FicWad

“Ain’t we a pair o’ shites?”

“What d’ye mean, Fitzmaurice?”

“Me eye, your hands…we could be out there wi’ the rest. Instead we’re here in town, three sheets to the wind, doin’ absolutely fuckin’ nothin’. We’re useless to ‘em! We may as well be dead!”

“If that’s how ye feel, perhaps Colonel Callahan’ll put ye back in combat.”

“I tried.”

“What’d he say?”

“Not ‘til the patch is off.”

“Why not?”

“I suppose he’s worried I can’t aim wi’ the one eye.”

“Can ye?”

“’Course I can! That’s me bad eye. I close it anyhow.”

“Ye tell him that?”

“Aye.”

“What’d he say?”

“He said, ‘No means no, Fitzmaurice.’” Bastard…”

Liam chuckles at Captain Fitzmaurice’s mockery of the Colonel and says, “Perhaps me father could do somethin’.”

“Doubt it.”

“Sure, we might as well give it a go. I don’ know how much good it’ll do, but we can at least ask. How much longer ‘afore ye get it checked?”

“Three more godforsaken days.”

“Why won’t Doctor Sparrow-”

“His hands are tied. He told me so hisself.”

“Let’s go see Jack.”

Liam and Captain Fitzmaurice stumble around Crosspoint in the middle of the afternoon, ambling in the general direction of their eventual destination. When they arrive, they interrupt a meeting of Kerrigan’s generals. She dismisses the meeting and gives them each a place to sit. Jack is not there and will not be returning for at least another hour. Liam, like his father, is typically stoic, especially when he is drunk. Every once in a while, emotions get the better of him. Liam and Jack both drown their pain in liquor and typically lash out in anger rather than admit to being hurt or saddened. Captain Fitzmaurice, on the other hand, does not usually drink to ease his pain and only very recently started drinking out of pain and boredom. He falls asleep after consuming fairly small quantities of alcohol. Almost immediately after sitting on Kerrigan’s bed, he falls over and loses consciousness. Liam stares blankly ahead. Kerrigan takes one of his hands in hers and unwraps the bandage, examining his hand carefully, then repeating the process with the other hand.

“Why weren’t ye there?”

“Your father asked me not to be there. He did not want me in the camp. He needed me to return to town to stay so that I could take care of business while you were not well. I had no desire to leave your side. I even forgot my propriety in order to be there, a detail which I know you will find to be amusing.”

“Ye did?”

“I did. I arrived in my nightshirt wearing no corset.”

“I know why he sent ye back, then. ‘Tisn’t safe.”

“Liam, may I ask you a personal question?”

“Is Fitzmaurice asleep?”

“I can assure you that Captain Fitzmaurice is soundly asleep.”

“Then go ahead.”

“I have never seen you with a woman. I hope that you do not find it impolite of me to ask this, but even I become curious about some things. Do you have a girlfriend somewhere?”

“No.”

“Would you want one?”

“Not now.”

“Why would you not want a girlfriend?”

“I’ve not the money to treat her right.”

“You have money from guarding me at the Senatorial Ball and a monthly salary from your knighthood. Is there another reason?”

“I don’t want to talk ‘bout it.”

“Did you have a woman whom you loved dearly that you lost or did you desire a woman who was already claimed by another man?”

“The one an’ on’y woman I ever loved died ‘cause o’ me. She was the sweetest girl, an orphan. Her ma’ died o’ the croup when she was but a wee girl, an’ her da’ was killed in the Revolution when she was fifteen. She’d a brother who serves in the Forty-Third North Side Bridgeton Cavalry. He’s a major an’ very oul’ fashioned. He was a fair bit older’n her. He’s the one who kept her off the streets, even though she had to travel wi’ him an’ his unit for a time. That’s how I met her, matter o’ fact. I was in the smugglin’ trade. This was durin’ the Revolution, o’ course. A few years o’ courtin’ passed quickly, an’ we was engaged to be married. This was thirty years ago, thirty long years. She was captured an’ killed when they came for me. I spent every copper I had to me name to pay for her headstone, nearly starved to death payin’ for it. I very nearly followed her to the grave. We didn’t even get the body.”

