26 May, evening; by the river

"..Did you now. ..You were facing him, or were you turned away...?" He looked at Smith and nodded. "...Wait." He told him and then averted his gaze to Newbury. "..If you run, you will be shot." He warned, coldly and then pointed towards the spot, not too far from them , which the fires could not reach and so it was quite dark.

"Go there. Private." He said. He did not particularly like the riflemen, perhaps having him walk, when it was clear that he was in pain, had been a personal entertainment enough for the officer, but at the very least it had a reason. He also, at present, felt a certain amount of hostility towards the provost looters, and considered them nothing but liars.

"Ah wait." He reached into his pocket and then, held something to the man, a darker coloured handkerchief, which he made sure that only Newbury could see. ".. You will tuck it in your coat..., private. Once you have reached the spot." He whispered and then turned to Giles, all too sweetly. "I will show you.. how.. either.. your fellow.." His eyes narrowed on Giles. "..Is weaker than a babe.... or.. " He allowed the men to make thier own assumption of the second choice.

++

"Gabe.. I dunno if .." The lad looked more nervous now." Them there.. they are provosts ..." He didn't want to explain how he knew." ..We should get Vickery. ...he could set them right.. we can't." He dropped his gaze.

Giles felt ill. "I was kneelin' down, sir, for a drink. Had my back mostly to the bank, sir."

The officer knew. Giles was certain of it. How could he make his accusation stick in the face of such suspicion?

"Yes sir," Newbury said, walking forward as steadily as he could. What the hell was this redcoat thinking of? He said nothing when the officer quietly handed him the handkerchief but did as he was directed. It was noticeably darker where he'd been told to stand, being somewhat removed from the firelight.

"Ready, sir."

"Vickery's away ahead with the rest of the Comp'ny an' we'm here - me an' Joe - 'cause it's a punishment duty, sort of." This did not look good at all. "They ain't goin' to do anythin' - they can't, not without lettin' him know, anyhow."

And there was movement. The officer was telling Newbury to move away from them, and one of the provosts was kneeling down. He wondered what exactly was going on.

"So.. you were kneeling down. You could not see him, or his uniform. But of course.. you would not lie. Did you perhaps catch his reflection in the water?" The man's voice sounded relatively neutral, if not for the feeling that came with each word. As if he were playing with his mouse and wondering when the mouse would realise that it was caught and there wasn't an escape possible.

"....say.. then.. Describe his uniform. It was a bit darker than here wasn't it." He smiled cooly. "I want all the details that you can see. Especially if anything is out of order." He eyed Smith. ".. When I will tell you, you shall join our dear grasshopper.. and you shall tell him to shove you... I believe he should be half kneeling to do so.., after all, the trooper was.. kneeling himself." He smiled and turned around to Giles, delighting to see the lad tremble and look rather uncomfortable.

++

"...Aye..." Pye bit his lip. What were they doing? Did they mean to shoot him. Order him to flee, and when he would, shoot him for attempting that. He wouldn't be surprised if they had a twisted mind as that. Wanting to take revenge for something they thought Newbury did, wounded their pride.

"...no." He uttered softly to himself. "...Gabe. We should..... what if they make him do something?"

"A little darker, sir," Giles admitted. He thought back desperately, trying to match up what he knew of the rifleman's uniform to how he had actually been positioned. "So I was kneelin', sir, with my hands down this way, just took a bit of water like. My horse gave a wicker and I started to glance up, sir. And I seen a bit of red, like a cuff, just afore somebody bulled square into me. Right from the side, sir. From the left."

He paused and thought for a moment, tugging scraps of detail out of the blurred memory. "I seen his face too, after I was in the river, sir. Bit of a pale blob 'gainst the dark, sir."

"I dunno, but we can't go interruptin' an officer, even if he is doin' some queer things," Cotton said, though he was worried himself. Newbury's knee was not going to hold up much longer, not without having something to lean on. Which made him realise that the other Rifleman didn't have his rifle, or his sword-bayonet.

He shifted forward a little so that he could be seen if the officer looked up, swallowing as he did so. He had no idea what he was going to do or say.

".. What do you see now, Trooper. You will answer my question. " The officer did listen, though as the description went, the red cuff did fit with the caught rifleman, unless he had seen red something, and didn't even mean it to be a cuff but an uniform. Or perhaps he was only a very clumsy man, who had slipped and now wanted to put blame on someone else.

"....a pale blob.. why,.. that is exactly like him then. Could be no other..." He turned to Smith with a nod. " Go, now. Do as I've told you" And then added. "But.. your friend here. He does look a bit like a pale blob. And maybe him there. Also. And did you see that man there, " He indicated Cotton even if he had not aknowledged him as actually present. "..If trully it hadn't been a spirit of a Frog that came after you.. ." Sarcasm clear as day. "...Are you certain it was that pale blob 'against the dark?"

