**1st Instance of Calvin and Fallows intimacy. It's pretty tame at the moment but future encounters are far more descriptive.**

Chapter 95 - Birched:

Upon entering the Colonel's bedchamber, Bordon could smell the sickness. Beth had gone to some lengths to lessen the smell, there were flowers in every corner of the room. The heavy drapes were closed and candles burned in their sconces, though it was broad daylight outside. Despite Beth's efforts, there was still that underlying bitter scent that was a little offensive on the nostrils. The same scent which lingered in Cilla's bed chamber. The stench of disease. Bordon was able to ignore it, for he'd smelled worse. The sharp tang of blood, even shit and piss - all of which assailed the nostrils on the battlefield. He sat beside the bed, conversing with Tavington who was reclined against the pillows and had the pallid look of death about him.

Bordon began to fill William in, bringing him up to date on everything he had learned from Harmony. That Emily and Calvin were having an affair, and that Emily was the one who warned Calvin - through Mrs. Salisbury - that Bordon and Harmony had resumed their affair, which in turn led to the vicious beating Harmony had suffered at Calvin's hands.

"Something will have to be done about this. If only Wilkins were here, we have to tell him his wife has been having an affair," William said in a too weak voice. He could barely lift his arms, he was so tired and drained. Lord, the yellow fever was a vile thing. William had seemed quite hale when last Bordon had seen him, it was quite a shock to return two days later to see the Colonel like this.

And Cilla had miscarried their child…

A vile illness.

"Yes, Mrs. Wilkins," Bordon agreed, focusing his despair and rage on her. "Damned bitch. I just want to wrap my fingers around her pretty little neck and squeeze!"

"I have a better idea," William said softly. As he continued to pronounce Emily's punishment, Bordon began to smile. He could not have thought of a better way to handle the little slattern and he was positively gleeful. William continued, "you will write to Wilkins, informing him of his wife's crimes against Harmony. She has caused trouble amongst the camp followers, yet again. Tell him I have taken matters into my own hands, as is my right, as I warned him I would, if she became troublesome again," he licked his lips. Bordon reached for a glass and lifted William's head to help him drink. "Ah, this thing is wretched," he complained of his illness. "Inform O'Hara of Farshaw's affair - he has dallied with the wife of a superior Officer, surely that could be punishable by flogging?"

"Well, yes, but I do not believe you can command such a thing done. If the offended Officer makes the complaint, Farshaw could be flogged," Bordon mused.

"Hmm… I see your point. Bordon, I want Farshaw settled for. Therefore, you will inform O'Hara that we have had word from Wilkins, who has expressed his grievance most strongly and that it is the Captain's wish that Farshaw be punished."

Bordon laughed softly. Even in the throes of his illness, William could plot and lie with the best of them.

"I shall see it done," he said, smiling wistfully. "And when he is being flogged, I'll make certain I'm standing right where the bastard can see me." As Bordon rose, Tavington reached out and grabbed at his sleeve, though his grip was limp.

Richard paused, and William continued softly, "I'm sorry for your loss, Richard."

"Thank you, William," Richard replied. There was nothing more to be said, the Major strode from the chamber.

"We have eight confirmed deaths, caused by yellow fever, Sir," Dalton informed Bordon, who was busy working at Tavington's desk. He couldn't believe how much he'd missed these last two days, and how quickly this awful illness had spread.

"Jesus," Bordon muttered. "How many more sick?" It was an absolute nightmare, one he had no desire to shoulder. His own wife was at deaths door - and his baby was gone. Had it been a boy? Or a girl? Could his child be counted amongst the dead? Yellow fever had taken him, or her, and Richard was not even being given the time to mourn the loss. No sooner had he left Cilla's chamber that the demands on his time began.

Dalton was unable to keep the fear from his voice. The sickness was running rampant, it was an enemy they had no weapons to fight against. "A good two hundred are ill - one hundred and twenty from O'Hara's camp and eighty in ours. Sir, I'm not feeling the best myself and was wondering if you didn't mind if I laid down? I'm sure it's nothing but… Christ, I hope it's not yellow fever."

