The Day of the Court Martial

"Thank you, Sergeant Hakeswill."

He turned to the president.

"No further questions from the defence, sir."

As he sat down he did not dare look at Williams, but he could feel his gaze, along with that of Sharpe's from the other side of the room. God be with him, he silently prayed, because it may all go horribly wrong...

Sheppared: Does the prosecution wish to call anyone else to witness?

(OOC: If Willis calls Williams, this is where you end up talking to yourself, as well! I'm sure I can't prosecute half as well as you can, but I'll try if you really want me to.)

Horrified, Williams could only stare at Padstowe, who was refusing to look at him. He had been afraid from the start. What do the officers care what happens? Just a game, like that supercilious bastard of a prosecutor, who couldn't even be bothered to call any more witnesses.

Hakeswill had done for him. And the only consolation was that some day someone would pay him back. He opened his hands and stared down at them.

[OOC: Willis won't call any more. And Padstowe will call Williams, or just make a closing statement, which might be best, since Williams is feeling very much like a loose cannon at the moment and could go off (or perhaps more like a Girandoni rifle). Or he could call Sharpe back, or whatever. I didn't mean that as an instruction to Padstowe, merely what happens next court-wise]

Willis: No more witnesses, sir.

Sheppard: Do you wish to call anyone else to witness, Captain Padstowe?

You'd better do something, sir, or that bastard will have his bloody shooting party, he thought, his hands clenched.

The tall Sergeant next to him seemed to be just as confused as he was, at least, judging by the frown on his face, he was.

Padstowe finally dared to glance at Williams. He was looking more desolate than ever, staring down at his hands beneath the table and seemed to have gone white beneath his tan. His heart sank. Perhaps it would not be a good idea to call Williams now, but then again... He felt like a gambler who had kept all his cards to his chest and was nervously awaiting the last fall from the dealer.

Padstowe stood.

"The defence wishes to call Private Williams as witness, sir."

Williams cast a frantic sideways glance at Padstowe. Well, that was something. But what did he expect? That he should keep to their agreement? He swallowed and stood up, resting with his marked hands on the table before crossing to the witness stand. He couldn't match Hakeswill's military bearing, and felt as if he had shuffled across like a sick man.

All right,he thought. This is it. Watch that tongue, Williams.

Cotton released a breath he didn't know he had been holding. Please, Taffy, don't say anything you shouldn't ought to, he begged under his breath.

Padstowe looked Williams in the eyes for a couple of seconds, hoping that the man would find reassurance in his expression. He then began.

"Private Williams, I should like you to relate to the court the event as it appeared from your point of view."

And for God's sake remember our agreement!

Sharpe watched Williams cross to the stand. All right, lad, he thought. It'll be all right, just don't go and bugger it up by saying summat you shouldn't.

Hakeswill's baby blue eyes watched Williams malevolently. That's right, boyo, you're walking to your death.

Cotton saw the malevolent glare Hakeswill was directing at Williams, and hoped he knew there was someone in his corner. "You can do this, Taffy," he said under his breath. An Ensign in the seat in front of him turned round and glared at him, but Cotton was too much on tenterhooks to notice him.

[OOC: Hey, c'mon, I'm on bloody tenterhooks here!! I want to know whether I'll be able to save Williams' skin or not! D:]

Williams swallowed. And this was the easy bit, the one he'd done before. "I was walking back to the billet, and going to turn up into the street, when I saw the Lieutenant - only then I didn't know it was the Lieutenant, just a man with a rifle, who stepped into the shadow - into an alley. I stopped to see what was going on. There weren't many people about. And then the Lieutenant - the man - started back up the street, and I heard the sounds of a scuffle. Not a proper fight, see, more like someone being attacked. So I started up the street, and the rifle was fired. That's when I started to run, and saw the Lieutenant collapse, and someone running off. I couldn't catch them, and went back to the Lieutenant, and he was - he was taking this string from his neck. So I asked him if he was all right, which was bloody daft. But he said he just wanted to be helped up, so I took his arm... and someone grabbed me. I now know that it was Sergeant Hakeswill..." He had been speaking almost to himself, but now, at this point he fixed his eyes on Padstowe, and continued almost without pause"... who had misunderstood the situation he saw."

Padstowe almost sighed aloud in relief.

"So," he said, doing his level best to keep his voice calm. "You were kneeling over Lieutenant Sharpe from out of a desire to assist him?"

[Not my call, but that bit he'd been studying. It's always the questions that catch you out. When you wing it. I want to know Padstowe's strategy, so I can play into it (or away from it)]

Of course he bloody was. Hadn't he just said so? Cotton had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from saying something. If he were to say anything, not only would it not help Williams, but it might see him thrown out for contempt of court or something.

Williams straightened. "Of course, Sir." He seemed to have found the tone of someone who was hurt that he should be doubted. Probably too much. But it felt as if Padstowe had doubts, or why would he ask. "That was all I wanted - to help." Damn, now he sounded like someone from Chapel.

[*screams* I swear that answer wasn't there a moment ago...]

"And you did not see the face of or in any way recognise the Lieutenant's attacker?"

"He was a soldier - a redcoat like me. I saw that. Bur that hardly narrows it down, not today, not in Lisbon. Apart from that, I wouldn't swear to the truth of my impressions, not just face, but details of uniform - it was dark and a fleeting glimpse and I am on oath."

Not a lie there at all. No perjury, but a fingerhold on the rockface of defeat.

A little more locquacious than desirable, but it'd do.

"And did you help Lieutenant Sharpe to remove the garotte from around his neck?"

Say yes, Taffy, damn you, say yes you did, Cotton thought, trying not to jump up and down. The bloody tension was really getting to him.

"No sir. Not to help him unwind it, Sir. He had the ends when I reached him and was untwisting it from round his neck. I didn't interfere. I thought I might panic him, see. You get one bastard put a rope round your neck, and fight him off, and then another turns up and starts pulling on the same rope. I mean, what are you going to think?" Oh. Well, carry on. "I just put my hand on his arm to help lift him up. And he took the garotte off on his own. I didn't touch it till you gave it to me."

[Does you boy have a deathwish or what?]

Hell! Oh well, it may still come out alright.

"Thank you, Private Williams. The defence has no furthuer questions, sir. Would the prosecution care to ask anything of the witness?"

[No - that's the truth. He's under oath, and doesn't know what you want. You won't let him commit useful perjury against Hakeswill, but then expect him to lie about a garotte he never had.

"Are you all right?" Stupid question, he told himself, but what else could you say to a man pulling a cord from round his neck.

]