Page 26 of Highlander's Sinless Nymph
Captain Bolton looked up slowly, his finger placed carefully on a point on the map.
“Well, I must ask the question; why in the devil are you standing here?” he said, his blue eyes twinkling dangerously.
“Well, sir, we couldn’t find much trace of her within the camp––not beyond the usual sign, anyway,” the aide said, quickly.
“I assume there is a ‘but’ marching its way into this conversation soon?”
“Yes, s-s-sir,” the aide said, fiddling nervously with the pommel of his sword. “We found barely any sign within the camp, but then we picked up a trail that led towards the stretch of beech forest to our north.”
Captain Bolton gave a little snort of impatience. “And what did you find?” His eyes narrowed and he said in a tone dripping with sarcastic excitement, “Come, come, man, you have me on tenterhooks!”
“Well, sir, we did not pursue. The men are waiting by the trail head, but I rode back to get you.”
“Why?” Captain Bolton asked. He was beginning to feel irked, and when he became irked he always found it better to be outside of his tent. Furniture was liable to be broken if he wasn’t.
Clearly, the aide was aware of his commanding officer’s proclivities when roused, for he hurriedly blurted, “We found another set of tracks, sir. Heavier––definitely not Miss Bolton’s––and not as fresh––a day or so old, maybe.”
“So, why in the name of God did this development not precipitate in you pursuing immediately?” the Captain asked, his voice rising an octave.
“We thought we had best come and get you, sir,” the aide said weakly.
“Why thehell––” Captain Bolton began, the thunder well and truly entering his voice.
“In case––in case it was a-a-a tr-tr––”
“Out with it, you infernal imbecile! Out with it, before I have your tongue pulled out with hot pincers as a warning to those who would waste my time!” Captain Bolton snarled, getting ominously to his feet. His fists planted on his desktop, his nostrils flaring in a fashion that would have given Queen Boudicca pause for thought.
“A tr-tr-tryst, sir!” the terrified stammered. “I came back in c-case it was a tryst!”
The change in Captain Bolton was immediate. If fire were able to be frozen in the blink of an eye and turned to ice, such was the change in his tone and demeanor.
“What?” he said.
“It has the hallmarks of a tryst, sir,” the aide said. “Two sets of tracks, a woman and a man, heading off into the woods. As it involves your daughter I thought it judicious to ask you to come, in case––”
Captain Bolton vaulted his desk, grabbed the luckless aide by the throat and pinned him to one of the support posts of the tent.
“Shut that babbling cesspit that you call a mouth, and listen to me,” the Captain hissed into the man’s face. “Have my horse saddled immediately and meet me out the front of this tent in two minutes. Nod if that has penetrated your skull––though I fear it might be bone all the way through.”
The aide nodded, his eyes wide and scared.
“You have muskets, shot, and powder?” Captain Bolton asked, his grip slackening enough so that the man could drew breath and wheeze an answer.
“Yes…sir,” the aide managed.
Captain Bolton released him and the soldier fell back gasping.
“Good. Now get out and have my horse made ready,” the Captain said.
The man nodded, bowed, and staggered wordlessly from the tent.
One minute and fifty-one seconds later, Captain Bolton was making his way through English encampment. He urged his horse through the gaps between his soldier’s tents, roaring abuse at any man who was foolish enough to get in his way. One poor fellow stepped out of his tent to see what all the commotion was and received a stroke of the Captain’s riding crop across his shoulder blades for his troubles.
The aide led Captain Bolton through the camp and out into the surrounding heathland. They did not need to go far before they came across the rest of the milling soldiery. The waiting men were sharing a joke about something, but stopped laughing the instant they saw Captain Bolton riding towards them on his coal-black war horse.
“I will give you a little advice before we ride on, men,” the Captain said, addressing the suddenly stern-looking troopers. “Whatever we might find down this track, it will remain between the men here assembled. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Captain,” the men replied, as one.