"What are you feeling? Tell me your symptoms," Bordon said, voice crisp. Jesus, not Dalton. He could not afford to lose his Officers.

"My head feels as though it'll explode into a hundred shards. No, it feels like there's a hundred shards piercing inside my skull," Dalton admitted, rubbing his temples. "I hurt all over, every muscle is aching. I'm hot and it's not all that hot today. Brownlow said it's cool, in fact."

"It is cool…" the Major mused, cocking his head to one side, he studied Dalton.

"I can barely keep my eyes open and they sting when I glance outside and -"

"Get yourself to bed," Bordon snapped, "Immediately. Jesus, Dalton. I can't afford to lose you."

"Yes, Sir," Dalton stumbled out of the office and Bordon, scowling, threw his quill to the desk. How many more would sicken? How many would die? Jesus. He had so much to worry about, so many missives pouring in, the numbers of sick were growing steadily and there was not a damned thing he could do about it. Cornwallis was suffering much the same at Charlotte, even his physicians were being struck down with the illness.

And another thing to worry about - Banastre Tarleton had arrived a short while earlier, he was dreadfully ill. Bordon had put him in Benjamin Martin's chamber.

So much was happening all at once, and he still had Emily Wilkins to deal with yet. He'd done all he could about the illness in camp and in the house, there was nothing more to be done just now. But Emily Wilkins - she was a problem he could deal with finally. He rose from the desk, determined to see to her now. He found her in the parlour, pulling her cape around her shoulders.

"I won't be long," she was saying to the other women. "I'm feeling rather tired - it'll be a short walk, I think."

"You're looking rather pale, Em and this illness creeps up quite quickly. Perhaps you shouldn't go?" Beth asked.

"Mrs. Wilkins isn't going anywhere," Bordon said as he strode into the parlour. Emily turned sharply at the sound of his voice. She gave a start, he heard her gasp and indeed, she looked suddenly terrified by his sudden appearance. And well she should, he was advancing on her with the threat of doom.

"My ladies, I hope you will forgive the intrusion. I will speak to Mrs. Wilkins alone. Please excuse us," Bordon said, his voice polite for Beth and the other ladies as he seized Emily's arm.

"Ah, Major…" Beth was looking worried. "Is something amiss? Where is Emily going?"

"Mrs. Tavington," Bordon said firmly in a no nonsense voice, "please excuse us."

Beth's eyes widened and she drew a sharp breath. Bordon held her gaze, wondering if she would make a fuss. She could not like him stomping on her in this way… Sensing that all hell was about to break loose, Rebecca and Sarah clutched their skirts, their anxious eyes on Beth. Who lifted her chin, smoothed her skirts and; with a scathing look at Bordon, glided past him with her head held high. He would have laughed, for she looked completely absurd, trying to intimidate him with her height. She was so tiny, even with her chin raised and her back straight, she barely reached his upper his chest. He towered over her. Yes, he would have laughed, if he wasn't so damned tired and angry and frustrated and… He'd have to smooth Beth's ruffled feathers later. It was another thing to add to his ever growing list…

"If you've finished your tea," Bordon called to Rebecca and Sarah, allowing his asperity to show. "I believe the both of you could find employment upstairs. You can alternate your time tending Mrs. Bordon and Colonel Tarleton and Ensign Dalton and the other sick. Mrs. Tavington will be run ragged if she continues seeing to them all herself!" Drinking tea with Emily when there were sick in the house!

"You show concern for Cilla do you?" Beth rounded on him, her eyes burning as if on fire. "Better late than never, I suppose."

"Beth -" Richard began, astounded, only to be cut short.

"The women have been helping me. Sir," Beth said, loading the honorific with contempt, her dark eyes flashing. "You would not know that however, with you returning only this morning."

He stared at her with foreboding, she held his gaze, he didn't like the disgust he saw shining in her eyes.

