TD - 15th Hussars HQ

'A stone?! Striking a liuetenant?! You assaulted an oficcer?! And how was that an accident?!' Pierce stood mere inches away from Willoughby now, his eyes blazing with anger.

Wiloughby could almost hear his heartbeat for it was so fast and heavy, beating against his chest as if it wished to make a run for it.

No, no, no. This wasn't right. He felt fear intensify. It didn't help that the captain now stood so close that he could easily guess what he
had had last eaten.

"No, sir. ..I did not assault an officer. No, sir. " He repeated again, his voice shaking. "I did not. Sir. Please, sir. "

'Then. What. Happened?!' continued Pierce in the same voice.

"..I... I threw a stone at a crow..." He felt his throat dry, so that he coughed trying to speak. After several dry coughs he steadied himself.

"It... had relieved itself onto my coat... 's.. .why I threw that stone." And because he thought his day was a mixture of good - riflemen's presentations - and the worst - his wallet lost and all his money gone.

Pierce turned and walked back to the desk, where he poured some water into a glass. 'So, let me get this straight. A crow crapped on you and you threw a stone at it? And hit a liuetenant? God, even if this is true, it only goes to show how incompetent you are!'

".....Yes, sir." He didn't agree, yet it was easier to just say yes. Easier with the officers. The only way to go. He'd tried to proove that he was innocent of desertion, yet did it help? Pierce was still convinced that he did it. He felt defeated. He lowered his head.

'Willoughby!' snapped Pierce. 'Did you or did you not assault him?'

"I did not assault him, sir. I... did not see him or know he was there when I threw the stone, sir." He jumped, and had responded in a trained tone of a soldier reporting for duty.

For a few moments, Pierce studied the boy, then he bellowed: 'Sergeant!' The man came in and stood to attention just to the right of Willoughby 'Sir?'
'Escort Trooper Willoughby here to the spare room on the first floor. He will remain there until the decision is made'.
'Yes, sir'. The sergeant started moving Willoughby out of the room.

Willoughby saluted to the captain, and as he were dismissed he turned and followed after the sergeant. He was relieved that he was leaving yet unconvinced that his future looked anything but bleak. If he were left living and not sent before the firing squad, he could consider it the justice done.

He thought of his grandfather. Disappointed. He would be so disappointed right now. As he climbed the stairs he kept his eyes ahead of him, carefully picking each step.

The Sergeant led the boy to the small but nice looking room, that seemed to have belonged to a child of the house. There was a comfortable looking bed, a small table and a chest. There was a window opposite to the door. Sergeant ushered Willoughby in.
'I'll get someone to bring you your things'.

"Thank you, sergeant." Willoughby's face was paler than the wall of his new room. He slumped onto the bed, pulling his legs up somewhat.
He sighed and looked up at the ceiling. A lovely room it must've been. For a child who lived without worries all till the French came. He could wonder whether the child was still alive and only lived someplace else, hiding away from danger or whether the house had lost it's prior occupants.

It was something to distract himself, as fear for his future threatened to have him loose his nerve.

'You allright there, trooper?' asked Sergeant noticing Willoughby's face before he closed the door.

"Yes... " He lowered his gaze. "No..." He felt terrible. "..Yes,.." He said at last.".. I'll live." He added with a smile, that was supposed to be assuring. "Sergeant." And he saluted the man before the door closed behind him.

'I've no doubt you will, lad' grinned the sergeant and closed the door. Locking the room, the man shook his head. Captain Pierce seemed to have gone over the top while questioning the boy.

'I've no doubt you will, lad'

He found himself praying that the sergeant's confidence was well placed.

He sat motionless for a short while. He then got up, paced the room and came to sit again. Though it might have been no more than quarter of an hour it felt as if it had been half a day already. He stood again, paced the room, walked to the window, then to the door. Walked the length of the room and then returned to sitting on the bed. He slipped his pelisse of his shoulders and folded it neatly to his left.

The Sergeant returned to the Captain.
'How is he, sergeant?' asked Pierce looking up from his papers.
'Scared out of his wits, sir'.
'As well he should be!' growled Pierce 'Gallivanting all over Portugals'. The man sighed. 'What he really worries me is the assault charge'.
The Sergeant who'd been listening at the door, nodded gravely.

He found himself up on his feet again. How long was it? He lied back , slipping his boots of his feet. He observed one for the stains of mud and traces of wear. It did not take long that he began to tend to them. First he had shined one, rubbed it as clean as it could be, then placed it on the floor and worked his way alongside the length of his other boot. Anything to take his mind off. Mostly unsuccessful though. At any sound that came from the other side of the room, he jumped and was ready to pull both boots on and stand at attention.

Then when the sound or footsteps passed, he slipped back trying to relax again.

About an hour after Willoughby was locked in the room, the Sergeant unlocked the door and let Captain Hunter in, locking the door afterwards again. George was feeling somewhat worn out by his haggling for Bella with the Colonel, but he hid any traces of weariness.

Willoughby stood stiff at attention. Somehow he had managed to hop back into his boots which might've near cost him his ankle again if not for the soft bad breaking his fall. He was quickly back up, and saluting the captain before he settled into his position.

Hunter eyed Timothy's antics with amusement, then waved him back down on the bed as he himself looked around the room.
'Tell me straight off, do any of the charges have a grain of truth in them?'

He sat slowly, feeling awkward to sit in the presence of an officer. "Only that I have come late in reporting, sir." He did not think to lie.

"..And that my stone had struck an officer... I ..think." He lowered his gaze." But it was not intentional.., sir."

'Good, good', smiled Hunter, sitting down on the floor, opposite Willoughby and leaning against the wall. 'Are you scared?'

"...Yes, sir." He answered truthfully. He looked down at the captain then began to stand. "You should sit here sir... and I on the floor."

'I am not here as an officer, Willoughby, so sit!' George looked down, shifting uncomfortably. 'I am here as your friend... if you will permit me'.