++

Pye ducked low and sat by Cotton's side. He knew that the provost hadn't seen him, but what if there was even the slightest possibility that he had. But Newbury was there, and possibly in grave trouble too. Why did the man had to appear by the river at the worst possible time! Pye frowned.

Christ alive. The officer did know. Giles closed his eyes for a moment to settle his mind, then he mimicked his position as it had been at the river edge. The firelight made it more difficult, but he was sure the general layout was the same.

"Bit of a shadow, just out of the corner of my eye, sir. Some tiny bit of red maybe. He came up from the left, sir," he replied, as he scooped his hands together, catching two palms full of imaginary water. "I'm dead sure, sir."

Smith was kneeling down in approximation of Giles' position. He did not doubt his mate's claims, unlike this bastard of an officer.

What the hell was going on? Newbury had his ticket with him - Cotton knew it. If he'd got himself in trouble yet again, Captain Vickery was going to take a very dim view of it. He might even send him back to a Line regiment or something. He frowned, trying to see what the officer was getting at, though he didn't have a clue.

Right. Newbury drew in a quiet breath. He had to go at this like he'd actually done it. His knee had better bear up.

"Wait," the officer said suddenly, a pensive frown on his face. "You. Out of the way. You, Trooper. Move to where he was." He pointed at Smith first, then Giles. The two provosts moved swiftly, and then Giles was kneeling where Smith had been only a moment before.

"Go," the officer said and turned his frown on Newbury.

"Yes sir," Newbury said. Here we go, he thought, praying his knee would not buckle in midstride. He straightened up, then bent half over and went forward as fast as he could at the kneeling Giles. From the left, the provost had said, so Newbury ploughed into him from the left.

The impact send shards of pain through the stitched-up gash in his side, but somehow his knee had held until the last moment. His very last step was a very slight wobble. Yet he had managed to put his full weight against the provost's back. Was it enough? It had better be. If not, there would be questions asked and the other riflemen found. Newbury was not confident that Pye would keep the truth to himself, if he was questioned. Stupid boy.

The officer observed, his eyes mostly on Newbury's form and in part also on poor Giles's, who might as well have felt whether there was a difference now from that of then. Truth be told, the officer also delighted to see, the provost thrust against, and curious if the grasshopper could do it , even on his unsteady feet, or not.

"Trooper, how.. was it?" He smirked.

++

"..'e's not done anything wrong, I'm sure of it. Gabe. Whatever they're doin'.. they're jus' being provosts... idiots." He said that hushed, near quiet, but rather resentful. "... it ain't couse he'd done something."

"I know that," Cotton replied, moving forward a little. Did he want the officer to see him? He wasn't sure, but he couldn't leave Newbury out there on his own.

He was going to tie his fellow Rifleman to Willow's pack saddle, if he got out this scrape - it would probably be the only way to keep Newbury from getting into any more trouble.

Giles grimaced as he was knocked forward. It was not the same as it had been on the river bank, but here the ground was firm and flat. He felt his previous uneasiness fading. There was still a chance to get things back under control.

"That was about how it was, sir," he said. It wasn't, actually, and he knew it. This greenjacket lacked the force that had been behind the actual shove. But Giles had chosen his story and he was not going to deviate from it.

"Can you hear what they are saying?" Pye whispered, and lifted himself up. He was witness to the shove. The familiar one that he had forced upon the very same man and which threw him into the water, from where he had to swim to safety on his own. He had nearly drowned, and Pye had hoped that he would've done so.

It seemed that Giles hadn't had time to go to his horse yet, else another discovery might have made his already dark day, pitch black.

++

"Was it now... Shall we not go to the river bank, the very same spot, and try it again, just to be sure?" The Officer asked in a tone that suggested he was dead serious. His eyes were still on the man, who had claimed that he knew his attacker, but was now proving that he wasn't exactly sure. "..Private. I'd like to see you run again. Ah.. and move silently as we were. Crouched down, as if you were intending to sneak up on this man. " He looked at Giles for any sort of protest. ".. I would suppose you aren't deaf, are you, trooper? As if you were.. this experiment would hardly have mattered."

"That's how it was, sir," Giles repeated, mentally kicking himself for showing any uncertainty. Too late, though. Dammit. He knelt down again. "Not deaf, no sir."

Cotton could cheerfully wring Newbury's neck - and probably would, if it wouldn't lead to awkward questions. He had no idea what sort of pantomime was being played out, but it was obviously causing Newbury a deal of trouble with his injuries. He found himself seriously contemplating roping both Newbury and Pye to Willow's pack saddle so he could keep an eye on them. Why Vickery hadn't sent a Sergeant back with them, he didn't know.

He had to do it again. Dammit. Newbury collected himself and returned to his original place. Could he do it again? Stupid. He had to, or Pye would end up in it, damn the boy. Whatever had possessed him to do something so idiotic?

Crouch down and sneak. Right. Come on, Joe. The half-crouch made his knee scream with pain, but he ignored it doggedly. Bear up, bear up. At least it was easier to sneak forward here, where it was not muddy or slippery. He was thankful for that. From the left. Sneak, carefully... from the left. God it hurt. Go.