"Miss Middleton, Miss Wilkins and Mrs. Wilkins are as deserving of a rest as I am. They have been run as ragged as I have been," Beth continued, her chin lifted high. "Another thing you'd know, if you'd been here. In fact, there were quite a few things you'd have known, had you been here. A few things Mrs. Bordon could have used your help with, had you been there. You could have found employment upstairs yourself," her voice hardened, it lashed like a whip, "had you been here." She glared up at him, challenging, waiting for his answer. He stared back.

"I thought you'd… You know where I have been," he began, shaking his head as if to clear it. "I thought you'd understand. What I was doing… it was important," he said, his voice faltering. "It was… Important."

"No, Major, it was not," Beth said. She folded her arms across her chest, she looked as though she wanted to scream at him but was holding it all in. "You were well aware that your wife was sick before you left. As for your other situation, I'm told that it was well in hand without you. As far as I am concerned, your attending to it at such a critical time was, quite simply, nothing more than pure indulgence."

Bordon saw the girls trading puzzled glances, both appeared discomforted both by Beth's anger and the conversation that clearly, only Beth and Bordon understood. They began to make their way for the door, not wanting to be within twenty yards of this discussion.

Beth was right, he knew she was. Harmony had been delivered to Mr. Turnbull's in Pembroke, she was safe there and it wouldn't have mattered if he'd gone to her immediately or waited for a week. He'd been so desperate to be with her again, wild horses could not have kept him away. He'd taken it for granted that Beth would understand, that she would have supported him, for she always had in the past.

But her cousin had been sick, as Beth just pointed out. And she'd lost the child, in his absence. Right now, Beth was anything but understanding.

"Emily," Beth said, shifting her gaze to the other woman, who'd been too frightened to move. "Forgive me for asking this, but could you please take a seat beside the spinnet for a moment? I'd like a private word with Major Bordon."

"Of course," Emily - who'd understood far more of the conversation than she was supposed to, retreated to the far end of the parlour, for Beth wanted her out of ear shot. She'd heard enough, in any case; it was all but confirmed now, that Bordon had spent the last two nights in his lovers arms, while Cilla was miscarrying. She sat down, wishing she could still hear Beth, also wishing she could go immediately to Calvin to tell him. And to Cilla, to tell her that her suspicions had been correct…

Beth's eyes shifted from Emily back to Bordon. She took a step closer to the Major and kept her voice low, to be certain Emily could not hear.

"Beth, I know you're angry, but -"

"I am wroth," Beth interrupted. "I am so very disgusted." Richard's eyes widened and he drew a sharp breath. "You bedded my cousin. I'm not supposed to know, but sometime during your stay in her father's house, you did bed her. You got a child on her. How you managed to seduce her, I do not know. Harmony blames Cilla, but I do not. I blame you," she said and Richard swallowed hard. "I blame you, for taking advantage of an innocent girl, for taking her virginity, for getting a child on her, all of which led to this forced marriage, which you have all but ignored since the day you said your vows. Your wife's heart is bleeding, Richard. For all of it. And now for the loss of her baby, as well. You have treated my cousin appallingly, from the moment you bedded and discarded her, to the moment you married her, to these last few days, that have seen you abandon her. You have behaved appallingly toward her, Richard. And words can never, ever express just how quickly my regard for you has been plummeting; since the day I learned what you did to her. Now, it's hit rock bottom. I could not think lower of you if I tried."

His mouth worked but no words would come.

"Don't you dare suggest to me that a visit to Harmony was more important than staying here to tend your sick wife," Beth said. "And don't you dare take the other women to task, when they were here, at the bedside of your sick and heartsore wife, doing absolutely everything that you should have been doing for her. With Harmony as safe as she was, Cilla was the one that was important. Your wife. I just… I have no more words for you. I am so utterly disgusted with you." She glared up at him and he stared back in silence. "Don't you ever take those women to task again. Don't you ever suggest they are being lazy. You weren't here. You did not see." She paused, glanced past him at Emily. "What business do you have with her? She has been helping as much as anyone in this house. Which is far more than you have done."

Richard licked his lips to work moisture back into them. "My business with Mrs. Wilkins is unrelated," he said. He wondered if he could tell her the truth about everything Emily had been doing - would Beth champion her, still? No, she still cared deeply for Harmony, she would not condone Emily's actions against her. It was his actions against Cilla that she took to task, not his love for Harmony.