“Are you certain that she died?”

“That’s what we were told.”

“You should ask Senator Volkov’s father-in-law about her. He personally saved a lot of lives, mostly those of women, from that very fate, though few every found their families again after the Revolution. What was her name?”

“Mary Jameson, a name I’ll never forget, but we were told-”

“I shall ask if Lord Miternowski has her in his records. To the officials, she would have died in prison, but he paid a few corrupt guards to smuggle them out of the prisons and the prison doctor to sign their death certificates.”

“Mary would’ve come for me.”

“Where did you go after she died?”

“Prison, then I left the District.”

“How would she have found you?”

“She wouldn’t’ve, I suppose, but her brother never mentioned hearing from her. I’m sure he’d’ve told me. We’ve met many times since…”

“I doubt she would have been able to contact either of you. She would have moved to another city and taken another name, and I know that you could not have read her letter even if she sent one and you somehow obtained it.”

“She couldn’t’ve written one.”

“If she survived, she would have found work in whatever city she found herself. I doubt she would have made enough money to be able to afford to return to Bridgeton. Besides which, Bridgeton is a very large city, and you would have been a very difficult man to find because you have never stayed in one place for more than a few months at a time. Even if she did return, she probably would not have been able to find you. I will write him a letter. He kept excellent records, and he hid them very well. If he helped her, I can find her for you.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

“When did you start using words like ‘appreciate’?”

“Since I learned to read, maybe. Since I became a knight, maybe. I dunno.”

“You sound so much like your father. Jack is very proud of you, I am certain. He has always wanted a son who is similar to him, someone he can respect. I doubt that he will ever have as much respect for his sons by Maire as he has for you. They will come of age having been raised in a privileged world. You come from the same humble roots as he does. Jason will likely be very devoted to Maire while having all of Jack’s vices. He is very wild and stubborn already, and he is only a small child. John, on the other hand, will probably be ill his whole life. I doubt he will succeed at any physical pursuits, and Jack believes strongly in martial ideals. Maire believes that John is exceptionally intelligent for his age, but he is very small and has many infirmities. You are quite likely to remain Jack’s favorite son.”

“Where, exactly, is he?”

“He is in a pub around the corner having lunch, an establishment called The Broken Bottle. That is where he always waits during meetings of my generals.”

“When’ll he be back?”

“He should return shortly, but I do not know precisely when for certain. Jack is a difficult man to predict. Do you have some sort of appointment with him?”

“Nay, I jus’ came along wi’ Fitzmaurice. He wants to talk to Jack.”

“Why does he wish to speak with Jack?”

“He wants to return to battle early. I told him he may as well talk to Jack, see if ‘twon’t help.”

“He wishes to return to battle before his eye is fully healed?”

“Aye.”

“What did Colonel Callahan say about this?”

“He said no.”

“He is sensible. Captain Fitzmaurice is being rash, in my opinion. He is quite young, and he lacks the experience to be more logical in his decisions.”

“Ye ought to see what ‘tis doin’ to him, though.”

“It is rather difficult to avoid that particular observation. He is currently asleep on my bed after consuming far to much alcohol for his level of tolerance, which he ought to know. He has been an adult by Vampiric society’s standards for a decade.”

“He’s not like Jack an’ me. He’s not a bad man. He ain’t even dishonest. He’s like a child, really. I don’ like seein’ him doin’ this to hisself. I’ve ne’er seen him hit the bottle this hard.”

“To me, you are all very young. You do not know what it is like to be truly old, though I certainly hope that you get the chance to experience it. I doubt that Captain Fitzmaurice will destroy himself the way you and Jack do and always have done. He has Sergeant Barrett to keep him safe.”

“What d’ye mean?”

