Training Day - Rifle Competition

Hagman fellt almost a bit sorry for the lad. Not that he would let him win a shot on purpose though, as pitty was the last the boy needed now. He knew no words in the world could now give him encouragement and thus he just nodded to him silently, slightly smiling. Carty was quite young after all, he sure would have still a future ahead of him, especially considering his result in the skirmishing and his nerves to join such competitions at all. There were older and far more experienced men who's nerves would get the better of them in such a situation.
He would make sure the lad would be getting some decent drink tonight, letting him know that he was one of the them after all. But putting these thoughts aside for a while, he made his way over to the firing line again. This time he was quite relaxed during the loading process, though when it came to aiming again, he put everything he had into it - just as he always did. He held his breath, pulled the trigger and fired.

Harris held his breath, willing Hagman's shot to be less good than the others, for Carty to find just that extra ounce of steadiness - the steadiness he showed in battle. He glared at the older man's rifle, as if he could make the ball veer as it came out...

Carty tried to feel happy that he had at least not missed the target - a redcoat excuse, he thought with disgust. He did not look over at the rest of the 95th, in case he saw their disappointed faces looking back at him, but sat cross-legged again, stretching to reload, aimed with a prayer and fired...

In spite of having been snubbed by him, Jenny couldn't help hoping that Carty would redeem himself with this last shot. She bit her lip in nervous expectation of the result.

Vereker had kept his eyes on both riflemen as they had fired, wondering slightly at the boy's sitting down - that would never be an option with line infantry. At the targets he hesitated, both were very close to the centre, Hagman's again overlapping the frayed edges of the earlier shots, and Carty's his closest yet. In the end he used the edge of a sheet of paper and walked back, calling out. "And the final shot was a dead heat. Congratulations, both of you. Such fine shots, our riflemen."

Carty sighed in relief that he had not entirely humiliated himself, and whispered a prayer of thanks to the Blessed Virgin. He tried to smile at Hagman, and shyly turned to face the watching 95th.

In spite of her disguise, Jenny let out a rather feminine cry. "Well done, Mícheál!" But next to her, Maggie also was cheering, and any heads turning that way would probably assume it was the woman who had called out.

Perkins too applauded his friend - both of his friends, older and younger - but he was especially glad for Carty to have made such a good end. "Good on yeh, Mícheál!"

Jaeger released the breath he'd been holding. Well done for the young one to keep his head to the end. But mostly he was proud that their Cotton had outshot the winning marksman in Lisbon.
He went to the competitors to congatulate the winner and offer a few encouraging words to the younger rifleman.

Vereker reached the two men, and held out his hand to Hagman. "Congratulations, Rifleman. I look forward to seeing you matched against the winner of the next competition." He then turned to Carty. "That was in fact far closer than the result suggests. All your shots were in the centre ring - well, you'll be able to see for yourself. A very good show, both of you." He smiled. "You don't see marksmanship like that every day. Thank you."

Hagman hadn't realised that he was holding his breath at the boy's shot until he let it out in relief at hearing the Major declare a dead heat for this final shot. He knew the lad had it in him!
After recieving the Major's and Lt. Jaeger's congratulations, he turned to Carty, who was looking at everybody in shy relief. Dan extended a hand towards him. "Well done, lad. Thanks for the competition. You're a fine shot!".

Closer - closer was more close. In the centre... Carty bowed his head. "Thank you, sir," he said quietly.

As the Major turned away, Hagman spoke to him; Carty gripped his hand with a smile. "Thank you, Dan. Very good, shooting very very good."

Hagman took Carty's smile to be a genuine one and clapped the boy on the shoulder. "Ya'll make it best shot one day, I'm sure. But I hope I'll be already dead and done away with then." He wasn't sure if the boy understood everything he said, but he hoped that he'd take his smile for what it was: heartfelt. "And now we'll see how the others'll fare. I doubt they'll be a match for us" he added with a sly wink, to keep the spirits high.

Harris eased himself out of the crowd, to put a hand on Carty's shoulder. "Well done," he said. "I mean it - you kept your head, and kept firing good shooting. The Major's right, even if he does wear a red coat - it was damned fine shooting from both of you." He turned to look at the other man. "You're still the best, Dan. I have little hope of beating Gabe Cotton, so it will be down to you to win for the good name of Sharpe's 95th."

