After the Skirmish

He slipped his arm around her to keep her upright, glaring at those who had come to see. Thankfully the Captain was among them and he told the curious soldiers and their womenfolk to disperse, in no uncertain terms. "Is she all right, Cotton?" he asked, and the Rifleman nodded.

"'M sorry we disturbed you, sir," he said, resolving to somehow make it up to the officer in the morning. He took the cup from Jenny and pressed it into Maggie's hand. "You drink this, and I'll sit by you an' we can talk about... about things. Like... where we'm goin' to live after all this is over." He had no real experience of comforting women, and was feeling his way as best he could.

Maggie felt strangely confused by it all, with the anxiety hanging over her. It still seemed so real, and yet here she was in the rifles' camp with Captain Vickery staring down at her. "I'm sorry about the noise," she said, addressing herself to him recklessly. "That was me. Sir." It had obviously not been Cotton screaming so. "I'm sorry I can't... stand..." she said as she began to slide down Cotton's side to sit on the ground. She smiled. Whatever drug they had given her, it took effect quickly. "Gabe, are you there?"

"I'm here," he said, crouching down next to her, pulling her close, even as he looked up at the captain. "She'll be fine, sir, it won't happen again." It probably would happen again but saying that here and now, wouldn't help the situation.

Vickery nodded and ducked back into his tent.

Cotton shifted to sit, wrapping his arms around Maggie and pulling her close so she could rest her head on his shoulder.

"I love you," he said, taking her hand and turning it to examine the ring in the starlight. "I... I'm glad you like the ring, I was a-feared that you wouldn't."

"My bed's safe? He's no where around us?" she asked, barely hearing the words he had said. Her limbs felt like heavy wooden logs as she tried to walk back toward their blankets. She didn't wait for an answer but could see that he was obviously not hidden in her blanket. Her own heaviness seemed to propel her toward it and into it as it wrapped her around untidily. "I'll just..." she began, speaking to Cotton but not finishing.

"He's nowhere near, I promise," he said and stood up before picking her up, deciding it would be easier to carry her. "An' I'm here, anyway, an' so are all the other Riflemen, and the Captain. It's safe as houses here. Speakin' of which, I want to take you home when this is all over an' done, back to Kent. We'll have ourselves a nice neat cottage, white weatherboarded, with roses in the garden. You like roses, don't you?"

He put her down and wrapped her blanket around her before wrapping his blanket around them both, holding her close. "We might have a bit o' honeysuckle too, if you like."

"Honeysuckle," she repeated sleepily. "House...? Don't let him come back while I'm outside." She pulled his arm protectively over her chest and wrapped both of her own around it, falling deep into sleep before she could hear his answer.

"Night, sweeting," he said, dropping a gentle kiss on her hair, smiling as she held his arm tight to her. He stayed awake for a long time after that, listening to her breathing, keeping watch.

In the morning she was the last to awake, sleeping through all noise and disturbances until it was time to take down the captain's tent. She had a vague recollection of the night before. Had it all been a dream, or only the first half of it? She sat up still wrapped in her blanket and stared stupidly at the activity around her.

Cotton had disentangled himself from her earlier in order to get up and get the fire going. He approached Maggie with a cup of tea, shaking her should gently to wake her, smiling as she sat up to look around.

"Mornin', lass. Here's a cup of tea for a bonny girl," he said, and held it out. "Did you sleep all right after... after that bad dream you had?"

"Yes... So I really did have a dream? Well I know I had a dream, but I didn't know if I really woke up or if that was dreaming too." She frowned, looking perplexed and groggy. "Did I wake you up?" she asked, speaking slowly as the realization dawned on her. "Oh Gabe! Did I wake everyone up? What... happened?" She roused herself out of her blanket and stood up slowly, finding her limbs to be like wooden puppets with strings, not entirely predictable in their movements. She supported herself on one of the remaining tent poles still standing. In the alley her head had been repeatedly beaten down onto the stones, but they were just so many additional bumps and bruises to add to what she already knew. But this strange weak dizziness - would it end?

Cotton was trying to dismantle the tent, and she could no longer support herself on the tent pole. She eased herself down its length to the bottom and then they both fell, the pole falling harmlessly into the tent and Maggie was again propelled by will into her blanket. She spilled her tea the first few tries before giving up and curling into a ball beneath her blanket again. They would just have to leave her for later. She'd be here to mark the tent's place when they got back from marching, she thought nonsensically.

The tent could wait a moment, Cotton decided, looking at the heap of canvas, rope and wooden poles.

He'd never seen a woman in this condition before, and wasn't quite sure what to do. He crouched next to Maggie, wondering if her symptoms were caused by the brandy of last night and simple exhaustion, or if they were the sign of something more serious. What he was going to do, he decided, was pack the tent up properly, load it onto the pack saddle of Vickery's mule and get Maggie onto the back of her donkey to take them both to the baggage. He could then deliver Maggie to the surgeon... He wondered if he could get permission from Vickery to stay with her.

