The day after his encounter with Teresa Moreno, which had been so rudely thwarted by the meddlesome Sergeant Harper, Obadiah's first order of business was to find a whore to scratch his now unbearable itch. He'd asked a sergeant in another company where the town whores were and after being told, he went and had his need attended to right away. Though the Portuguese prostitute was nowhere near as attractive as Sharpie's whore, she did help take some of the edge off, which would keep him for awhile.
After returning to the campsite, now more relaxed and at ease, Hakeswill found Newkirk sitting on a tree stump, whitening his crossbelt. The sergeant took off his own crossbelt and tossed it to the young private.
"Here, do mine, too," Hakeswill said gruffly. "I needs an excuse to stand here talking to you, I do."
"Where have you been, Sarge?" Newkirk asked hesitantly. "That Sergeant Harper was nosing 'round here just a little bit ago, asking all sorts of questions about you."
"Never you mind, boy," the rawboned sergeant growled, twitching. "Just had me some urgent business that needed tending to right away, I did."
The camp had been talking all morning about Obadiah Hakeswill brawling over a woman with Captain Sharpe and Sergeant Harper, so Newkirk was easily able to fill in the blanks about what the sergeant's urgent business might be. He resisted the desire to roll his eyes and merely waited for Hakeswill to continue.
"I'm not surprised, the filthy, nosey Irishman," Obadiah spat, twitching again. "That one's going to be trouble, he is. He's Sharpie's lackey, that's what he is."
"Why don't Captain Sharpe like you?" Newkirk asked hesitantly. "I saw what he did to you and you'd done nothing but go report to him."
"Not that it's any of your business, boy, but I'll tell you, anyway, 'cos I got nothing to hide, see?" the sergeant said. "I was the one what recruited Sharpie into the army, years ago. He was on the run from the law, 'cos he done murdered a man over a woman, and I recruited him and gave him a home in the army." Taking a deep breath, he continued, "But Sharpie was a lazy bugger who thought he was too good for some kinds of duty. Thought he was better than everyone else, he did, even though he came from the gutter, same as me. I had him flogged to show him the error of his ways and he's resented me ever since, he has."
Newkirk didn't comment, but was glad yet again he was on Hakeswill's good side.
"Anyways, I done come over here to talk to you about Harper," Hakeswill continued, getting to the point. "I needs you to watch him and keep up with what he does. You needs to tell me anything suspicious you sees him do, 'specially if it has something to do with me. If you wants to do any stealin' without getting caught, we needs to know where the Irish bastard is at all times. He don't know you, so it will be easier for you to keep an eye on him all the time than it would be for me."
"Shouldn't be too hard to do," Newkirk said confidently. "He won't notice me at all."
"Be careful," Hakeswill warned. "He ain't as stupid as he looks."
"Don't worry, Sarge," the younger man assured him. "I'll be careful. After all, I learned from the best."
"That you did, boy," Obadiah said, cackling. "Just remember what I've taught you, and there shouldn't be no problems."
Later that day, Richard Sharpe was demoted back to lieutenant, when Captain Rymer arrived to take over the Light Company. Newkirk had been loitering near Colonel Windham's tent on the opposite side from the entrance and had heard everything.
Obadiah Hakeswill had been in camp, partially hidden behind a tree, but close enough to see Richard Sharpe emerging from the tent, looking disgusted. As he watched Sharpe stalk off, he cackled gleefully at whatever the officer's misfortune was, Newkirk came up beside him, saying, "I knows why he's acting that way."
"What are you waitin' for, boy," Hakeswill said, twitching in impatience. "Out with it!"
"I was just outside the Colonel's tent on the far side and I heard everything they said," Newkirk reported. "They done bumped Sharpe back to Lieutenant, 'cos Captain Rymer is to command the Light Company."
Rubbing his hands together gleefully, Obadiah crowed, "Serves him right, the jumped-up bastard. Colonel Windham's a good man who knows that rankers don't make good officers."
"And not only did he demote him," the younger man continued, "He's made him a company clerk of sorts. He's done put him in charge of the baggage and the women!"
