Now it was my turn to grit my teeth and clench my fist in utter frustration. “But what about military tactics? You can’t just put up cavalry against a strong enemy on foot…they’ll annihilate us. Where’s the infantry and artillery?” Let them do the bloody work.
This time he made no gesticulations of anger, which I was actually expecting, and instead regarded me with curiosity. “Tell me again, Captain Strapper…how many dead did you say you killed yesterday?”
A tingle shot down my back, which I could only put down as some sort of new cowardly symptom. “Oh, I don’t know…seven, eight…it really was hard to tell in the heat of battle. Perhaps you should ask Lieutenant Sheehan.”
“Huh…interesting.”
He turned his back on me, fired his shot, again hitting the bullseye before stumping away toward the stables without another word.
I primed my pistol with a quivering wreck of a hand, took careful aim and pulled the trigger, the bullet hitting the wall some distance to the side of the target to explode into dust.
Would I ever see England again?
More Tribulations
So much for being my tutor, I didn’t see or hear from Lynch until several hours afterwards, which gave me cause to suspect there were unknown reasons he was assigned to me, perhaps to feel me out, or else inspire yet more terror into me - Or maybe these people, and the dead, were making me paranoid.
It was four o’clock in the afternoon when I’d had enough of jabbing my sabre into a post and scurried toward the latrines and since I was all alone, I took the opportunity to write an angry letter to my uncle.
I demanded that he at once secure my release from the army on account of there being a war on…worse, an apocalypse, which was entirely contradictory to the terms of my initial enrolment. Further, I allowed no room for misinterpretation as to how disappointed I was with the man, who’d allowed his nephew to travel to Ireland without carrying out all necessary and prior checks as to its safety. I was in the process of sealing the letter when I heard the conversation through the open windows.
“Ah, Captain Lynch, how dee do, I see you’ve been teaching the young Strapper the tricks of the trade. There’s one for the future, what? How’s he been getting on?” As I strained my ears to eavesdrop, I recognised the good natured voice of Major Murphy.
The silence stretched for an uncomfortable period. “Been watching him…can’t seem to shoot straight, is what.” There was the strike of a match and then smoke drifted upwards through the window. “No, no, Major, allow me.”
“Ever so kind of you. Must be damned handy with a blade though, what? Not bad on a horse either, I suspect.”
Another pause. “That’s just it. There’s something that just doesn’t quite add up with the boy and I’m determined to find out.”
“Determined to find out? Oh, Captain, you are hard on the lad. Didn’t he just arrive all the way from the safety of England…he didn’t have to do that…had no reason to, yet here he is.”
A plume of dirty smoke blew in through the crack. “Oh, sure, he’s brave, that’s what everyone’s saying. But there’s something that just doesn’t sit right with him. His demeanour and manner is all off…I’ve never before seen it in a cavalryman, and I’ve trained hundreds of them.”
“Oh, Captain, I hope this isn’t merely because he wasn’t with you at the Charge, because if it is, you can count me in too on that score…bought my majority only last month…for love of country you see. Not my fault there’s not much need for teaching these days…but how I long to get back to the chalk and slate. But as for young Strapper, doesn’t Lieutenant Sheehan vouch for him? You know the lieutenant…aint he a good judge of a man?”
He hummed in agreement. “I’m just vexed about the whole thing. The man don’t even look like a cavalryman, or an officer for that matter, and here he is calling himself a cavalry officer…the same rank as me, bigod, and I’ve been with the regiment nigh on ten years. Where’s the justice in that, aye?”
“Ah, Captain Lynch, so that’s what this is all about. Well, didn’t I myself just purchase above you, so I assume you’re also bitter about my advancement on that score?”
“Yes, but you’re not swanning about like you own the damned place…on account…on account of one man’s interpretation of what he thought he saw.”