"She has been having an affair with Farshaw," he told her and Beth's eyes began to widen. "She is the one who told Farshaw that Harmony and I had resumed our affair. The beating happened because of her."

"No, it didn't. The beating can be laid only at Farshaw's feet, no other. But the rest…" Beth trailed off, shocked. "Are you sure about all this?"

"I am," Richard said. He thought of Linda Stokes and he realised he could not reveal his source. "They were seen together in Mrs. Salisbury's tent. Their conversation - and their sporting - was overheard by my informant, who happened to be outside the tent at the time."

"I see," Beth was reeling, he could see she was. "What do you intend to do with her?"

"About the affair? Nothing yet. But she has worked trouble among the camp followers yet again; I have placed the matter before Colonel Tavington this morning -"

"He is too ill to be dealing with this sort of thing!" Beth snapped.

"He is the Commandant and he gave me his orders for Mrs. Wilkins."

"And they are?"

"She is to be birched and removed from camp entirely."

"Birched!" Beth gasped. "You go too far, Richard."

"This is your husband's command, not mine."

"Oh, of course it is. And you had nothing to do with the decision, did you. Birched, for revealing your affair to others."

"He beat her, Beth!" Richard hissed. "He raped her!"

"Then beat him again. Kill him for all I care! Emily is no more guilty than you yourself - you renewed your affair, knowing what a madman Farshaw is, knowing what danger you were putting her in!"

"I know!" Richard snapped.

"Then bloody birch yourself, because you are every bit as responsible!" Beth was breathing hard by now, her cheeks were blotched red with fury. "

"What's this about a birching?" Emily asked tremulously as she rose to her feet. The two had begun raising their voices, she'd heard enough to know that they were now discussing her.

"Is it true?" Beth asked, advancing on her so quickly her skirts swirled around her legs. "Are you having an affair with Lieutenant Farshaw?"

The blood drained from Emily's face and her legs began to tremble. "I… No, of course I am not… what a thing to suggest… That is not true..! Whomever has said such a thing is lying. I have not been unfaithful to my husband," she managed to whisper, though she looked hunted, her eyes darting from Richard to Beth and back again. Unwilling to admit defeat, she did her best to rally herself. "I'm not... I'm not having an affair... Who would suggest such a thing? Whomever it is, they are lying and I... I... I demand you deal with them most harshly!"

"Your source?" Beth rounded on Bordon.

"Is quite sound, I assure you," Bordon said. "My informant shall remain unnamed, but I am told that Mrs. Wilkins enlisted the help of Mrs. Salisbury, who she paid for the use of her tent, where she met Lieutenant Farshaw for her liaisons."

"Emily, is this true?" Beth breathed.

"No, I… I haven't… absurd… to even think it. I told you… this person, they are lying!"

"You were seen. You were heard. There are witnesses," Bordon said bluntly. "There will be no lying or evading, not this time."

"This time…" Beth whispered, remembering. "This isn't the first time. There was that other Lieutenant, before Farshaw, wasn't there?"

"How do you -" Emily cut short, her mouth working. Beth took a full step back. "That's a lie! I would never… Beth, please. "

"Please what? You are having an affair with Lieutenant Farshaw!" Beth glared. "All that talk of Harmony being a whore, of being lesser, because she beds men who are not their husband. You are no better! You've never been any better! If anything you, out of every woman in this house, should have understood Harmony best! Instead, you speak as though you are above her, when you most certainly are not! Farshaw, of all people! Why the devil did you start up with Farshaw?"

"I… I don't know… I…"

"No doubt it amused her, to be screwing her rival's husband," Richard said. "The affair is secondary to my purpose here. What is more important is that Mrs. Wilkins discovered that Mrs. Farshaw and I had resumed our understanding, and she tattled to her lover. This isn't a question of whether she is guilty or not, Mrs. Tavington. Colonel Tavington was explicit in his orders, that Mrs. Wilkins and Mrs. Salisbury were not to put another toe wrong and if they did, they were to face the consequences. They have ignored his warning, they have caused their trouble, Colonel Tavington has announced their punishment."