Obadiah began to laugh so hard that he had to lean against a nearby tree to support himself. "Perfect job for him! He'll hate doin' that and he'll be complainin' 'fore you knows it, 'cos he thinks he's too good for that kind of work. And he won't help himself none at all by that attitude. That's how he got himself flogged back in India, see?" Thinks he's the bleedin' Prince of Wales, he does."
"I wouldn't mind having that job," Newkirk mused. "Plenty of opportunities for stealing and whoring that way."
"Anyone with any sense would want it," Obadiah agreed. "And just for the reasons you mentioned, too. But someone like me, who has a wife and family, don't need to be out front leadin' no forlorn hopes. Much safer handling women and baggage, it is."
"Rumour has it that he does have a daughter - by that woman from the stable," the younger man reported, rubbing the stubble on his chin.
"Is that so?" Hakeswill said. "Figures he'd spawn a bastard off a whore." The thought of it made Obadiah even more convinced now that she was a whore. "What kind of mother would go gallivantin' around with soldiers when she should be at home takin' care of her little 'un, I'd like to know. Shameful, it is."
Turning to leave, he added, "Now that Sharpie's not in command of the light company no more, I intends to make sure that green coated bunch of his does some real work. They're not any better than the rest of you men, with their green coats and rifles and such. Mark my words, I'll have them buggers in red and carrying, muskets just like the rest of you lads. They're in the South Essex now, not the bleedin' 95th Rifles."
Over the next few days, Sergeant Hakeswill quickly became acclimated to Portugal and his new unit. He observed the men of the light company closely, quickly spotting weaknesses and vulnerabilities for future exploitation, making note of which ones had wives, which would aid in their exploitation. The sergeant also assessed those who would make useful toadies, who would do anything to get on his good side. He would make use of them as well, but in different ways.
One morning, Hakeswill went down to check on the donkey he'd recently acquired for himself. Sergeants weren't allowed to ride horses, but they could ride donkeys. After ascertaining that the animal was properly fed and watered, he noticed Richard Sharpe conducting an inspection of the camp women for Colonel Windham. Having wanted to inspect the women himself, but for far different purposes than the Colonel had in mind, he settled himself down on the ground, behind the fence, to watch while he had himself a smoke.
Obadiah sat up straighter and watched more intently when one of the woman opened her bodice and began to nurse her baby. Sharpe continued with the inspection, no doubt getting himself a good look at close range, the sergeant thought to himself, cackling. As he continued to stare at the comely woman, he knew he had to have her.
A moment later, Newkirk joined him, interrupting his lascivious ruminating
"Glad you're here, Newkirk," Hakeswill said, twitching. "Do you know whose wife that is over there showin' her tits? I means to have that one, I do."
Newkirk followed the sergeant's gaze, then said, "Oh, that's Sally Clayton, Private Clayton's wife. All of me messmates wants her."
"They'll have to wait their turn, then," the sergeant snapped in irritation. "Sergeants first, it is." Sighing appreciatively as he watched Sally Clayton tie her bodice closed again, he asked, "Which one's Clayton. I ain't got all their names straight yet."
"He's the big, fat private with brown hair," Newkirk supplied. "He's one of Sergeant Harper's favourites."
"I knows who you means, now," Obadiah said. "Seems like Private Clayton is about to start losin' some of his equipment, he is." Turning to face Newkirk, he told him, "I wants you to steal his belt or his haversack; whatever you can lay hands on without him noticing right away."
"Sure, Sarge," Newkirk said. "What do you wants me to do with it?"
"Don't matter, just so's nobody can help him find it," Hakeswill told him. "Throw it in the river, I don't care. I means to have an inspection first thing in the morning, hopefully when the wives are around. In my experience, they'll do anything to keep their men from getting flogged."
Very early the next morning, Sergeant Hakeswill called the surprise inspection. As he surveyed the group of privates, who were nervously standing at attention, he came upon Private Clayton. He was the most nervous one of all, having discovered that his haversack was missing moments before being called to attention, which hadn't given him any time to search for it. Only Private Newkirk was unconcerned, having earlier disposed of Clayton's haversack into the nearby creek. He stood impassively, his expression blank, as Hakeswill scrutinized each man carefully.