“Oh, come along now, Captain. The whole regiment knows Captain Strapper slaughtered all those dead savages, charged right at ‘em all alone, didn’t he by Jove. They say the lad was covered in blood and I’ve seen his uniform…offered the wife to clean it for him, you see. Oh, I do hope he joins us for dinner one night…would make a fine guest I’ve no doubt.” After another long silence, during which I thought they’d dispersed, Major Murphy spoke again. “I must admit…had doubts myself upon meeting him…but once you get to know the lad you’ll see the metal he’s made of…I see it…we all do…and you will too if you give it chance.”
It was interesting how you could tell who your true friends were only when you weren’t around to hear it.
IT WAS clear to me I needed allies and quick. Major Murphy was likeable and could perhaps even turn people’s opinions in my favour, but he’d be no good in a fight and I also suspected he was far too principled and trustworthy to be much fun in the meantime. Which is why I again looked to Captain Dolan and I maintain that there’s no quicker or easier method of acquainting yourself with a man, and having him feel at ease with you, than to take him out wenching to the local bawdy house.
He’d put up a token resistance, on account of being ‘a good Catholic boy,’ yet had needed only ten seconds to be persuaded. Although I did have to sub him some tin on account of him being broke after purchasing his captaincy - Some dandy information I’d store in my memory for when needed.
The harlots were much the same as you’d expect to find in England or anywhere else, Dolan and I boarding one each and I was intent on having fun tonight, on the off chance it was one of my last nights on earth.
Dolan went sweet on his wench and had to be talked out of bringing her along to the wake, which we were running late for. Indeed, I had a harder job talking him out of this latest bout of madness than convincing him to come in the first place.
“I fear I’m in love Strappy.”
I slapped my forehead and tried dragging him away. “Don’t be ridiculous, she’s had nearly every soldier in town…get a move on would you?”
He resisted me. “How can I leave her, for some other soldier to come and have her? It’ll be the end of me Strappy.”
“It’ll be the end of us both if we don’t hurry to the town hall.”
Despite this, I’d at least succeeded in corrupting him, sort of, which most likely meant he could be bent in other ways too. Either way, I had my ally, even if a lowly captain like myself.
We were late, as it happened, by over an hour. But nobody kicked up a fuss and the reason why was soon made clear.
The whole town hall was uproarious with unrestrained merriment. Even better - We’d missed the speeches and upon entering the ball room, where fiddlers were pumping their elbows like Dolan had pumped his hips an hour before, we were accosted by several jovial officers who insisted on passing around glasses of sherry.
To think I’d been dreading the event - It was my first Irish wake, you see, and I wasn’t to know it was just another excuse for the Irish to get drunk, like they ever needed an excuse.
Major Murphy later found us loitering at the bar. “Ah Jack, glad you could make it.” He gestured with his glass to the ball room floor which seemed to contain half of Londonderry society, certainly the better part of it. “There are many ideas as to the origin of the Irish wake. One belief goes that it originated from the Irish fondness for drinking stout, which stupidly we used to drink from copper mugs. Of course, the result was, everybody got poisoned.”
“Ah, this is the school teacher in you, yes?”
“School teacher?” He squinted. “I never told you I was a school teacher?”
“Oh, I mean…you look like one, that’s all.”
He nodded in appreciation of my observation. “Anyway, my point is that one of the symptoms of being poisoned was that it put you into a catatonic state, where you appeared to be dead but would then wake up after you’d been buried…terrible business, you understand?” I could imagine nothing worse. He continued, “that is why, to this day, we have friends watch over the corpse, just to make sure they don’t awaken.” He clapped me on the back. “A practice even more necessary these days, don’t you think?”
I glanced a path through the dancers toward an open door to another room where, none other than Captain Lynch now sat between two opened caskets, his blade perched menacingly over his lap. “Perhaps not so necessary, considering Lieutenant Sheehan already split both their heads open with his sabre.”
He laughed and spilt sherry over the side of his glass. “Oh, fiddlesticks…it’s tradition and makes no difference if their brains and vital organs are still out there in the woods.”
They were all mad and none more than Lynch who waited as though he expected either one of them to start breathing again at any minute.