"Punishment?" Emily quavered.

"How did you discover that I was meeting with Harmony again?" Richard asked. He'd forgotten his unpleasant encounter with Beth earlier, all he knew now was pure rage.

Emily saw it in his eyes, his desperate urge to slap her. Terrified, she said, "I heard Brownlow and Dalton talking about it. They were complaining of having to stand guard over your cabin, where they escorted Mrs. Farshaw. You are no better than me," she said, tears stinging her eyes. "You have affairs too! So does James! He's constantly with other women -"

"It is not your affair that I am interested in, though your choice is hardly an innocent one," Richard snapped. "It is your rushing to Mrs. Salisbury and your instructions that she warn Farshaw immediately! That is what we are discussing. What was done to Harmony as a consequence, that is what we are discussing!"

"Emily, did you know what Farshaw would do to Harmony, when you passed on that warning?" Beth asked.

"No, I didn't, I swear -"

"It does not matter!" Richard shouted.

"Did you know what he would do to her, when you resumed your affair with her?" Beth asked Richard, who gaped like a fool. "He's beat her before, hasn't he? She told me. He forced the baby from her then, and you both feared he would do so again, now. Yet you resumed your affair anyway."

"Whose side are you on, Beth?" Richard rounded on her.

"In this? Harmony's," Beth said. "But even she knew the consequences. The only one who didn't, was Emily!"

"She did know that there would be consequences if she interfered with camp followers again, and that, Beth, is what she has done. That is what she is going to be punished for, by order of the Commandant of the British Legion!" He saw her lips thin and he turned back to Emily, ignoring the now silent Beth. "Now you add eavesdropping on British Legion Officers to your list of offences!" He snapped and Emily cowered back in her chair. "So. As soon as you overheard this conversation, you sought out Mrs. Salisbury, is that correct? I'll bet you couldn't wait," Bordon began cracking his knuckles, Emily twitched with each resounding crack. "I'll bet you raced on down to camp as fast as your legs could carry you. He beat her, you damned bitch!" He hissed and again.

She cowered back against seat, wishing it would swallow her whole.

Richard had to forcibly restrain himself from lashing out. "Where you lying just now? Did you know he'd do that? Or were you just hoping?"

"I didn't know," she whispered. "I was shocked to see her afterward. I never meant for any of that to happen and I was appalled. I felt terrible, I truly did not mean for that to happen!"

"And yet you continue your affair with Farshaw, despite this guilt? Despite being appalled?" Bordon asked. "You realise he raped her, don't you? He raped, and beat, a pregnant woman! That's the sort of man you've taken up with, you stupid, damned fool of a woman!"

"What's going to happen to him?" Emily gasped, seizing Richard's arm. "Gods, please don't hurt him!"

Shucking off her hold, Richard glared down at her. "Farshaw's fate is not your concern," he announced. "You will never see him again. It's your own fate you that you should be concerned about now."

"What will happen to me?" She craned her head back to meet his eye.

"Your husband will determine your punishment for your infidelity. However, as I said, your meddling and trouble making are entirely Tavington's to discipline. You shall be delivered up to Mrs. Andrews, and you shall be birched by every single camp follower you have offended."

"Birched!" Emily gasped, shocked. "Beth, please!" Emily shifted her pleas to her friend. "Dear God, no - please, don't let them birch me!"

"Colonel Tavington has given the command, there is nothing Mrs. Tavington can do!" Bordon snapped, throwing a glare at Beth, who looked ready to attempt to intervene. "Go and speak to your husband, if you wish, but Mrs. Wilkins punishment will not be altered."

"I do wish," Beth said, wafting past Bordon for the door.

Bordon drew in a sharp breath, he began to count in an attempt to cool his temper.

"Please, won't you let me see him?" Emily gasped between sobs. "I need to say good bye!"

"You are in love with him, aren't you?" He sneered down at her. "You, Mrs. Wilkins, are a goddamned fool." He slammed the door shut, cutting off any further pleas.

