Watson knew that they were right, so he just howled gutturally in a tempest of impotent frustration.
‘What’s going on ‘ere, then?’ asked a gravelly voice from the darkness beyond the campfire.
‘Smythe!’ Paul shouted. ‘Come over here an’ help us wi’ Watson. He’s blind drunk, an’ he’s been fightin’.’
Private Smythe stepped out of the shadows into the orange light thrown out from the campfire. He looked at Watson, who was growling and still trying to struggle against Michael’s hold, and exhaled a long sigh of disapproval.
‘Watty, Watty, Watty,’ he said with a roll of his eyes. ‘What on earth are we going to do wiff you, then?’
‘These fookin’ meaters, they fookin’—’
‘Hush, hush now m’ lad,’ Smythe interrupted. ‘Whatever nonsense has gone on ‘ere is done, and I’ve got no desire whatsoever to ‘ear about it, like. I’m going to take you down to our tent, an’ you can sleep it off, right? Word is we’re going to ‘ave a bright an’ early start tomorrow, so you’ll need some rest.’
‘But they fookin’—’
‘Not another word, Watty. Otherwise I’ll just keep on’ walking and leave that big lad sat on you all night.’
Watson huffed and spat, but he knew that he had no other option now.
‘If I let you go, are you gonnae attack me?’ Michael asked.
‘No,’ Watson mumbled through gritted teeth.
‘What was tha’ then? I didnae quite hear you.’
‘No, I won’t!’ Watson spat, his face red with a blistering concoction of anger, intoxication and shame, and covered liberally with blood, grit and leaves. ‘I won’t bleedin’ attack you! Now get your fookin’ fat self off o’ me!’
‘You’d best keep your word, boyo,’ Michael said threateningly. ‘There’s five ay us here now against one ay you. Those odds are no’ in your favour.’
‘Just bloody get off me!’
Michael released Watson from his hold and got up cautiously, keeping his eyes on the big man as he did, and then Private Smythe stepped over and helped his friend up. He draped his Watson’s arm over his shoulder and then began to hobble off, half-dragging the huge man, who at this stage was too inebriated to even stay upright.
‘Thanks Smythe!’ Michael called out after them. ‘I’ll bring that bastard’s sword over tae your tent before we go tae sleep.’
‘Have a good night, boys!’ Smythe shouted in response as he and Watson melted into the darkness. ‘There may well be a battle on the morrow, so get yourselves some sound shut-eye!’
The men settled around the fire, with Michael and William dusting themselves off. William’s jaw ached with a dull, persistent throbbing from the heavy punch Watson had landed, and he rubbed at it gingerly, wincing every now and then as his fingers brushed the epicentre of the pain.
Andrew put down Watson’s sword and picked up his guitar and resumed playing, plucking the strings in a gentle and tragic melody as the others started to talk.
‘You gave Watty a damned good trouncing, Will,’ said Michael, who seemed to be genuinely impressed. ‘You’ve come leaps an’ bounds in your swordsmanship since the days you were fumbling about in the training yard.’
‘Aye,’ Paul added. ‘You’d best me wi’out much effort, I’d wager. You’d probably even give ol’ Mikey here a tough time!’
‘That lout was blind drunk,’ William said, blushing suddenly with humility. ‘Any one ay you could ha’ bested him wi’out breakin’ a sweat.’
‘Dunnae be so modest, Will!’ Michael exclaimed, punching William playfully on his shoulder. ‘Aye, Watty was off his arse, but even so he’s one tough blighter, an’ he’s good wi’ a sabre. You stayed cool an’ focused when he came fir you, an’ you moved wi’ astoundin’ speed. Whatever Captain Liversage has been teachin’ you, well, it’s workin’. I’d no’ want tae face you in battle, not these days wi’ your newfound sabre skills.’
‘I didnae enjoy it,’ William countered abruptly. ‘I took no pleasure in defeating Watty. More than anything, I felt pity fir the poor bastard. I didnae want tae hurt him … or did I? When I was caught up in the moment ay the fight, well, I think I did want tae hurt him. It was a strange an’ uncomfortable feeling. At least now I can see it as such, I mean. In the fight, I stayed focused, like how the captain has been training me tae. But I suppose part ay that focus is about finishing off your opponent as quickly as possible, an’ that’s what was on my mind while we were going at it. Aye, I really could ha’ taken out the bastard’s eye wi’ that one stroke, but restraint held me back, so I just sliced his cheek open instead.’
‘‘Twas a deep cut, Will. He’ll be wearing that scar until the end ay his days,’ Paul commented.
William shook his head and sighed, looking down at the ground with a regretful cast in his eyes.
‘Aye, an’ I shouldnae ha’ done that, should I? I could ha’ just slapped his face wi’ the flat ay the blade an’ given him but a bruise. But this thing inside me, this … this darkness, I dunnae, it made me cut him. I dunnae like it, lads.’
‘Dunnae be so hard on yersel’, Will,’ Paul said, squeezing William’s shoulder reassuringly. ‘Look, that bastard was tryin’ tae dae you serious harm. He would ay killed you, had you no defended yersel’ an’ defeated him. Any reasonable man would ha’ done the same, in your position.’
‘Paul’s right,’ Michael added, his voice heavy with sombre severity. ‘I saw it in his eyes. He wanted tae kill you, lad, he was full ay murderous rage. I dunnae think I’ve e’er seen that in a person before, an’ it scared me, it did. We’ve all seen Watty pished out ay his skull before, but this