“The worst thing that he will do is to drink himself to sleep. He is not a violent man by nature.”

“I’ve seen him slaughter fifteen Werewolvish officers by hisself without so much as noticin’ they was ever alive.”

“That is his job. He does not seek fights or find solace in vice. He is not a rakehell. I have no doubts that he will be alright when he returns to battle.”

“But ye said he’s bein’ rash askin’ to go back early.”

“He is.”

“How can it be rash if ‘twould help.”

“He needs to learn to wait. He is not a patient man, though few men are. Man men do not learn from their mistakes the first time, or even the second or third. Your father has made the same foolish mistakes many times, yet he has not learned anything from them, as have you. The best hope one may have is that another might be spared some of the harshest trials.”

“Miss Kerrigan, I’ve been wonderin’, can ye see the future?”

“I cannot.”

“Then how d’ye know what’ll happen.”

“I do not know for certain what will happen. I could not tell you how much it will snow this winter, if you will die in battle, or when and where a crime will occur. I am no diviner. I can, however, observe people. I see patterns. I know what has happened before, and I know how a certain person reacts to a series of given situations. From that knowledge, I can deduce what will likely happen to a person in a likely scenario if nothing changes drastically. Anyone can do it if they pay careful attention to detail. It is merely logic, nothing more.”

“Give me an example.”

“Very well, we shall discuss Private Callahan. He always feels the need to prove himself, and he is greatly frustrated that his meritorious deeds go unnoticed. He is young and quite immature. He buries his frustrations in liquor, which only makes him more fearless and determined. He continually puts himself into increasingly risky situations for attention. If this pattern does not stop, he will eventually be seriously injured or killed in the line of duty. If that is not his fate, the alcohol will almost certainly do serious damage to his body over time. His rank will also remain low for a long time unless he either matures or does something foolish enough to be considered heroic.”

“We all drink.”

“Private Callahan drinks more than your realize. I have seen him return from battle drunk. I know that drinking hard liquor is forbidden until after the battle is done for the day, except by those determined to be too ill or injured to participate in battle under a doctor’s orders, and that Colonel Callahan checks everyone for the smell of liquor at muster, which logically means that he keeps liquor in his water skin and drinks it during battle. He also has a small still of his own, and he drinks by the gallon. It is somewhat disturbing how quickly he has built a tolerance, though I do suppose it runs in his family, to some extent.”

“I never realized…”

“Nobody has. Nobody wants to see the less pleasant aspects in the people they see daily, especially if they are the people upon whom they must put a great deal of trust for protection.”

“So what’ll happen to Fitzmaurice?”

“He will soon argue with Miss Barrett.”

“How d’ye know?”

“It is late in the afternoon. It will soon be nightfall, and he is soundly asleep here. She will be displeased with his presence here, and she will surely wake him and complain that he is reckless. They will argue about whether that is or is not true, since they are both very stubborn, thus, neither will concede. She will return to her unit tonight. He will spend a few days drinking expensive whiskey and swearing that he will never again associate himself with a woman, but then he will return to battle. When he does, he will certainly run back to her and beg her forgiveness. I have no doubts that she will forgive him. He does not realize how much she loves him.”

“For the sex.”

“Liam, I was not referring to that aspect of their relationship. I do not know Emily Barrett intimately, but I was her personal matchmaker. She wrote me a letter asking me to find a good man for her, and I found Captain Fitzmaurice and ensured that they would meet. She knows what she wants. She wanted a man who would understand her motivations and her drive to succeed. She also wanted a man who could hold his own in a conversation with her, someone who would not back away from her for fear of offending her. She was seeking just such a man, and I can see how much she truly cares about him.”

“Why’d she ask ye if ye don’t know her well?”

“She asked me because I know many of the gentlemen of society. She is a soldier by choice, not by necessity. She has a vast family fortune, and she did not want a man to love her for her money and looks alone.”

“I’m sure she likes the sex too.”

“That is none of our business, Liam Shepherd.”