It was coming on to sunset. The shadows gathered, light was beginning to fade. And a youth, shirtless, arms spread eagle across the frame, grunted with each lash that landed on his back. Richard watched in utter silence. Others too - Fallows, O'Hara, several Officers and many soldiers. The condemned man's full crime was not announced publicly, it was known only that Lieutenant Farshaw had greatly insulted and offended a Superior Officer. A fuller explanation would have bought shame to James Wilkins.

Although it was clear that Farshaw was terrified and in agony, Richard despised that such a bastard as he could act with such courage. Farshaw had held his head high and hadn't baulked once on the walk to the post. And he was not screaming anywhere near enough for Richard's tastes. He hated it, he wanted to rip the lash from the Sergeant's hands, to show the fool how it was done. Oh, how Calvin would howl then. To hear Calvin's screams and see blood sluicing from his back. Those almost silent grunts, and the bloody sluicing from his back were a damned joke. He should be screaming, and as for the blood, there should be a river of it. This flogging was not wrathful enough for Bordon. Thirty lashes. Only thirty bloody lashes. It was over far too soon for Bordon's liking.

Farshaw leaned his head against the post. His wrists still bound, he breathed heavily through the terrible pain.

Bordon, infuriated by the unsatisfying punishment, marched forward. He gripped Calvin by the hair and jerked, fingers twisting as he hauled Calvin's head up and back. Pale blue eyes bore into brilliant green.

"It might interest you," the Major began, drawling into that sweat slicked face, "to learn where your lover is at this moment."

"Oh yes?" Calvin asked, voice showing only a little of the agony that Bordon's hold must have been inflicting.

"Mrs. Wilkins has been given over to the other camp followers, those who she has caused trouble with since her arrival. And I am told that Mrs. Wilkins was strapped to a post much like this one, and each woman who has reason to hold ill will toward her, has taken her turn. They used a birch on her bare back and her bare rump, I believe," Bordon had been quite shocked to learn exactly how Mrs. Andrews had chosen to mete out Emily's beating. Giving the punishment over to Mrs. Andrews had been a bold and brilliant move on William's part, and Mrs. Andrews had shown shrewdness in its execution.

"You're a fuckin' damned pig," Calvin managed.

Bordon's lip curled. His fingers still twisted in Calvin's hair, he jerked and pulled Calvin's head back and forth and was rewarded with a screech of pain. "I am going to kill you, Farshaw." Richard said. He spoke softly, but his voice was no less implacable for it. "You will die slowly, and in agony, by my hand."

"O'Hara -" Calvin began and Richard laughed.

"Is as sick of you as can be. Do you see him rushing over here, has he called me back? He stood there and watched me nearly rip your hair from your scalp. Whatever protection you enjoyed before, is dust now. It won't be long, now. He'll release you back to Tavington's command, for he does not want you in his ranks. He never did. It won't be long now. And then, you'll be back with us, and then your torment will begin, don't you ever doubt it."

Calvin hissed as Bordon gave his head one last, vicious shake.

"Enough!" This from Fallows, who came forward, fury in every stride. Calvin saw him advance, and he also saw O'Hara standing there, stock still, doing nothing to stop Bordon, even as Bordon pulled back his fist. He aimed for Calvin's healing ribs, and Calvin tensed, jerking back but the blow did not land, for Fallows blocked it at the last moment, stopping it from connecting with Calvin's traumatised ribs. Fallows shoved Bordon hard, sending the other Major reeling back several steps. "I said, that is enough!"

"Majors!" O'Hara shouted, intervening only when it appeared that the two Officers were about to brawl.

"Easy," Major Fallows rushed forward and placed his hand on the arm of one of the young Private's. "He's in awful pain, just lay him down nice and gently. On his stomach, lad, that's it."

Gods, not my stomach. Calvin's ribs were still healing and he had been sleeping upright, leaning back against a pile of cushions; but with his back ruined, that was not an option. Calvin groaned as he was laid face forward on his bed. He breathed out slowly, relieved to discover that his ribs were not under the strain he'd thought they would be. It was not as painful as he'd feared.

