Sho Pi said, “I do not know, Erik von Darkmoor. There is nothing you do that is obviously wrong. Yet . . . there is something. I do not know. A hesitancy, perhaps. You need to be more decisive.”
Further discussion was halted by the arrival of Corporal Foster, and the men leaped up to stand before their beds. The corporal looked around, for obviously something had been occurring just before he arrived, but nothing was obvious, so after a moment he shouted, “All right. Outside and fall in, you worms! We don’t have all morning!”
Foster stood over Billy, screaming insults at him. The prisoner looked as if he was about to leap to his feet and attack the corporal. A man in black stood not ten feet away puffing heavily from the exertion of the recently ended combat. They had been dueling, with Billy getting the upper hand, when suddenly Foster had tripped Goodwin. Then, before he could react, the corporal was standing over him as if it were Billy’s fault.
Then Foster said, “And your mother was a whore!”
As he turned away, Billy leaped to his feet. Before he could charge Foster, Erik hit him with a tackle, driving his shoulder into Billy’s waist. They went to the ground and rolled, Erik using his strength and weight to keep Billy under him.
Suddenly soldiers were hauling them apart and Foster was shouting, “Here, now! What’s this about?”
Erik, blood running from his nose from one of Billy’s elbows, said, “Keeping him from doing something stupid, Corporal.”
Foster regarded Erik a moment, then said, “Right.” Turning to Billy, he said, “Going to jump me from behind, you swine? Well, how’d you like to try it from in front?” He backed away, pulling his own sword. “Let him go.”
The soldiers obeyed and Billy stood with his own weapon ready. Then Biggo stepped between him and the corporal. “Wouldn’t be smart for Billy, would it, Corporal, what with those lads on the wall unlimbering their bows, and all, would it?”
Billy glanced up and saw that a pair of longbowmen had strung their weapons and nocked arrows, and were watching closely.
“Stand away, Biggo, you overblown pile of cow dung!” commanded Foster. “I’m going to cut a few pieces off this dogmeat.”
Luis came over to stand next to Biggo, with Sho Pi a step behind. Roo joined them, and Erik shook off the two soldiers who held him and joined the other five.
“What’s this—mutiny?” shouted Foster.
“No,” answered Sho Pi. “Just trying to keep the situation from becoming dangerous.”
“I’ll have that man hung!” shouted Foster as Robert de Loungville approached to see what was occurring.
Biggo said, “Then I think you should hang us all.”
Robert de Loungville said, “What’s this, then? Volunteering to go back to the gibbet?”
Biggo turned and with an affable smile said, “Sergeant, if one of us is to be hung for thinking we’d like to murder the good corporal, then you’d better hang us all, because we all think it at least a dozen times a day. And I’d rather you get it over with now than make us work for another week at this soldier drilling; I’m kind of tired of it. With all respect, Sergeant.”
De Loungville raised his eyebrows in surprise. “This man speaking for you all?”
They looked from one to another. Then Erik said, “I think that’s the way it is, sir.”
Suddenly de Loungville was standing nose to nose with Biggo, having to rise up on his toes to accomplish the feat. “You’re not being told to think! What makes you imagine we care what you think? If you’re thinking, that means you have too much time on your hands. I can fix that.”
Turning to the two guards who had held Erik a moment before, he said, “We need the stables swept. Get these murderous dogs down there and have them pick up everything they find! And I don’t want them dirtying perfectly good brooms and pitchforks! They can pick everything up by hand! Now move them out!”
The two soldiers motioned for the prisoners to fall in and quick-marched them out of sight. As they vanished, Foster looked at de Loungville and said, “I think it’s starting to work, Bobby.”
De Loungville scratched his chin as he pondered. “I don’t know. We’ll see. But it had better. We’re going south shorthanded and I’d hate to have to hang this lot the day before we sail.”
Foster said, “If Billy Goodwin didn’t cut my throat for calling his mother a whore—she was, but he’s touchy about it—then I think he’s learning. And the way they stuck up for him.”
De Loungville nodded. “Maybe you’re right. Or maybe they’re being clever. We’ll have to see, won’t we?”
Without waiting for an answer, he turned and headed back to the command building.
10
Transition
The alarm sounded.