Stopping before the miserable Private Clayton with one eyebrow raised, he demanded, "Where's your haversack, Clayton?"
Gulping nervously, the hapless soldier replied, "Don't know, Sergeant. I had it last night, but it was gone this morning."
"Listen to him," Hakeswill said, chortling. "He don't know where his haversack is. Careless, is what it is, not takin' care of the equipment the army provides him. You knows I can have you flogged for this, Clayton."
The large private sagged visibly at the mere thought of being flogged. He'd seen it done to others and the typical results of such a punishment frightened him.
The veteran sergeant reacted instantly, giving Clayton a sucker punch to the gut, which made him stagger slightly.
Seeing Hakeswill's murderous expression, he quickly straightened up before the hard bitten sergeant could get in another blow.
"You stands still and at attention when a sergeant speaks to you, you filthy bugger," Hakeswill barked at him, twitching.
He circled the unhappy soldier, glaring at him balefully. Sally Clayton stood anxiously nearby, in front of their tent, witnessing the humiliation the rawboned sergeant was giving her man.
"You deserves to be flogged for not takin' care of your equipment, you do," Hakeswill told him, his tone serious. "I've done had men flogged for it before and it does wonders for aidin' a man's memory, see?"
Seeing the terror in the man's eyes, he continued, "But I'm a fair man. I'm prepared to let it go just this one time, if you gives me a guinea to do it." He said this, knowing full well that no private would have that much money available,
"Sergeant Hakeswill," Clayton said nervously. "I don't have that kind of money. There isn't any way I could pay that."
"I thinks I can still help you out, Private," the sergeant said in almost an affable tone, watching the man sweat. "I've noticed your wife, Clayton. Pretty little whore, she is."
"She is not a whore!' Clayton choked out indignantly.
"I heard her talking yesterday about doing a Crapaud officer the last time the baggage train was left behind," Hakeswill calmly informed him, ignoring the soldier's outburst. "Sounds like a whore to me, it does."
"I don't believe you," Clayton insisted, then glanced at his wife, whose miserable expression told him that Hakeswill was telling him the truth.
"Just ask that one over there," Hakeswill said, pointing to Sally's friend, Lil. "She'll tell you."
When Clayton didn't reply, as Obadiah knew he wouldn't, he continued, "I done seen her tits yesterday, Clayton. If your wife comes to me and lets me have her, I'll forget about havin' you flogged."
"No, you shall not have her!" the private declared, disgusted by the very thought of it.
"I means to lay my hands on them tits, make no bones, but I will," he said, looking the unfortunate man in the eye. "Be warned. When Obadiah's up, he's up like an animal! Do yourself a favour, Clayton. Have her come to me willingly and you won't get flogged and it will go easier on her, besides."
Before Private Clayton could say another word, Sally rushed up to them. "Don't be foolish, George!" she begged. "I don't wants to see you hurt none. It would break me heart." Turning to face an amused Obadiah Hakeswill, she said stoutly, "I'll do it. Just tell me where and when."
Cackling, he told her, "You done the right thing, missy. My tent. Right now."
After dismissing the men, he took her arm to guide the nervous woman to his tent.
"Watch the boys, George," Sally called out as Hakeswill led her away. "I'll be back as soon as I can."
Clayton stood watching helplessly for a long moment as Hakeswill led her away, before reluctantly turning to go tend to the children.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
Several days later, Sergeant Hakeswill accompanied Captain Rymer as he inspected the men of the light company, as the Sergeant Major was busy elsewhere and he was the senior of the regular sergeants. Obadiah looked for any opportunity to spend time with the new captain, ingratiating himself with the officer and making himself indispensable to him.
All was routine until Hakeswill led him to the small group of riflemen. Rymer took one look at the motley green-coated group and frowned in disapproval. Sergeant Harper was not present, having gone off with Sharpe on an errand.
'Why are these men here?" Rymer demanded. "They are dressed differently. Are they not of the South Essex regiment?"
"These are Lieutenant Sharpe's men, sir," Hakeswill replied. "Part of the South Essex, they are, but I don't know why they still wears them green rags, when they could be spanking in red, sir. Not proper at all, it ain't, sir."