Strictly speaking, as Vickery's batman, he was in charge of the officer's baggage at all times, which meant that he should stay with it. He preferred marching with his mates usually, and Jestel said he found it just as easy to look after two mules as one, which allowed Cotton to march with the rest of the Company. Right now, though, Maggie needed him there, especially after what she'd gone through only two days ago.

He pulled her into his arms. "You... you had a bad dream last night, Maggie," he said. "An' that Jenny Ross who's so friendly to you, an' bin lookin' after you for me, she gave you a bit of brandy. I reckon it's just that, an' that you'm so tired after all that catchin' up you had to do yesterday." He stroked her hair. "I're goin' to finish packin' the tent up, an' then I're goin' to take it an' you, down to the baggage. I'll see if I can't find a cart or somewhere you can sit on, an' I'll ask the Captain if I can stay with you today, if you'd like."

"I don't mind," she protested vaguely.

"Good," Cotton said. "'Cause you'm my woman, an' I'm goin' to look after you. An' right now, that means you doin' what I say. Which is to sit here, wrapped up nice an' warm in your blanket till I've got all this packed up, all right?"

That sounded reasonable, ideal even. She nodded and curled up on the ground again, closing her eyes. She had felt fine before standing up - or if not fine, at least not so dizzy and weak. With any luck, Cotton would have forgotten her by the time he was finished packing, and she would be able to sleep here for the rest of the day.

Cotton quickly had the tent rolled up and stowed in its bag, along with the pegs, guy lines, poles and mallet, fastening them on Willow's pack saddle. He looked over at Maggie, wondering where her own donkey was. Maybe he could get her to ride Willow? It would only be for the time it took them to get back to the baggage train, anyway.

"C'mon, Maggie, up you get," he said, shaking her shoulder gently.

She smiled and sat up, realizing that she had just been sleeping. She looked around and saw that the camp was clearing. "Gabe! How long was I asleep?" she gasped, standing in a hurry.

"What? Maggie, calm down. You've bin asleep most the night, like the rest of us. I've just this minute finished packin' the Captain's tent, and then you an' me are goin' to the baggage like we should do. All you got to do is fold your blanket an'... where's your donkey? Else you'll be settin' up on the Cap'n's things till we get to the baggage."

She looked... perfectly normal. Apart from the awful bruises that made him wince on seeing them in full daylight. And the red eyes... Hadn't she been choked or something? He had to get her to a surgeon, he thought.

Spontaneously, she reached out and wrapped her arms around him, clinging tightly. "I feel all confused, Gabe. He hurt my head, Sergeant Hakeswill..." She let go and stared at the ground in shock.

She hugged him, saying something, and stopped, pulling away, which made him blink. Sergeant Hakeswill, she'd said. He'd known it was, but nobody had said so. Nobody would accuse a sergeant of such a thing, after all.

He stepped forward to pull her back into his arms. "I knew it was, lass. No-one'd tell me, but they didn't have to. Soon's I heard what had happened, I knew who it was. An'... oh, Maggie. I still love you, sweeting."

She gasped has he pulled her closer. She pulled away and stared at him silently, sadly, guiltily. "I'm sorry," she finally said. It felt like an even worse betrayal for it to have been that particular man. Had it been a stranger, perhaps it might have been easier for Cotton to bear. "I never wanted to. I never wanted to."

"I know, sweeting, I know." He only had to look at her to see the truth of that. "He... he's got a grudge against me for... for summat that happened in Lisbon, afore you an' me..." he shrugged, giving a half-smile. "Well, afore you an' me got to talkin' prop'ly. Seein' as you only said you'd walk out with me the night afore we left Lisbon."

"I know," she said, looking up at him earnestly. "That's why it's so awful. He was probably in the stable to do something else to hurt you or... Gabe, you won't do anything that gets you in trouble, will you? Please, I don't want you to get in trouble!"

He wanted nothing more than to kill Hakeswill, make him suffer as he'd made Maggie suffer, but he couldn't say it. And if he did do anything to Hakeswill, he was sure Maggie would blame herself for telling him. "I won't, sweeting. I won't get in trouble, I promise." He looked around. "Here, is Jessy anywhere around? You'll be ridin' Willow, else."

"She's back there. But promise me!" she said, grabbing his arm. "Promise you won't do anything about him that gets you in trouble? I need you, Gabe."

"I promise, lass. On me mother's grave, I promise you I won't go gettin' in trouble." It was too serious a promise for him to smile as he said the words, but he looked into Maggie's blood-shot eyes so that she would see that he was being serious. Though if he could get the Sergeant somewhere where he could kick seven kinds of hell out of him without him being any the wiser as to who had done it, Cotton vowed he would.