The wobble came almost at once this time, but he was already in motion and the stumble was minimal. This had better be enough now. He couldn't scrape through a third attempt.

"..So, ..you will tell me that this man.. who's reason for being here, with the camp followers is probably because he suffers some sort of injury." With that knowledge he had still sent the same man running about, wobbling even, and landing the provost in the dirt: "..has attacked you, for no reason at all, and thrust you into the water? This man.. who is.. perhaps capable, even if barely, of this on this flat, simple land? Why.. , trooper...whatever your name is..., you must be kidding. " He shook his head. "...But .. the provosts never lie..., and they do not... hoard the goods that they hang others for.. do they?" He asked that pointedly, though he looked as if he were solely a part of a play.

His eyes locked onto the two forms in equally coloured uniforms as that of their prisoner."...should we invite them to come." His gaze at this time was on Newbury. He smirked.

++

Pye averted his gaze from the trooper, and studied Cotton. If he hadn't come along, perhaps the pair would have gotten into even worse trouble. Well, he couldn't exactly say the pair, since at present the only one in need of saving was Newbury. He sighed. He hadn't meant to be caught and if Newbury hadn't been there, nobody would know. Nobody at least would have a person to blame.

"..He's not going to make him run a third time...?" He just couldn't watch it. He knew of the man's injuries, and this was aggrevating them as anything.

"I bloody hope not," Cotton said tightening his grip on his rifle. Who knew what damage Newbury was doing to his knee - and his side. This stupid charade had gone on for quite long enough - Vickery was going to string them up, all three of them, if he ever heard about this. They'd been sent to the rear precisely to keep them out of trouble, not to go blundering about and find more.

"I'm goin' to tie him up an' put him with the Captain's stuff, I am," he muttered, still watching the scene in front of them.

"Stop it." Jenny emerged into the light and the midst of the provosts. The women at the river had told her about Newbury's arrest and she had found the provost's camp to witness this ridiculous charade. How could men be so infernally stupid? And it was on these men that the safety of England rested? "God help us all, man, your own horse pushed you in, and you're too shamed to admit it. Joe's done his leg in while actually fighting for king and country, not some clumsy slip on a mudbank, and he's not going to ruin his leg while reenacting your little tumble in the creek." She was swaying slightly, but she stood next to Joe as if to prop him up with her own uncertain frame. "There now, Joe, we've got three good legs between us."

Giles' expression was unreadable. "It was him, sir. We encountered him earlier in the day, him and his two mates. The other two was together but we had to go searchin' this one down. S'posed to have been with the surgeons, only he wasn't. Probably up to no good, like all greenjackets do, sir."

The officer was pointing off to the side. Newbury shifted so he could see what he was pointing at, and sighed. "That's me mates, sir," he said dully. It suddenly felt worse now. Couldn't the officer just declare this whole stupid sham of a trail over yet?

Then, of all people, Jenny Ross came barging into the firelight. Newbury blinked and stared. What the hell was she doing? He was grateful for the support, especially when she crossed the ground toward him and offered a shoulder for him to lean on, but really...

"Sorry, sir," he muttered, embarrassed.

"He ain't to blame though, Gabe. .... He did nothing. I bet he did nothing. N' I don't think it's a crime to take a walk. Not ..really. It isn't." He found himself defending Newbury. Because he knew what was true and because, he felt that he could've said the same even if he hadn't known. Before he could say more though, he saw Jenny appear and approach Newbury. He blinked, recognising the girl as one that was often around the man in question.

What was she doing? Surely she wouldn't get in trouble herself. The daft thing!

++

The officer was quite surprised to hear the woman, who ought to have been quiet, and timid and hold her tongue, speak out. She came to support the greencoat as if his his legs could no longer do so. He silently agreed in part with her, though he could hardly give her any sense that he did.

"You better hold your tongue, woman." He spoke. She was no lady, just a lass who possibly sold to the men a various array of wares. "And you trooper. We will conclude this with a proper hearing. You better be sure of who you accuse, else we might need to test all of them riflemen on you so that your memory may compare, or else perhaps, just to be sure, we shall call on all redcoats, who , I bet, will gladly test their skill." If the rifleman was guilty, he would be punished for it. If not, he would be let go, and kept a watchful eye on. Him and his two pals. But now, he had to have someone sent to inform the captain of the riflemen, that one of his was at present put under arrest and placed under suspicion of assaulting a provost. He also needed someone to inform the officers that were needed, about the arrest and suspicion placed upon these provosts. Looters.

"Call your friends over." He could use them. They were soldiers and bound to follow orders. To be the deliverer of bad news to their own officer was, he mused, another form of humiliation probably. But to teach these men humility, it wasn't a bad opportunity at all.

"I'm sure, sir," Giles said firmly. No more doubts and uncertainty now. It had gone too far for that.

The other provosts stared at the greenjacket in disgust.