“The two o’ them are always in the tent in the woods together.”

“I shall not continue this conversation. It is most disrespectful and improper, and it reflects poorly upon yourself. Did I not teach you manners?”

“Ye did.”

“Use them please.”

Liam pauses and asks, “Where the fuck’s Jack?”

“I have begun to ponder about his location as well. He is well behind schedule to return.”

“Should I go find him?”

“No, I will go. He will listen to me. Stay here with Captain Fitzmaurice. If Sergeant Barrett arrives before I return, make haste to find me. I need to speak with her,” Kerrigan says as she dons her overcoat. She walks briskly down the road and around the corner, stopping at a bar called The Broken Bottle. Inside, she finds Jack and Generals Callahan and Malone drinking together in a booth by the window. Kerrigan sits next to Jack and drinks directly from the bottle of whiskey that the men are sharing, looking up at Jack in silence.

“What’re ye doin’ here, Kerrigan?” asks Jack.

“You have visitors.”

“Can’t ye deal wi’ that yourself?”

“No, Jack, they must speak with you personally.”

“Tell ‘em I’m busy.”

“That is not an option.”

“Tell ‘em I’ll do whatever it is they want later.”

“That is also not an option.”

“Ye’ll think o’ somethin’.”

“Jack, you are obligated to meet with them. One of them is your son. General Callahan, General Malone, you are both welcome to join us. This errand will not take very long.”

The four of them return to the cabin, where Liam has woken Captain Fitzmaurice, who has started drinking again, even though Liam warned him that he has already had enough for the remainder of the evening. Jack greets Liam, and the Captains exchange salutes with the Generals. The men exchange pleasantries and talk about women, weapons, and whiskey as if Kerrigan is not there. Meanwhile, unnoticed, she begins to cook dinner for eight, realizing that Sergeant Barrett does not know the geography of Crosspoint very well, being that she is not allowed to travel to the city alone unless she is on leave, and will probably ask Doctor Sparrow to help her find Captain Fitzmaurice. She hopes that they will arrive around the same time that the steaks are cooked to the men’s liking. The conversation remains lighthearted until Jack begins to wonder why he was summoned to the cabin.

“So, Liam, why’d ye come to see me?”

“’Twasn’t me. ‘Twas Fitzmaurice what wanted to see ye.”

“Fitzmaurice?”

“Aye, Fitzmaurice.”

“Why does he need me?”

“Sor,” begins Captain Fitzmaurice, “me colonel’s got me out o’ combat. He’s taken me guns away an’ won’t even let me fire at targets. I did nothin’ wrong. I’m not a danger to meself or anyone in the unit. I ain’t even injured that bad, an’ I can’t take no more o’ this. Can’t ye order him to let me back in?”

“Not in good conscience,” replies Jack.

“General Callahan, he’s your son,” states Captain Fitzmaurice.

“That he is,” answers General Callahan.

“Can’t ye talk to him?”

“I could, however, ye’re in no fit state to return to combat. How much longer are ye out?”

“Three days ‘til I’m checked.”

“Stay sober. I know ye’ve nothin’ to do meanwhile, but I’ll get him to give your guns back so ye can at least shoot targets, so long’s ye promise me ye won’t off yourself.”

“I won’t, sor.”

“If they wants ye out any longer, come find me, an’ I’ll order ye back in.”

“Thankee, sor.”

“Me son’s fond o’ ye both. I’d hate to see him lose either one o’ ye.”

