The High Road (On Hold)

Chapter Fourteen

          The walls of Stéaphan's tent were saturated from the mist that had developed overnight. His linen sheets were dry, fortunately, though his back was sore from the jostling of the horse he had rode the majority of the previous day. Infantrymen, even infantry officers, seldom have mounts. Meriadoc felt oppositely and was only too happy to have his steed trot in front of the "poor sods on foot."

Soon thereafter, he left his tent and stretched his sore back in the cold morning air. Dawn was not far off; the sun shone ever so slightly in the distance. The only other soldiers in the camp that were awake were the cooks preparing for breakfast. A large fire was kindled on the far side of the camp, where the cooks were. The smell of roast venison would soon draw nearby troops out of their sheets. The tent next to Stéaphan's belonged to Meriadoc, who had not woken up yet. The captain went back into his tent to get himself dressed in his trousers and roughspun officer's tunic. By the time he had emerged fully dressed, Meriadoc could be heard stirring in the adjacent tent and the sun was almost past the treeline in the distance.

"Up and up, ye galut", Stéaphan said as he kicked Meriadoc's tent.

"Mind yer own", replied the flag sergeant with a groggy morning voice. "I'll be up in a moment."

"If yer not up soon the venison might be gone by the time you get to the cooks."

"Ach."

"Have it yer way, ye stubborn bullock", said the captain as he left the tent. He began to shout to the still sleeping men to rise.
"Sergeants! Have your men up and formed together! The first unit formed up eats first!"

At that, the men started to hustle in their tents. Soldiers sleeping under the sky sprang up from their supine positions and quickly started gathering their kits. A man's kit was not too extensive as much of Scotland's army consisted of light infantry, the category most spear militias fell under. Stéaphan's unit was no different. Garrisoned spearmen carried with them their primary and secondary weapons, wooden kite shield, two sets of full uniform, consisting of hard-leather shoes, standard brown or beige trousers, soldier's tunic and cold weather cloak, and mess kit. This was standard and any additions to the kit were made at the expense of the militiaman. Chainmail or padded gambeson, for example, were used, but only by the wealthiest of soldiers.

After the majority of the men had awoken, they were formed and filed for breakfast. The first day's meals were always the best; the food they brought with them was consumed at this point. For much of the rest of the journey, the men would have to hunt and forage from the land around them.

"After ye get yer food, 'ave a seat and eat it, then be ready to march! We have much ground to cover today!" called Stéaphan to the munching soldiers.

A general mumble of "Aye captain" sounded among the seated men. Meriadoc was notably absent from the throng. Minutes later, he shambled up to the cooks and took his fill of venison.

"And 'ow did you sleep last night?" Stéaphan asked Meriadoc.

"Like a wet stone", he replied, groggy as ever.

"Well, once ye get yer legs movin' ye'll feel better", said the captain with a smile on his face.

Stéaphan always noticed his Scottish accent became more noticeable when he was surrounded by his troops. Being an officer, Stéaphan had to make an extra effort to be on the same level as his troops socially, but still ensure he is not viewed as their friend and as their leader. Thus, his accent became more acute when he gave orders or called commands.

There was, however, a pair of ladies Stéaphan noticed were not among them. He glanced to the other end of the camp to spot the carriage in the same place it was when he closed his eyes the previous night. After further examination, he saw a plume of smoke not far behind the carriage. That is when he realized his camp was segregated.