27 May; Pursuing a prankster

(Burr comes from here)

He had found two men from the Buffs and one from the Third Guards, and pressed them into service as a search party. They weren't too pleased with it, but there was no arguing with Burr. So it was that his little band undertook to search the ground around the surgeon's tent, looking for any sign of an intruder.

It was one of the Buffs who cut a trail leading away from the back of the tent. Closer inspection showed the canvas had been disturbed and neatly put back into place. A careful job. Burr and his searchers spread out along the trail, with the tall Buff following it closely. They'd catch up to this clever little beggar if the trail held.

Judd went forward slowly and painstakingly, crouched down low to the ground with his fingers brushing lightly over the surface, as he searched for the marks that had been left behind. He had been a poacher once, before he took the King's Shilling to get out of a sentence. He was not at all sure that he'd gotten the best of the bargain.

"It musta been a real light, soft-footed fellow who did this'n," he observed. "Didn't disturb the sentries at all, did he - an' leavin' hardly any track."

"Some lad knows what he's 'bout," Burr mused, looking along the darkened ground. He was no expert tracker but he was no slouch either. "Prolly a young'un. Which way's he gone off, then?"

Judd grumbled under his breath. "It's pretty dark, ain't it? Not so easy to foller." He traced along the ground, eyes searching - this would be a lot easier if it wasn't done by lantern-light. "An' I dunno what you expect to find once he gets back to places others go travelin' over more."

The Scotsman grunted. "We'll worry on that when it happens," he said. Following the physical trail would be impossible soon enough, but there was always a chance someone else might have noticed their quarry. That was, of course, assuming that their quarry was foolish enough to draw attention to himself. Unlucky, Burr thought, since he'd been fly enough to leave such a light trail thus far.

"You got a dog somewhere?" Judd said, snorting. "That'd be the only way you'll really get anywhere with this trail."

"Right," said the fellow from the Third Guards. " 'Cause we jes' carry dogs 'round on our backs, like."

Burr ignored him. "Haven't got a dog. Follow yon trail far's it goes. We'll sort out what's next then."

"I'm doin' it, ain't I?" Judd muttered. "But there's others crossin' over it now, an' - this is really about as far as it goes."

Right. Burr lifted his lantern and looked around speculatively. This looked to be a reasonably well travelled area. That was the problem. Whoever had left that trail would have long since disappeared.

"Don't even know what's so 'portant 'bout it,' the other Buff complained. "We was 'bout to get some scran, when you drug us off for this."

"Stow it," Burr told him levelly.

"Wait - I seen a dog somewheres about, little one what could sniff out a rabbit," one of the searchers remembered. "Think it belonged to the man what looks after the fifteenth's horses."

Judd was circling around, trying to see if he could spot the track of the light-footed person. It wasn't really doing much good, so after only a short few moments, he sat down on a rock, blowing out his breath in a sigh. "Now what, Sergeant?"

"Oi!" the man interjected, feeling ignored. "I said I knows a dog! Hows about I goes an' fetch this dog, aye? an' he'll sniff it out, we'll find the bugger what done the deed, and then we can all get back to our suppers and our women. Such of us as has women to get back to."

Burr lifted an eyebrow. "Do ye, now. An' what's s'posin' there's a good trail for this dog to be followin', after we stepped all o'er the scent?"

"Might be worth a try," Judd said; "less you got any better ideas." He grinned. "Or you could let us all go back to our dinner and stop the wild-goose chase, Sergeant..."

The Buff was ignored for the moment. Burr had been thinking over the provost's claims and now found himself wondering if there might be more to the man's indignant sputtering than simply blind finger-pointing. He didn't know half of whatever had happened earlier in the day, but...

"Don't reckon any of ye fine fellows'd know where that Rifles surgeon keeps his wagon," the sergeant said by way of answering the Buff's question.

Judd gestured vaguely in one direction. "Over there somewheres?" he said, guessing. "Dunno."

Over there somewheres. This was not much of an answer, but even a vague direction would do. "That way, then." Burr moved off toward the semi-distant cluster of wagons, intent to at least question the Riflemen about their whereabouts that evening. Once he found them.

"Mebbe Belcher an' I should go find that dog he knows," suggested Judd. It seemed like more fun than following Burr to the riflemen's wagons to go ask a load of silly questions. Besides, Judd liked dogs.

Bloody Buffs. Burr shrugged. "Any excuse to get outta some work," he said blandly. "Get on yer way, lads. Be quick."

While they were off chasing daft ideas, Burr would carry on with a more straightforward effort. He'd find the Riflemen if they were around the surgeons. It wasn't like they'd be that hard to find, really.

"Ye there, laddie," the sergeant called, spotting a tall boy in rough clothes. Perhaps he could be helpful. "C'mere a tick."

Jenny cringed when she realized that the man was talking to her. She put down her pack and her blanket and cautiously approached.

"Where'way's them Riflemen what're back here, s'posed to be with their surgeon?"

She pointed a dirty arm in the direction of the surgeon's wagon. "Over yon, sarge," she answered briefly.

Over yon. Good enough. Burr glanced at the other Guardsman. "C'mon then, laddie."

The sooner this was sorted, the better. He didn't like the way this business was playing out, already. The pair made their way toward the wagon and observed upon their approach the presence of a handful of men in yellow facings.

"Ye lads there," Burr said. "Where's them Riflemen at?"

One of the men eyed him warily. "There's one here, half-crippled. Dunno where the others're at, though."

That was a relief. Her disguise worked well enough in the dark, then. She had dressed as a boy before, of course, but only for amusement or convenience. But now, having been caught with stolen food, having stabbed a provost and having been asked to testify, she was just eager to keep that pretty lass Jenny from being found until the court martial was over. Until then, the tall boy in rough clothes would follow the surgeon's wagon at a discreet distance.

He still hadn't found Jenny and was about to give up and return to the fire he was sharing with Maggie when he heard someone asking about Riflemen. That couldn't be good, not after everything that had happened so far.

He sighed and moved toward the voices, adjusting the rifle that was slung over his shoulder. "Someone wanted one o' us?" he said, looking between the two faces. Whoever these two were, their sudden interest in the Riflemen couldn't be good, especially coming on top of all that had happened so far today