A few minutes later, Doctor Sparrow and Sergeant Barrett arrive from their lengthy pursuit of Captain Fitzmaurice through the bleak, rainy streets of Crosspoint in the bitterly cold October evening. They arrive to Kerrigan’s announcement that dinner is served and that they are certainly welcome to join Jack, Liam, Captain Fitzmaurice, Generals Callahan and Malone, and herself. Kerrigan serves everyone steak, mushrooms, and potatoes, and they eat in silence for fear of offending her with bickering or bawdy conversation. The Generals and Jack would be likely to offend her with bawdy tales or their past glories. Captain Fitzmaurice and Sergeant Barrett do not dare to argue during dinner. Doctor Sparrow never mentions medical topics while people are eating, for fear that they will be disgusted by them. Liam focuses solely on the fact that he is being fed, since he spent so many years starving and fighting for every meal. Kerrigan knows that her presence and formality, despite the very informal setting, makes everyone uncomfortable enough to be silent, but she does not lament this because it also prevents any arguments from erupting for the duration of the meal. Almost immediately after dinner, Jack, Liam, and the two Generals leave to spend the evening in The Broken Bottle. With them gone, Sergeant Barrett begins to argue with Captain Fitzmaurice about a promise he made to her to return to camp by nightfall. She has quite a temper when provoked and sees herself as Captain Fitzmaurice’s equal in their relationship, though he is her superior in rank. She is not a submissive woman. She is, instead, fiercely independent and strong-willed. This attracted Captain Fitzmaurice to her, but it also causes some hardships for them.

“What’re ye doin’ still about town?”

“I came to see Jack. I was invited to dinner.”

“Ye’re full o’ shite! Ye’re feckin’ fluthered.”

“I ain’t denyin’ the latter.”

“I try to help, but ye just disregard everythin’ I say an’ go off drinkin’ from dawn ‘til dusk.”

“I’m not ignorin’ ye!”

“But ye are shoutin’ at me.”

“I’m sorry, but ye’re drivin’ me to it, woman!”

“I’ve had enough! Goodbye, Captain.”

“But-”

“Goodbye.”

“I don’ even care no more, bitch!”

Sergeant Barrett leaves, followed by Kerrigan, and Captain Fitzmaurice starts drinking again. Doctor Sparrow stays for a while, but he must eventually leave to meet the supply train, and Captain Fitzmaurice is too unsteady on his feet to go with him. Captain Fitzmaurice, drinking alone in a strange cabin well into the night, eventually falls asleep on Kerrigan’s bed. Kerrigan is the first to return, well after Captain Fitzmaurice has fallen asleep, after having spent the evening drinking in a small tavern called The Tabby Cat with Sergeant Barrett and discussing Captain Fitzmaurice’s personality, faults, mistakes, and motivations. Kerrigan removes Captain Fitzmaurice’s overcoat, which he never removed, despite having been in the cabin for several hours, and shoes, hanging the coat on a peg in the wall and putting the shoes on the floor below it. She then tucks him into bed and puts his whiskey bottle and glasses on the bedside table. Jack eventually returns to the cabin supported by Generals Callahan and Malone. Kerrigan runs into the street to meet them, urging Jack to hush, lest he wake Captain Fitzmaurice, who needs to rest. Once Jack is asleep, Kerrigan takes his empty trunk out from under his bed and makes a bed for herself inside of it. She falls asleep quickly out of sheer exhaustion.

In the middle of the night, a horse trotting down the narrow cobblestone street wakes Captain Fitzmaurice from his slumber. He jumps out of bed and reaches for his guns, forgetting where he is. Panicked, he fumbles in the dark for his glasses, knocking the whiskey bottle off of the table. Once he finds his glasses, he looks around and, seeing Jack asleep in the other bed, realizes where he is and remembers that Colonel Callahan still has his guns. He looks around again, wondering why Kerrigan is seemingly nowhere to be found, and, when he sees her asleep in the trunk, he realizes that he must have fallen asleep on her bed. Then he remembers fighting with Emily Barrett and watching her storm away. Suddenly, the sadness of losing her overwhelms him, and he wants his whiskey bottle, which, in his panic, fell to the floor and rolled under Jack’s bed. He is still the child whose mother left him to fend for himself before he could walk, whose brothers beat him, and whose sister left him to die on more than one occasion. Now, it is Emily Barrett who is abandoning him when he needs her comfort the most. He can only rely on his oldest friend, Brendan Sparrow, to be there for him, though Brendan led his Emmy to him, knowing how displeased she would be. There is only one other whom he can trust. Only whiskey has never betrayed or abandoned him. It is his true friend and his comfort.