Calvin had already been stripped down to his bare chest for the flogging. Now, blood seeped from the open wounds. Fallows stood back, making room for the two soldiers, who began washing those gashes. Calvin bore it stoically, he was breathing heavily and groaning, his fingers digging into the coverlet, the entire length of his body tight with pain and tension. Fallows admired the lad's bravery, he'd barely whimpered during the entire beating and even now, as his muscles rippled beneath his skin from the pain of his bathing, he still barely whimpered. Hissed, panted, grunted, but he did not cry. He did not weep or bawl like a baby. Calvin Farshaw was no dandy. Fallows began biting his fingernails, he covered his own whimper as he stared down at the half clad youth, trying to hide his extreme concern and increasing hunger.

The soldiers dried the youth's skin and Fallows came forward to closer inspect the weals criss crossing Calvin's back. He traced one with a gentle finger, and shuddered. Christ, that must have hurt. The poor boy. To add insult to injury, Bordon had pulled the lad's hair, causing even more agony. Fallows had been determined to let that slide - it was just punishment for Calvin's screwing that silly doxy! He had thought Bordon would leave over quickly but when he didn't, Fallows had had no choice. No one would think twice about him stepping in to protect his clerk when Bordon was clearly bent on forcing more pain. Besides, by then, Calvin had had learned his lesson.

"Leave us," he said quietly, turning back again. The soldiers startled, for they had not dressed Calvin's wounds. They obeyed without question and quietly withdrew from the chamber. "O'Hara wants you put straight back to work," Fellows warned Calvin. He finally saw they were alone and he knew a moment of panic. "Oh, don't worry," Fellows said. "I told him you were in my office, scribing. He won't know you're in here recuperating."

"That's… That's good," Calvin licked his lips and swallowed hard. "Ah, thank you."

Fallows pulled up a chair and sat beside Calvin. "Does it hurt terribly?" He asked in a soothing tone.

"Yes, Sir," Calvin replied. "O'Hara just stood there," he whispered. "Just stood there, while Bordon… He damned near ripped my hair from my scalp. Gods."

"Hmm," Fallows said. Calvin turned his head on the pillow, his green eyes feverish with pain and anger.

"You didn't hear him, but Bordon said he is going to kill me. Slowly, painfully. He said that O'Hara is going to release me back to Tavington's command, and that's when he'll do it."

"And I am doing all I can to prevent that," Fallows said and Calvin whirled his head back to the Major.

"He wasn't lying?" Calvin gasped, aghast. "O'Hara is considering it again?!"

"No, Lieutenant, and yes," Fallows replied. "For some weeks now, O'Hara has wanted to turn you loose. In taking you into his command, it seems the only person O'Hara was truly trying to protect, was your pregnant wife. With her no longer here, there is no further reason to keep you… And with your reputation and recent conduct, he is inclined to send you back to Tavington."

"They'll kill me. If that happens, they will fuckin' kill me."

"Yes, Bordon has made that abundantly clear. As I said, I'm doing everything I can to keep you - the only reason you haven't been turned back over to Tavington, is because I have championed you. Though I wonder why I go to such lengths, if the truth be told."

Calvin breathed out slowly and looked away.

"I need to treat your wounds. Here, I'll help you to sit up," Fallows took hold of Calvin's arm and helped the youth to turn over and sit. Calvin pulled his knees to his chest and leaned over them, presenting his arched back. He looked haunted and terrified. Vulnerable in a way Fallows hadn't seen in him before. "Perhaps a drink would help you, lad?" Fallows handed him a bottle of whiskey and Calvin immediately began to drink. Fallows reached for a jar with ointment and began rubbing it into the wounds on Calvin's back gently. Calvin hissed at the touch, sweat beaded his brow, he tried to bury the pain in the bottom of the bottle.

"You just stood there too," Calvin accused as Fallows worked. "You say you champion me, but you just let it happen."

"The whipping? That was not in my power to stop."

"After," Calvin said. "You let Bordon do that to me. Pulling my hair like that."

"Should I have done something earlier, Lieutenant?" Fallows asked, lifting one eyebrow. "I've promised you my protection but so far, you have given me nothing in return."

