real either." Bright slung himself onto the second bed and carefully folded his left arm over his chest. "Face it, you two saps. The poor sod's a casualty. It was a battle. Casualties happen."

[sans nom]

Under ordinary circumstances, Charcot would have struck Bright and knocked him to the floor. He would have liked to hit his face again and again and again. But being blind, he simply spat "Go **** yourself!"

[Paol Kerjean]

Paol pushed sharply away from the wall. "That's enough. Both of you." The words were more reflex than anything else, but at the moment it was all he had. Things were bad enough; if they started fighting, they didn't have a chance.

[Keiju]

Later, he would regret it, but at that moment, all Bright could do was chuckle. "Lord above but you two are like women about this."

[Paol Kerjean]

There was a slight pause, then Paol walked to the foot of the bed, stooped and, catching hold of it off center, neatly flipped it on its side. "I said," he repeated, "That's enough."

[sans nom]

Charcot had been about to launch himself at the direction of Bright's voice, hoping to do whatever damage he could, but he was stunned by the noise of whatever it was Paol had done. He hoped it had involved injuring Bright.

[Keiju]

"What in the bloody hell?" Bright exclaimed, not realising at that moment he had cried out in English. It was much too important to untangle himself from the now-overturned bed. Ideally without making his wound any worse.

[sans nom]

Charcot heard the sound of feet on the stairs. "Maybe that's the guard. Let's tell 'em your an English deserter."

[Paol Kerjean]

Paol let out a heartfelt curse, moving quickly to the door. He'd done it now. Jesus. "You'll say nothing," he told Charcot.

[Keiju]

"Bastard," Bright muttered under his breath as he managed to extricate himself from the tangle of mattress and bed linen. That had been a thorough over-reaction on Kerjean's part. After all, nothing Bright had said thus far had been anything other than truth.

[outis]

Mittestaedt had none of Kaufmann's compunction regarding doors and drove his shoulder directly against it. He'd been expecting resistance and the lack of it sent the door slamming open, leaving Mittelstaedt face to face with the big Frenchman.

"What the hell's going on?" he demanded, for all the good it would do, thrusting the man back with the tip of his bayonet.

[sans nom]

In obedience to Kerjean, Charcot said nothing, but simply crossed his arms and sat back on the bed with a scowl.

[outis]

Mittelstaedt's gaze swept the room, resting on the overturned bed and its erstwhile occupant. What the hell? If this was an escape attempt, it was a damned poor one. "They turned over one of the beds," he shouted down the stairs to Kaufmann. But there had been more than one noise which had aroused suspicion. Mittelstaedt knew little enough English, but he did know how to swear with relative competency. "Englisch?" he demanded, peering intently at each of them.

[sans nom]

"Then never mind and leave them be," Kaufmann yelled back, intent on finishing his dinner.

[Keiju]

The most important thing right then was to keep this grasshopper from seeing his back, even though it was mostly covered by his waistcoat.

"Piss off," Bright replied in French, all too aware of what the Rfileman's suspicion was. Had he given himself away with his own carelessness?

[outis]

Mittelstaedt's lip curled and he looked pointedly at the man on the floor. Had that been the voice he'd heard? It sounded a bit like it. Neither of the others had said a word, but he'd seen a flicker of something very like fear in the tall one's face at his last question.

He took a step back. "Kaufmann? You want to come up here for a minute? Like...now?" he added seeing the way the tall Frog had started to look at him.

[sans nom]

Hearing the urgency in Mittelstaedt's voice, Kaufmann came rushing up the stairs. "What?"

[outis]

"There's something going on," he replied, not taking his eyes from the tall prisoner. "And I think one of them is English." Part of him suspected the mouthy bastard on the floor, but the big one with the bandaged arm had been suspiciously quiet, and as far as Mittelstaedt was concerned, he'd been trouble from the beginning – which seemed perfectly consistent with a bastard deserter.

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