Training Day - the Girandoni

So they had talked about it, which was only to be expected. Vickery wondered if the rifle was the only thing they had spoken about. He couldn't expect Cotton to be entirely comfortable with Edrington, but it sounded as though he was more his old self, which was encouraging.

"I think the key is reliability, sir," Vickery said. "It would do a man no good to put his trust in a weapon that failed at the most awkward times. A Baker, well looked after, is just as reliable as a Brown Bess, and when it fails to fire, that can be attributed to the weather or a bad flint. Very rarely will they fail of their own accord."

Brandon was walking alongside Wellesley thinking about Hunter and the General's suspicions of the man. Well, he only knew the man for what? three days now... so no basis for definite conclusions, but basically everything could be true... or not. His own inquisitiveness had been awakened by Wellesley's words.
He decided to go and look for Hunter before dinner, to see how he was getting along, what with having helped with the organisation of this day's events. He turned to the General.

"Would you excuse me, Sir. I'll just go and see if they require any help bringing this event to the conclusion it deserves. I'll see to the books on my return." With that he saluted and turned to go back to the training field.

Wellesley nodded his permission and continued walking back to the monastry. Brandon had probably not gone back for what he said he had, but the General knew he could trust Brandon implicitely.

He arrived back at the monastry, absently nodded to the sentries as he and his party came in... and then learnt from an anxious Stuart that a monk had been found dead, possibly murdered, in the other part of the monastry.

"That was what Cotton said - that the Baker could only go wrong in a limited number of ways, while this thing could - and, I could assure him, did - fail in a surprising variety of ways. Except that it will not fail in wet weather..." Edrington looked at Vickery and saw the small doubt in his eyes. "We did mention the court-martial and the flogging," he said quietly. "but I hope it isn't going to be the defining moment of our relationship - mine with the Riflemen in general, I mean."

Vickery nodded. "Cotton isn't one to dwell on the past, sir," he said. "What's done is done, after all. And from the fact that you seem to have had a perfectly civilised conversation, I would say that he doesn't hold it against you. What's more, if Cotton has been able to move on, and show no resentment, I find it highly unlikely that anyone else in the Company will resent you for it either. I think today has gone a long way towards that, sir." He shrugged, smiling. "Even if you and I are the only people to realise it, sir."

Edrington raised his eyebrows at that. "Resent? I should hope not. If they resent discipline ... I think Cotton and I reached something like a mutual understanding. His fear is that the finding of guilt will be what people remember. I hope that today will have done a lot to dispell that fear."

Vickery raised an eyebrow. "Maybe I shouldn't clarify my meaning, sir. I actually meant that my men may have become resentful of you ordering one of their number to be flogged. They would have counted the fact that you found him guilty almost as irrelevant. The fact of the matter is, however, that they will not become so, as Cotton himself holds no such antipathy." He smiled. "I am more pleased than I can say, sir, that you feel that you and he have come to a mutual understanding."

"Something like that. He is a good man - " Edrington hesitated and then nodded decisively. "A good man, I think, as well as an excellent Rifleman.
And this talk of discipline reminds me - have you had an opportunity to find out what your rifleman was doing hunting rabbits with the Hussar?"

"He was off scouting and switched his attention to getting dinner when the opportunity presented itself. A lapse of attention I do not expect to find in my men." He shook his head ruefully. "More to the point, sir, I would like to know what the Hussar thought he was doing hunting rabbits with one of my Riflemen. The man didn't even have a firearm, for Heaven's sake."

"He probably didn't think at all. He's been throwing stones around in a very haphazard fashion, and clipped your lieutenant Jaeger ... He'll be sent back to the 15th Hussars, and they can try to control him. I'm just sorry I had to burden your company with him at all."

"He didn't kill anything, which is a mercy. But if he simply wasn't thinking, that would explain why infantry soldiers think that in the cavalry, it's the horses that have all the brains. Or at least, it's the horses that are the intelligent ones. He was the one who got Lieutenant Jaeger? I did think he had more sense than to throw stones at officers, I must say."

Sharpe had watched the display with interest, and was pleased to see Cotton try it for himself. The day had gone a long way to restoring the man's self-confidence and pride.

He nodded politely to Edrington's KGL friend. The Colonel himself was in conversation with Captain Vickery, who looked very proud of his men. He had every right to be proud of them; they had put on a very interesting and useful demonstration. Sharpe was just as proud of his own men, of course.

"You would have though he would have more sense, but the cavalry pride themselves on their lack of thought. Deeds not deliberations, and all that. But Major Vereker will find him - if it is him." He saw Sharpe at the edge of the crowd. "Will you excuse me Captain Vickery - I wish to have a word with Sharpe?"

"Certainly, sir," Vickery said. It had been a far better day than he had expected, and he was very pleased with his men. He would tell them so, later, and thank them for their efforts.

He saw Sharpe and nodded toward him. He would have to thank the Lieutenant and his men, of course, but that could wait.

"Until later, then, sir," he said.

"Thank you." Edrington smiled back, and said again: "It was a most impressive display, and I am very pleased with you. All thanks are due I am sure to the two of you and your men."

He touched his hat to Vickery, and went over to Sharpe.

"First, I must say to you what I have just said to Captain Vickery - that was an excellent day's work, and one I am more than glad to be associated with. Are you happy with it?"

Sharpe saluted as Edrington came over to him.

"Aye, it were a good day, an' I'm right proud of me lads, sir. I don't reckon it could've gone better if we'd tried."

To have Carty tie with the 60th lad in getting the flag, and Hagman tie right till the last shot fired during the shooting competition... No, there was nothing at all to be ashamed of there.

"You have some good men - and boys. The Irish lad is coming along nicely, and I don't need to tell you to keep an eye on him - in the best way. By the way, do you know Rittmeister v Lossow? A friend of mine, in the 1st Hussars, King's German Legion."

"Aye, I'll do that, sir. He'll be ready to be a Chosen Man afore he knows it, I reckon."

He shook his head. "von Lossow? No, sir, don't think I do."

"Then I'll introduce you - don't worry, his English is excellent. V Lossow, may I introduce Lieutenant Richard Sharpe of the 95th Regiment of Rifles?"

v Lossow clicked his heeles. "How do you do?"

[that's not even translated in my Heyer edition!*grins*]

He held his hand out. "Very well, thank you. And how are you?"

v Lossow took the offered hand in a firm grip and replied: "Impressed with your presentation. Personally, I have had the honour of fighting with riflemen last year, but many of the troops here today have not that advantage. I believe this will go a long way to unite our forces."
With an eyeroll he concluded: "We should not be fighting amongst ourselves, but against the enemy."

"Most of the fights I heard about were redcoat on redcoat - even in the same company," Edrington said, then grinned at Sharpe. "I doubt if we will have time for any more football matches, before we march north."

"Thank you, sir." He liked the look of the German officer, and something he'd said sounded familiar. "Last year, sir? Were you on the retreat to Corunna, then?"

He grinned at Edrington. "The 95th can make time for a football match on a five minute break, sir. Never mind a whole evenin' before a march."

"Oh, but for the sake of our horses we have to go on our shooting expedition!"

Surely there would be time for that? Purely for the horses, of course.