Calvin drew in a harsh breath and looked away.

"I could have stopped it sooner," Fallows admitted. "But I've become quite irritated with you, if the truth be told. You've been leading me a merry dance, flirting with me, allowing me to think that something more might come of it. And I champion you to O'Hara continually, for the hope you have given me. But you have no intention of committing deeper, do you?" He asked and Calvin stared at him, frozen in place. "I have as I promised you I would. Yet you continue to lead me along. And you go and fuck Mrs. Wilkins."

Calvin was sat there, unable to move as very real terror began mount. If he was losing his hold on Major Fallows… He could not be sent back to Tavington and Bordon. He could not. And now he'd earned the enmity of the only man powerful enough to convince O'Hara to let him stay. His fears were confirmed with Fallows' next words.

"I wonder why I should bother with you. Perhaps I shall go to O'Hara now and tell him to send you into Tavington's command immediately."

Calvin's head came up, his face horrified. "You said you'd protect me."

"I believe I have already addressed that," Fallows shot back. He continued to work, the silence stretching as Fallows rubbed the lotion into Calvin's skin, touching him far more than was necessary. Although Calvin was stiff as a post, he made no rebuke, nor did he shy away. "With your fucking of that whore, I realise now that you have been lying. You've allowed me to believe you agree with my way of thinking, but in taking Mrs. Wilkins for a mistress. you've proven that your propensity is only for the fairer sex."

"No, I… I wasn't lying," Calvin said, his heart pounding, the blood roaring in his ears. What else was he to do? What else could he say? Tavington and Bordon, they were going to kill him. He could wake in this bed tomorrow morning, all snuggled up and safe, or he could be at Fresh Water, where he might not wake at all. "I… I appreciate all you've done for me." He held Fallows eyes, he did not dare look lower, for he could pretend then, that his hand wasn't reaching for Fallows breeches, where he cupped the Major with his palm. Fallows eyes widened, Calvin tried not to cringe as he felt the Major's member stir and grow beneath his fingers.

"No more dangling the carrot?" Fallows asked, his voice already low and thick. "No more flirting and stringing me along."

I'll be sent back and they'll kill me. They'll kill me.

"No, Sir. I want to stay here," Calvin whispered.

"And I do not want you to leave," Fallows said. "Very well, I will speak to O'Hara. While I am on your side, he will not send you back there." He glanced down at Calvin's hand. "I do hope this isn't another ploy, though. A step up in your flirting, to keep me stringing along…"

"No, Sir," Calvin said.

"Shall I lock the door then?" Fallows asked, testing Calvin.

"Yes, Sir."

"With me inside, or out?" The silence stretched, Fallows kept his eyes on Calvin's. It was now or it was never - they both knew it.

"Inside, Sir."

"Very good," Fallows rose, Calvin's hand fell away from his breeches. When he reached the door, there was an audible 'click', as the key turned in the lock. Calvin was frozen on the bed, fighting panic. It was either Fallows - or Tavington and Bordon. Tavington and Bordon would see him dead, while Fallows… with a shudder, Calvin drank deeply from the bottle, the whiskey burning along his throat and dulling his senses.

A small, very contented smile curved Fallows' lips as wiped his fingers on a cloth. He picked up the bundle of bandages, began winding them around Calvin's chest as the lad continued to pull on the whiskey. With Calvin's wounds dressed, he sat up on the bed, careful not to lay his back too much into the pillow. Fallows removed his boots, then sat on the bed beside him. Calvin stared blindly out the window as Fallows' reached across Calvin's leg and his lap, his hand splayed over Calvin's crotch. Slowly, he began to palm Calvin's cock.

"Gods, you're massive. What a magnificent specimen," Fallows whispered in Calvin's ear as his fingers explored Calvin's growing erection through his breeches. Fallows was delighted by this wonderful, physical result. "You might have your doubts, Calvin, but I knew you would enjoy this."

Trying to ignore the Major; his words, and his hand, Calvin sucked at the bottle, swallowing until he needed air even as the Major tugged the laces of Calvin's breeches, then slipped his hand down inside.