I considered Major Murphy, his round face and spectacles, then remembered something. “I don’t mean to put a downer on your evening, but any chance your wife could finish my uniform presently? It’s just that this spare set you lent me is somewhat draughty…hangs off me a little too slack, as you can see.”
He expressed his sincere apologies, found his wife and took her home, allowing me to enjoy the evening without having to listen to stories about the origins of the Irish wake.
Where was Dolan anyway? Clearly, he’d slipped his cable over the last few minutes and I made a half hearted attempt at locating the man before giving up. He’d most likely returned to see his madam, and good luck to him.
For the next hour, I stood back with various glasses of sherry or stout as some of the more amicable officers approached to offer me their congratulations for the second or third time. It was all becoming tiresome until I began noticing I was attracting admiring glances from the ladies present. It never harms to be six foot with wide shoulders and a dashing demeanour, the cavalry whiskers of course completing the set. But I won’t lie, because it would appear that being a celebrity, albeit in a ridiculously small pond, doesn’t harm your chances either.
It was Lieutenant Sheehan who brought forth two ladies in ball dresses and stilettos, their red hair held up in elaborate buns. I’d never seen either before, but naturally, I felt lust immediately, one of them, the taller seductress reminding me of a younger Clayton’s mother.
Sheehan made the introductions and as happens so often on these occasions, neither name was absorbed into my head. But for the duration of the forthcoming conversation, I deemed to name them Frolic and Clayton respectively.
“Captain Jack Strapper, aye? The name holds such…prowess.” Clayton absolutely said with a husky voice.
“Just like his reputation.” Said Frolic, twirling her curls around a finger.
I took ahold and kissed each of their hands in turn. “Ladies, I only hope that I may aspire to live up to my name, as well as my reputation.” I surprised myself with how Etonian and gentlemanly I could sound when there was a chance there’d be something in it for me.
They giggled and Sheehan cut in. “Now ladies, enough of that, you promised that if I made the introductions you’d be on your best behaviour.” The old dog said with a twinkle in his eye.
At least one of the two wore some kind of perfume that played a devil in my head but out of the two, my choice was Clayton - Not that I was the picky sort, usually, and would take what I could. But Clayton possessed a level of demure, charm and appeal that was just hard to explain - Especially considering I’d barely spoken to her. But a man knows what a man wants and right now, it was the red headed strumpet of good breading, quite like myself, what, and right now she gave me the subtle come on signals as only a woman could whence in polite company and one had appearances to keep up, namely that of not being a tart. It was all in the lips and how she maintained my eye contact for long enough to let me know, before shyly breaking it to look to the floor whilst fanning her face. It was all small enough I could be sure nobody else noticed, as Sheehan regaled us about how I’d single handedly slaughtered ten, or was it twenty dead and that if it wasn’t for me, the rest of the troop may even now be lying in open caskets, their heads and torsos torn apart, just like Logan and Conroy.
The ladies nearly swooned at the part where I charged right at the horde, with no regard for my own safety or wellbeing. Clayton in particular went light headed upon Sheehan describing, with great verve and vivacity my trying, albeit in vain, to save the lives of the two dead troopers, quite an embellishment, myself sustaining an injury in the process.
“Oh, Lieutenant, you do exaggerate,” I said coyly, which only served to draw them in further.
“And what did I tell you, ladies? He’s modest too, he won’t hear any of it, but I fear I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for the heroics of this fine man.” His eyes were watering again, just like they were in the woods. Oh, you poor fool you - If only you knew the truth.
Clayton had over the course of Sheehan’s story, somehow positioned herself so close to me, I could identify the little vixen as the source of the perfume, which even now caused me no end of problems. “Captain, I do hope that sometime, I could hear the story regaled from your point of view. It must be somewhat different told from the eye of the protagonist.”
I gave a shallow bow of my head in affirmation. “Your servant, ma’am, alas, I fear my story telling abilities placed next to Lieutenant Sheehan’s will be like comparing chalk to cheese, a beautiful woman to a common whore.”