[OOC: The Cotton/Harris competition will in Game terms follow on in a few minutes, although it might be delayed until tomorrow in real time. Please bear that in mind..]

He turned to Harris. "Thanks, mate." He had to give it to Cotton, he was a damn fine shot. But Harris wasn't a Chosen Man for nothing. "Ya'll be fine an' I wouldn't mind competing with ya in the final".

(OOC: I just wondered, will it really be the next day, Cotton and Harris competing? In-game I mean... *is confused*)

Carty had looked behind him, where he was sure he had heard girls calling his name. That couldn't be right, he though with a self-deprecating ghost of his normal smile. "Thank you, thank you," he said to Hagman and Harris, relieved beyond telling that he could see no hint of disappointment in his teacher's face.

"Oh well done, Mícheál," Perkins cried, slapping his friend on the shoulder. "And you too of course, Dan, great! You done us all proud, both of you. Them redcoats with their muskets, they're right impressed. I bet some of 'em are even getting jealous now." He gave Carty a conspiratorial grin.

"Aww, bless Mícheál," Maggie said to Jenny when the clapping had died down. "I'm glad they were even at the end. He's a sweet boy."

"I know, that was a relief!"

Maggie darted a quick look at her friend. "You should go over and congratulate him."

"What, dressed like this?" Jenny laughed doubtfully.

"Why not? Maybe a woman can't very well go and interrupt their manly group there, but a bugle boy can." Maggie gave her a mischievous grin and a shove.

"No."

"Well, maybe later, when you've changed clothes."

Jenny shrugged and then slipped away into the crowd, leaving Maggie puzzled.


[Jenny goes here]

He went across to the small knot of 95th gathered around Carty. He hoped they wouldn't mind his butting, in, but he had to congratulate the lad on being such a fine shot, even if he hadn't won it.

"Well done, Carty - Mícheál, lad. Your Dan's a terr'ble good shot, but you did really well. There ain't no shame in comin' second to him, and you're a fine shot." He grinned, and clapped the lad on the back. "Your Mister Sharpe'll make you a Chosen Man in no time, if you keep that up, I'm sure of it."

Harris met Cotton's eyes. "I've got him marked down for higher than that. A very good lad, and the officers will notice him, once he has a firmer grasp of English. But for now, you don't need English to kill Frenchmen." He released Carty's shoulder and reached out a hand to Cotton. "We will see how you and I match - it will be a show." He brought his rifle round and looked at it affectionately. "We'll do the best we can, anyway. No shame in losing to the man who beat Dan fair and square."

"Aye, you'd know better'n me. And there ain't no shame in losing to a Chosen Man of the 95th, neither." He grinned and offered Harris his hand. "He's a good lad, Carty is - you all are. An' I'm proud to know you."

Harris took the hand. "I hadn't planned on competing - but Langley damaged his knee in the skirmishing. I was trying to persuade young Carty to take his place ..." He smiled. "He turned my arguments back on me, and we ended up giving both our names to Mr Sharpe."

He grimaced. "I do rather regret having taken advantage of the lieutenant's relaxation of the rules. My head's clearer than it was this morning, but if I'd known..." He looked at Cotton. "What do you think of Coimbra?"

Carty smiled warmly at Cotton and Harris, feeling better about his performance with all the compliments; never a jeer or a sneer. "Thank you," he said softly to them, and then let the English wash over him, as he used to do before he started talking back. His eyes automatically scanned the crowd for Mister Sharpe, and he could not see him for all the much taller men around him. One of the knots returned; what would Mister Sharpe think?

Sharpe had been watching Carty and Hagman firing against each other with interest. He wasn't really surprised that Hagman had won; it would take some good shooting and steady nerves to beat him - he wasn't entirely sure he could beat Hagman. Maybe on a good day, but probably not consistently enough to win the best of five rounds.

He approached the group of riflemen, interested to note that Cotton had joined them. He returned their salutes. "Good shooting, that, Dan," he said, before turning to the young lad. "Well done, Carty. That was some good shooting against a very tough opponent. Keep it up, lad."

Carty relaxed, his stiff posture easing, and he beamed. "Thank you, Mister Sharpe, sir."

Sharpe was going to be watching Carty closely, though he saw no need to inform the lad of that, and make him even more nervous. The lad would make a good Chosen Man, one of these days, Sharpe knew.

"If you want more practise or anything, just ask," he said instead. "Well done, lads. And good luck, Harris," he added, catching the redhead's eye.