‘Cor, but I was bloody rarin’ to charge in there and give those Russians what for!’ he growled. ‘I cannae believe old Raglan denied us the chance tae christen our lances and sabres!’
‘Dunnae be too eager for a fight,’ Paul countered dryly as he stretched his arms and cracked his knuckles. ‘I’m no’ quite ready tae give up this life fir Queen an’ country just yet. I quite enjoy the feeling ay being alive, I dae. And believe you me, I saw just how many ay our infantry boys were shot down by the Russians out on the Alma today. I dunnae how much I fancy my luck against a volley ay musket balls or an explodin’ artillery shell. It is, after all, a matter ay luck, is it not?’
‘You’re soundin’ like a bloody yellow-bellied meater, you are!’ Michael growled. ‘It’s about courage! It’s about fearlessness in the face ay mortal danger, an’ having a strong, unwavering sword arm! That’s what’ll get you through an’ make a man out ay you!’
‘Pish! It’s blind luck an’ nowt else,’ Paul muttered as he pulled his boots off with a sigh and flopped down onto his bunk. ‘God casts his die an’ one ay them musket balls either misses you or takes you. D’you really think the Russian infantryman is gonnae say, “oh look at tha’ lad, he’s a brave one, I’ll no’ shoot tha’ one from his mount, no, I’ll take a shot at tha’ there cowardly lookin’ chap instead!”, d’you honestly think he’ll say that tae himself? Ay course he bloody well won’t, he’ll pick out whatever British trooper is in firin’ range, and bloody fire on tha’ one! It’s luck, boyo, nowt else. Blind bloody luck.’
Michael shook his head and folded his arms with an aggressive huff.
‘That’s the voice ay selfish cowardice speakin’,’ he spat. ‘An’ it makes me ashamed tae call you “friend”, Paul. Bah! What about you, Will? I know you’re no’ the best swordsman ay this regiment, but dunnae tell me you share in this bastard’s yellow-bellied cowardice? Christ almighty, you joined the 17th wi’ the hope ay becoming an officer, boyo! An officer’s nowt wi’out raw, unshakeable courage!’
Andrew, who had been playing guitar all the while, stopped strumming and answered before William could.
‘Of course our Will’s got courage,’ he said in his soft-spoken tone. ‘He’s as brave as a lion, he is, and quite frankly, I’m surprised you’re even askin’, Mikey. We all know tha’ he’s the bravest ay the lot, don’t we?’
Andrew looked back at William and gave him a wink and a warm smile, and then resumed plucking on the guitar strings.
William grinned nervously as he spoke.
‘Aye! Let me have at those Russians!’ he said, a little too boisterously. ‘I’ll charge right out ahead ay the squadron an’ smash through their ranks all on me lonesome, I will!’
‘That’s the bloody spirit!’ Michael roared. ‘Now where’s Watty? I know he’s smuggled some rum intae the tent, and I’ve got a bleedin’ thirst that needs a quenchin’!’
‘Chrikey, tha’ lout’s your new best mate then, is he?’ Paul grumbled.
‘Sod off, Pauly! Watty’s a bloody sound lad!’
Paul sighed, and an expression of icy disdain cooled his features.
‘So tha’s how you talk now, eh Mikey? Well, I’m no’ surprised. You’ve been sounding more an’ more like tha’ “sound lad” ay yours wi’ every passing day. And in case you missed it, tha’s not a compliment, boyo.’
Michael turned around to face Paul, his jaw set with a bristling anger and his knuckles glowing with the heat of freshly fired musket balls on the ends of his fists. Paul sat up in his bunk and glared at Michael.
‘What’s this now, Mikey? You’re gonnae gi’ us a clobberin’, are you?’
‘Mikey, Paul, come on then lads, come on now,’ William said in a deliberately calm and conciliatory tone, springing up from his cot and hurrying over to the pair of them to break up the fight before it erupted. His efforts were too late, however – Michael’s blood was already boiling, and Paul’s temper was now riled up beyond any hope of reprieve.
‘Stay out ay this!’ Michael growled, shoving William back with excessive force.
William flew back, tripped over a footstool and crashed to the ground in a heap. In response, Paul lunged forward, grabbing Michael’s collar with his left hand, and he cocked his right fist to strike a blow.
‘Dunnae lay your damned hands on Will, Mikey! Dunnae touch him again! I’ve had about enough ay your soddin’ rubbish!’
‘Get yer hands off ay me right now Pauly,’ Michael snarled, his eyes aflame with aggression, ‘or I’ll break your bleedin’ nose!’
‘What on earth is the meaning of this?!’
A new voice slashed through the tension of the moment, filling the space of the tent with the sharpness of its accusation.
William and Andrew immediately scrambled to their feet and saluted, and then stood at attention.
‘Captain Liversage, sir!’ Andrew and William barked in unison.
Captain Liversage stepped into the tent and glared at Michael and Paul, his green eyes burning in their sockets with the intensity of two lumps of molten metal pulled fresh from a forge.
‘Unhand one another at once!’ he snapped.
Michael and Paul lowered their hands meekly and looked at the ground, not daring to speak.
‘Do you not stand to attention in the presence of an officer?!’
Both immediately saluted and stood at attention. Paul swallowed slowly; anxiety was writ plain across his face. Michael’s hard-featured face sported a look of defiance, but it was tempered with a heavy dose of guilt and embarrassment.
‘I ought to have the pair of you flogged!’ Captain Liversage spat, his voice thick with contempt and disdain. ‘The enemy is across the hills there, and yet you two idiots are going at each other here in our camp! You’re a disgrace to the regiment! Are you two intoxicated? Are you?! Tell me at once! And if either of you