I sensed Sheehan twitch but neither lady minded my unintentionally crass compliment and I was about to suggest that Sheehan go mind the caskets, just to ensure they didn’t, um, wake up when something horrific happened.
“Ah, there you are Georgette…been looking all over for you, what?” Colonel Fitzgibbon said to Clayton, threading a hand inside her elbow, whilst nodding curtly to Sheehan and regarding me with indifference. “This way, my dear, time to go…had just about enough of the tomfoolery.” He shouted in his usual style, looking back over his shoulder to Sheehan as he limped away with her. “Couldn’t say a few words for the fallen warriors could you?…Being their officer, what? Probably best coming from you.”
Which left me seething and alone with Frolic. “That’s Lady Fitzgibbon?”
“Of course, Captain.” She said, lightly brushing my arm. “Whoops, sorry.”
It was so preposterous a notion that for a while I was left numb and incapable of comprehending the other siren I was now alone with. The colonel was fifty if a day and Lady Fitzgibbon probably in her late twenties. What a waste of good womanhood when Strappy could have been having his evil way with her. Doubtless it was a combination of being high born and a hero of the Charge that endeared him to her. Well I was a hero too except I didn’t have nearly seven hundred of the best cavalry in the world behind me when I supposedly slaughtered all those dead, which to my mind, made me a bigger hero than Fitzgibbon.
“Are you quite alright, Captain? You’ve gone all quiet and red in the face.” She said, leaning on me ever so slightly. “Perhaps you think me plain?”
I almost choked on my sherry but I wasn’t one to waste an opportunity when it presented itself and I suggested we take a look at the view of the town from the upper floor of this grand building.
“We must hurry.” She hissed, grabbing my arm and pulling me toward the staircase, spilling my sherry down Murphy’s borrowed breeches in the process.
We clambered the stairs and ran from room to room, dodging the ongoing coupling, mostly of the inoffensive and uninteresting kind, before settling on a storeroom filled with boxes.
Together we shoved a stack of them to the floor as papers flew into the air and she took position lying on her back
and hitching up her dress as I unfastened my breeches. I dived straight in and ploughed away, trying not to choke on the dust that wafted from the clutter around our heads.
“Oh, Strappy, you’re so heroic.” Why did they always insist on yammering away during the act? “Unlike my husband who never pays me attention anymore.”
I pretended not to hear that last part, not that I particularly cared anyway and continued grunting near her ear.
“A little slower, if you wouldn’t mind…just like he used to do it.”
“Shut up! Shut up!”
A sharp corner from some box dug into my leg with every thrust.
“No don’t slow down…that’s not how he did it.”
I attempted to blow away a fine cloud of powder that floated around my breathing apparatus to no avail and only succeeded in breathing more of the stuff in. “You just told me to go slower, woman.”
“Ugh, my name’s Ophelia.”
“Um, yes, I know that.”
She caressed my back and made little sobbing sounds. “My husband usually remains quiet during relations…if you wouldn’t mind.”
I finished with the mad trollop as quickly as possible, fastened Major Murphy’s sherry stained breeches and exited the room, leaving her where she lay.
Little did I know then that my actions would have unforeseen and horrendous consequences for me.
Pistols At Dawn
I may be a lot of things but nobody could accuse me of not being proactive when it came to taking measures at securing my own safety. Only a poor man’s coward acts in the moment, to ensure his wellbeing. But a real coward, someone such as myself, thinks far ahead into the future, forges friendships and bonds that might later serve him and when that time comes, acts.
It was to this end that I now conversed with Major Murphy and Captain Dolan during a game of cards at a corner table in a packed out officer’s mess. It was now a full day closer to the time when the mad colonel would order the entire garrison away from the city on a mad hunt for some dead men and I was determined not to be a part of the crazy exhibition.
Not Dead Yet: A Zombie Apocalypse Series - Books 1 - 2 Page 6