He cannot leave Kerrigan where she is, so he lifts her tiny frame effortlessly into the bed and pulls the blankets up to her shoulders, tucking her into the covers as if she were a child. He sees her smile, comforted by the warmth left in his wake, and he smiles in return, content that he has finally done something that has not caused any pain or suffering. Jack rolls over in his own uneasy, drunken sleep, and, woken by the sound of the creaking wooden door, he watches Captain Fitzmaurice hasten forth into the foggy night unbeknownst to the Captain, who notices nothing outside of his thoughts. When silence settles over the cabin again, Jack rolls onto his other side and goes back to sleep while Captain Fitzmaurice races back to camp. He does not stop in his own tent or that of Doctor Sparrow. None of the men on watch see him return. He did not have his horse with him in town, so he can sneak into the forest unnoticed. The faraway church bells in town chime three o’clock, their sound carrying for miles in the silence of the early morning hours, and Captain Fitzmaurice falls asleep in a pile of soft leaves, not far from the still, the gentle sounds of the nearby stream singing him a lullaby. He sleeps the peaceful sleep of the innocent and the very drunk, being the latter, and he is nowhere to be found in the morning when the unit musters.

The Thirteenth Bridgeton must report to battle an hour after dawn breaks. They saunter into breakfast and muster immediately thereafter, arriving at the location assigned to them for the day shortly thereafter. Colonel Callahan asks Captain Boland if Captain Fitzmaurice returned the previous night and receives a negative reply. Liam mentions where they went the day before and that he returned alone late at night, having left Captain Fitzmaurice in the cabin shortly after dinner, and Colonel Callahan asks Liam to take a horse and go to town to see if he can locate Captain Fitzmaurice there. Liam has no horse of his own, and Captain Fitzmaurice is extremely possessive about his things, from his guns to his girlfriend to his horse, plus which, his horse has a history of bucking unfamiliar riders, so letting Liam ride The Admiral is not an option. Colonel Callahan’s own horse, a large, powerful, brown stallion, is offered as an alternative, since he has an even temper and is both fast and available. Colonel Callahan sends his men to battle without him, leaving his brother, Major Brendan Callahan in charge of the unit, since such an absence must be resolved quickly. Liam takes the Colonel’s horse to town, but he learns from Kerrigan that Captain Fitzmaurice disappeared sometime in the early morning hours. Liam goes from pub to pub asking the owners of the few locations operating at such an unusual hour if they saw Captain Fitzmaurice at any time throughout the morning, and none have seen him.

Liam returns to camp having had no luck in finding Captain Fitzmaurice. After telling Colonel Callahan about Captain Fitzmaurice’s argument with Sergeant Barrett, Colonel Callahan sends Liam to her unit, where he finds no answers. Colonel Callahan brings Captain Fitzmaurice’s guns to Doctor Sparrow for safekeeping until Captain Fitzmaurice’s whereabouts are known after reading the urgent message that arrived four hours earlier detailing a direct order to return Captain Fitzmaurice’s weapons to him immediately. Doctor Sparrow puts them in Captain Fitzmaurice’s footlocker. Colonel Callahan ventures to the still himself, afraid of what he might find there. He finds Captain Fitzmaurice still asleep among the leaves, dressed in his civilian attire but lacking shoes or an overcoat , a half-empty bottle of poitín in his hand. Colonel Callahan places the bottle by the still and easily lifts Captain Fitzmaurice to carry him back to camp. Doctor Sparrow determines that he has a fever and orders bed rest. Colonel Callahan hesitates to put him in the tent where the other Captains will return, so he brings him to his own tent, which is dark, warm, and quiet, and puts him to be in a nightshirt brought by Doctor Sparrow. The Colonel sits silently by his bedside, pondering the situation until he wakes.