"No it isn't, Sergeant," Rymer agreed, still frowning at the men. "I want them dressed properly and with the correct weapons by the time we attack at Badajoz. I will bring the matter to the attention of Colonel Windham at my earliest opportunity. It's not good for unit cohesion if they insist on wearing the uniform of another regiment."
"Couldn't agree with you more, sir," Sergeant Hakeswill said, grinning evilly at the green-coated riflemen. If he had anything to say about it, it wouldn't be business as usual for much longer for Richard Sharpe and his cronies.
"I trust that I will be able to depend on you to get these men shaped up, Sergeant Hakeswill," the young captain said confidently.
"You can depend on me, sir," Hakeswill said, twitching, before snapping off a smart salute.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Late one morning nearly two weeks later, the camp was making preparations to leave, as orders had come down to make the move to Badajoz. Obadiah Hakeswill was eager to go, ready to leave Elvas behind. He knew that the opportunity to pillage and plunder in Badajoz would likely be the most lucrative opportunity he was likely to get in the entire time he'd be away from home. He'd overheard men talking about the recent sacking of Cuidad Rodrigo, where quite a few men had made out like bandits, so Hakeswill knew the likelihood was high that the same would happen once they took Badajoz.
As he supervised a detachment loading baggage, a post rider rode into the camp, carrying the post for the company. Obadiah hadn't yet had a letter from Anna since leaving home and he was beginning to be concerned. As he dismissed the men for mail call, he thought it was about time for him to get a letter, so he followed the men over to the table where the letters were being handed out.
The sergeant leaned against a tree watching as names were called and men stepped forward to claim their letters. Some of the men who got letters couldn't read, but there was always someone in camp who could and would read them their letters. Not for the first time, Obadiah was glad he could read, because he'd not want to share the intimate exchanges between him and his wife with anyone.
"Sergeant Obadiah Hakeswill!"
Obadiah's head snapped up at the mention of his name. Finally, a letter from Anna! After stepping forward to get the letter, he went to sit by the tree to read it right away. So glad he was to get a letter, that he was oblivious to the comments of the men around him, wondering who in the hell would write to this miserable bastard.
A genuine smile appeared on his bony face as he saw his beloved Anna's handwriting. Opening the letter eagerly, he began to read.
Dearest Obadiah,
I received both your letters most eagerly and I am quite relieved to know you have arrived safely in Portugal.
Though the children and I are all well, we all miss your strong and steady presence at home. I particularly pine for you and I long ever so much to hold you in my arms once again. Though Aunt Catherine and the children keep me diverted during the day, it is at night, when I'm lying alone in our bed that I miss you the most. I often look at your portrait, which I wear always around my neck. I must admit that I sometimes even talk to it, desperately hoping that you might somehow feel the depth of the love I have for you, my sweet Obadiah…
Obadiah pressed his eyes closed for a moment, thinking of how he, too, spoke to her portrait in the darkness of his tent every night just before going to sleep. Returning his attention to the letter, he continued reading.
I have some wonderful news for you that I am sure will give you comfort during the lonely times. A few weeks after you left, I realized that you had left me with a little souvenir. Yes - I am to have another baby! Our new child should be born some time in late August or early September. I am quite healthy and the midwife believes that there will be no problems this time, but I spend quite a bit of time resting, just to make sure. It grieves me that you will not be here for the birth, but I will manage with Aunt Catherine and the children to look after me. I implore you to take extra special care of yourself and come home soonest to see our new son or daughter.
Praying for you and thinking of you constantly, I long for the day you return home safely to me.
With all my heartfelt love,
Your Anna.
PS: Barry wanted me to tell you that he's diligently practicing with the pistol, as is Bridget with the pianoforte. Will also said that he's working hard on his reading and ciphering and wants you to come home as quickly as you can. Aunt Catherine also sends her best regards.
After folding the letter, he stuck it in his jacket pocket, meaning to read it again later. He called the men to attention, ordering them back to work.
Newkirk, noticing the wide grin on his face, asked, "Good news from home, Sarge?"
"The best," Obadiah assured him, still grinning. "My sweet wife wrote and told me that she's havin' another baby. It seems I done gave her a bellyful just before I left home."