A bad halfpenny (Open)

[Bog]

Thus far, the day had been a waste. She had trudged along behind a laden cart, her worn-out shoes finally giving out shortly after a brief halt. The ruined leather pieces now resided in her little haversack, with the hope that when the army stopped for the night, she might be able to put them back together.

Worse than that was her inability thus far to get anything to eat. Her wheedling for scraps had been unsuccessful and she had been unable to get near enough to any of the sutlers' wagons to steal anything. She was hungry, damn it. It had been nearly two days now since she had last eaten anything of substance. She was no stranger to going hungry but this was beginning to wear on her.

With a grimace, Hannah realised she had stepped squarely in a fresh pile of horse dung. The warm and moist ooze between her bare toes could not be mud, for the road was tolerably dry. Too, mud did not smell like droppings either. Wasn't this just lovely.

She tried half-heartedly to scrape the stinking mess off her foot before having to hurry forward again, to avoid being cracked across the back by the whip in the hand of the wagon driver behind her. There were only a few ways in which this day could get worse, she thought. If she could not beg something to eat before nightfall, she was determined to find the nearest officer's tent and help herself to his victuals.

This thought was followed immediately by her stumbling over a stone in the road. Hannah put her hands out to stop herself hitting the ground too hard. Her halted progress was rewarded by a sharp slash across the shoulders from the wagon driver's whip, which was accompanied by a harsh "Get a move on, y'idle bitch!"

Hannah got quickly back to her feet, rounding on the wagon driver with all the force her pent-up emotions could muster. Her language was not at all polite. At length, her energy sapped, she turned sharply away and resumed her solitary march. Bloody soldiers. Bloody camp followers. Bloody world.

[deaartio]

Adelaide sighed as she tugged at her uncomfortable shirt. First, she and her regiment marched all the way down from Massachusetts, not stopping for hell or high water. Adelaide'd had to wear her tight chest bindings all day and night as they didn't even stop to erect tents for sleeping.

Then, after they had finally made a proper camp at their destination and Adelaide let herself collapse onto the threadbare blanket that was her bed, she was ordered to go out and make sure that the rendezvous location for her regiment and a delivery of supplies was safe.

But, as per usual, there were no horses to be spared so she had to go and scout on foot.

"Oh, perfect." She muttered in and unusually bitter voice as a thorn bush caught her faded blue uniform.

"Of course, because why the hell not?" She said to no one after managing to prick her thumb while freeing herself from the nefarious bush.

She leaned back on a small tree, gazing up at the bright blue sky. Well, it could be worse. She thought to herself.

Running a calloused hand though her hastily cut blonde hair, she continued on her march through the forest, stopping occasionally to make a marker for herself.

"I could have no shoes." she said to no one agin, hoping to convince herself that the situation really could be worse.

She came to a sudden halt and dropped to her hands and knees when she saw a clearing com into view. Adelaide slowly pushed apart the leafy bush to get a look at the road.

She placed her hands over her mouth to stop herself from gasping at what she saw. It was nothing less than the British Army.

Well, not all of it, but surely enough to give her sorry regiment a what-for.

Great, just dandy. she thought seeing the relatively well equipped troops walk by her hiding place. At one point, a red-clad soldier was only a few feet from her. Now how could this be any worse, Soldier Boy? some part of her brain asked her.

Adelaide didn't say anything as the train continued on. She sat still as a statue until the back of the train came into view. Well, I could be her. Adelaide thought as she saw a skinny brown haired woman no older than herself step into a fresh pile of horse dung. She flinched as the same woman got a slash from a whip and many rude words from the wagon-driver.

Adelaide's mind began racing as she saw the train begin to pass her by. A rational person would run back to camp and report it, but Adelaide wasn't rational. Slipping off her blue jacket and shoving it in the hollow of a tree, she dash out of the bush and began following the wagon. She figured that if she was lucky, no one would ask any questions about a strange looking young man following the train and she would be able to find out where the army was headed.

Of course, that probably wouldn't be the case. But Adelaide didn't know that.

[Bog]

She wished she was still in London, where the surroundings were familiar and there were people of her ilk to rub elbows with. It was safe there in Old Nichol. Safe and comfortable. At least it was for somebody like her, who had been born in the rookery. Here, there was nothing but forest and field and vile open air. It was not natural at all.