At noon, Captain Fitzmaurice wakes, moaning and clutching his head. Colonel Callahan helps him to the latrine and tells him to get the last of the alcohol out of his system. He the brings him to the stream to bathe and shave and back to camp to don a clean nightshirt for the time being and to fetch his uniform. He then gives the Captain cider, pressed for dinner the night before, meaning that it has not had time to ferment, and a small lunch. He will give him no hard liquor, though he gives him aspirin to ease the pain of his headache and that caused by his having slept on the ground for so many hours, as well as to reduce his fever from his exposure to the bitterly cold night air.

“Why didn’t ye come back last night, Captain?”

“Passed out.”

“Were ye drinkin’?”

“I was, but I never meant for it to get out o’ hand.”

“Why did it?”

“I-I-”

“I know ye were fightin’ wi’ Sergeant Barrett. Doctor Sparrow told me. I jus’ want to hear it from your own mouth.”

“We were? That’s news to me. All I remember is I started drinkin’ in town, an’ I woke up here.”

“I found ye at the still. How’d ye get there? Ye didn’t return wi’ Liam or Doctor Sparrow.”

“I must’ve walked back at some point. I don’ remember doin’ it, though.”

“I’m not mad. I ought to flog ye for disappearin’ like that, but I understand. I’ve no idea what I’d do if me wife left me. Ye didn’t mean no harm. I know that. Jus’ don’ do it again, ye hear?”

“Aye, sor.”

“Any other colonel’d demote ye, beat ye,an’ leave it at that. Ye’re lucky, Fitzmaurice.”

“I know, sor.”

“I forget ye’re not that old sometimes.”

“Sure, I’m older’n ye, amn’t I?”

“Not by much. What I mean is that I forget ye’re not as old as, say, me father, or Liam, or Senatorial General Shepherd.”

“Thanks…”

“I didn’t mean it like that. What I meant is ye’re smart, perhaps smarter’n anyone I know, an’ ye went through a lot as a child, but ye grew up too fast, an’ at the same time, ye never grew up a’ ‘tall. Ye taught yourself right from wrong, an’ ye learned the ways o’ the streets ‘afore ye even knew their names. No one can teach ye nothin’. At the same time, ye’re jus’ a boy when it comes to other things. Ye play little tricks like a child, an’ ye don’ know how to lose, whether it’s a bet or your girl. An’, like I said, no one can teach ye nothin’. ‘Swhy ye’re not a major yet. Ye’re overconfident. Ye’ve an ego like I’ve scarce seen ‘afore, an’ ye jus’ don’ listen. Ye also talk like ye’re better’n us. Maybe ye are. I dunno.”

“I don’t mean to.”

“I jus’ wanted to tell ye I can’t fault ye for a mistake. I know ye didn’t mean to desert. Perhaps I’m too lenient wi’ ye, but I won’t ruin your career for an accident.”

“Why are ye bein’ so kind, sor?”

“Because I know I’m a bit hard on ye at times, an’ because ye’ve taught me a thing or two over the years ye’ve been here. Perhaps that fancy education was worth somethin’ or perhaps ye’re jus’ one stubborn bastard who don’ know when to back down. I dunno. I got a letter t’other day from another colonel farther up the line. His senior officers is mostly new guys, real young. They’re gettin’ men killed left an’ right. Made me realize how lucky I am to have such good officers. It could just as easily be me.”

“Why not transfer officers from other units?”

“That’s what they’ll do.”

“Am I goin’?”

“No.”

“Someone else from this unit?”

“No. They asked for ye. Ye were the on’y one from this unit they wanted. I fought it hard. They wanted to take ye from us an’ make ye a major.”

“I’d’ve liked that.”

“Ye wouldn’t’ve. Colonel’s a bit of an eejit. Real young. Twenty, maybe. Jus’ made colonel.”

“How?”