In her irritation, Hannah had slowed her pace, taking care to keep well clear of that cod's head of a wagon driver. If she had anything suitable, she'd throw it at him. Instead, she could only glare at the man as the wagon rumbled past. He was one sod she'd never solicit for business, that was for sure.

" 'Ere," she said suddenly, realising there was a boy trailing along behind the wagon. "You wiv 'im?" She jerked a thumb in the wagon driver's direction.

[deaartio]

Adelaide flinched and snapped her gaze away form the lovel countryside to look at the woman who'd just spoken to her.

"I, um," Adelaide wasn't exactly sure what she'd been asked, with the woman's accent and all. "N-no." she said, not really wanting to be associated with the nasty looking man.

"I... uh," if that woman wasn't intimidating, Adelaide didn't know who was. They were pretty much the same height and Adelaide probably outweighed her, but there was something about her that made naive and sheltered Adelaide uncomfortable.

Think, Adelaide! She told herself, needing a story.

"Min name is Aleid." She said in a fake Dutch accent, figuring that it sounded real because she could speak Dutch. "Don you know if de army be nooden een..." she blinked and skipped a beat as she thought, "seamstress?"

Oh, by the Lord? Why'd you say that? What kind of a man does sewing? She shouted at herself internally, plastering on a fake smile to try to cover the awkwardness of her reply.

[Bog]

Oh hell and death. The lad was foreign. One of those damned Hessians, most likely. A tailor or something to boot. That meant more competition for her, when there was plenty of that as it was. Hannah sighed.

"Don't you speak English?" She asked, a trifle irritated already. This must be her day for the worst luck imaginable. "Or is you soft 'eaded?"

[deaartio]

Adelaide was taken a back by the woman.

"I am not simpleminded!" She insisted, forgetting her accent. "I-I'm plenty educated!"

She narrowed her eyes, "You're one that needs a lesson in English." she crossed her arms, the exhaustion was certainly getting to her.

"I... um." she sighed, all the anger having left her as her eyes registered the slight rip in the woman's threadbare dress where the ship had hit her. "I could help you with that wound... if you like..."

[Bog]

The swift change in demeanour caused Hannah to lift an eyebrow fractionally. 'Plenty educated' could mean anything. In this case, it clearly meant this boy was of the snotty, holier-than-thou bent. She rolled her eyes.

"I don't need a fing from the Quali'y," she said, affecting an exaggerated curtsy. Neither a lesson in English nor a clumsy prodding at the thin slash on her back caused by the wagon driver's whip. " 'Less you needs servicin' yer own self, which'll cost you, won't it?"

[deaartio]

Adelaide cocked her head, "Servicing? What kind of service?" She could be horribly naive at times.

"Ugh, forget it." She shook her head as they continued along the trail, Adelaide was defiantly beginning to regret this. "Mrs.," she said, slipping into her more polite country-boy attitude, "do you just know where this train is goin'?"

Of course, she risked blowing her cover by asking this, but at this point she was unsure of the woman's intellectual level.

[Bog]

Either this lad was too young to know what Hannah meant or he was indeed softheaded. Hannah reckoned it was more a case of the latter. She rolled her eyes. "Servicin', cully. Don't they got doxies where yer from?" Probably not, if he could not even recognise that Hannah was one herself.

Then she frowned. That was a sharp change in the conversation, wasn't it? "The 'ell you fink I look like, eh? Train's goin' that way, innit? When we stops mebbe we'll fin' out where we's at, but that ne'er 'appens."

[deaartio]

Adelaide sighed deeply at the surly response. They were well past the place where she had stuffed jacket. She might be able to find the camp from here, but would undoubtably have to sleep in the woods over night.

Torries or wolves? She asked herself, digging her fingernails into her palms to keep tears from edging into her eyes. She hastily dabbed at the wetness in the corners of her bright blue orbs. It was so childish of her to cry, and she knew it. Hopefully no one had seen.

"Do you know if I'll be able to stay at the camp for the night?" She asked, "I mean, no one will stop me, right?"

[Bog]

That sealed it for her. This lad was indeed softheaded. Brilliant. With a frown, Hannah looked the boy over again. It almost seemed to her like he was a lost and frightened child. Which, of course, might just be what he was.

"Why shoul'n't it be? I ain't the bleedin' keeper o' this lot, am I?" She shrugged indifferently. "Sure I ain't gonna stop ya. 'Specially if ya needs anyfing took care of."

There was still a chance for her to do a little business here, however much she doubted this boy would even know what to do with his dangling bits.