“Everyone else left or died. He’s the senior member o’ the unit. He’s a lieutenant playin’ colonel, at best. He wouldn’t even be a good lieutenant in me own opinion. I’ve corporals who’d make better colonels’n him. Ye’re too old by far. The average age in the unit is jus’ eighteen. Oh, an’ did I mention ‘tis Heavy Artillery, an’ no women allowed in camp a’ ‘tall, colonel’s rule. Far up the line, so no sergeant Barrett, real heavy fire, an’ ye’re not trained for cannon.”

“Ye’re right. I’d hate that. Not sure I’d miss Sergeant Barrett any more there than here, though.”

“Take it from a married man, she’ll be back.”

“I dunno if I want her back.”

“Ye will. She’s meant for you.”

“What makes ye say that?”

“Everyone says it. Doctor Sparrow, me father, Liam, captain Boland…even Sergeant Barrett.”

“She said-”

“Aye. She did.”

“Probably doesn’t think so anymore…”

“I’ll bet she does. Give it time. Say, are ye feelin’ any better?”

“A little. Why?”

“D’ye want to go shootin’ wi’ me? We’ll take Liam an’ the Doctor. Teach ‘em a thing or two. I’ve a new gun I want your opinion on.”

“Sure. Does Liam even have a gun?”

“He’s an old shotgun in his footlocker. He don’t use it much since ‘tis expensive to buy the shot for it. I got him some.”

“Did ye-”

“I requisitioned it.”

“I thought we couldn’t requisition manufactured shot packages, jus’ bullets for pistols an’ rifles. I thought on’y artillery can requisition shot. They let ye?”

“I won a game o’ cards for the ability to requisition it through an artillery colonel. He orders a little extra, an’ I get what he don’ need.”

“But what did ye bet?”

“I bet yourself.”

“I thought ye said ye fought me transfer.”

“I did, but I never said how. He wanted ye, an’ I wanted to be able to requisition shot. He’s got shot, but he’s in dire straits wi’ no decent officers.”

“Ye’d gamble me away?”

“’Twas a very safe bet. He was drunk near unconsciousness, an’ I was cheatin’. There was never any doubt I’d win.”

“That ain’t right.”

“Ye’re still here, ain’t ye? If I’d not bet ye, he’d request ye from the higher-ups, an’ I couldn’t’ve kept ye here if they decided they wanted ye to go. I’d on’y have me father to rely upon.”

“Still, that ain’t right.”

“Let’s go shoot.”

“Where are me guns?”

“I gave ‘em to Doctor Sparrow. I think he put ‘em in your footlocker.”

Captain Fitzmaurice jumps out of bed far too quickly for his hangover to handle, runs to Doctor Sparrow’s tent, and shots, “How’d ye get the combination to me footlocker!?”

“Calm yourself. ‘Twasn’t hard. ‘Tis our birthday.”

“True. Ye didn’t tell anyone, did ye?”

“Not a soul.”

“Colonel wants to go shoot.”

“Enjoy.”

“He wants yourself an’ Liam to come along as well.”

“What for?”

“Shoot wi’ us.”

“Billy, I’m a doctor. I fix gunshot wounds, not cause them.”

“Bullshit.”

“Well, if someone corners me…”

“I’ve seen ye shoot targets better’n most o’ the unit can.”

“Those are targets. That’s different. They don’t bleed. They can’t die. Did he say we’d be shootin’ targets?”

“He didn’t say we wouldn’t.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll go. Not expectin’ many wounded today anyhow.”

“Why not?”

“They’re runnin’ the point, plantin’ the flag, an’ comin’ home. Not much fire up that way. The worst I expect is a few sprained ankles an’ some hurt pride, maybe one or two who couldn’t make the run or keep pace an’ got winded, certainly not much to worry about. I know Major Callahan’d set a pretty fast pace.”

“He would. Is that who’s in charge right now?”

“Aye. The Colonel took the day off to find ye.”

“Did he now?”

“He did.”

“Jaysus…”