Disclaimer: I do not own Patriot or any of the characters I happen to be taking liberty with. And Tavington is not currently locked up in my closet. I don't know where you heard that rumor but it is a lie. –looks innocent–

A/N: I'm really sorry I've not updated in so long. I've been very busy with playing nanny, going to weddings, and trying not to become a mass murderer of dogs. I'm just happy I finally finished this chapter. I don't think it's that great, but I'll leave that to you to decide. And I'm sorry it's so short compared to my other chapters. Anyways, I'll shut up. Hope you enjoy!

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Tavington found himself once more called to Cornwallis's office. This time he knew for sure what he had been summoned for. It had been two days since the ship incident and he had yet to receive his 'punishment.' He knew that this was it. It was time to find out whatever psychotic disciplinary action he was to be given this time. If his previous punishments had anything to say for Cornwallis's creative nature then he was not looking forward to it at all.

He stood, straight backed and tense, in front of the General's desk as his superior pretended to be occupied with his map of Ohio once more. He gritted his teeth, knowing Cornwallis was doing it only to irritate him. He did not need a bold lettered sign hung on his chest to announce that his superior's ploy was working. He took a deep breath a blew it out slowly while his hands clenched into fists behind his back.

"Well, Colonel Tavington, I have devised a proper punishment for you foolish antic at the ball," General Cornwallis straightened up and stared at him. "You may thank General O'Hara for this one. It was he who gave me the idea."

Tavington felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"We were just graced with twenty new colonial recruits who will join our militia. However, they are in desperate need of some military training and bearing. They are undisciplined, uneducated, and to say the least quite beneath such gentleman as we officers are supposed to be." The Colonel did miss the jab at his character, but kept his mouth shut–barely. "You are to be in charge of these...ruffians. You will train them in the art of war. Each man must be able to load and shoot their guns quickly and accurately. You will see to it that they are outfitted and provisioned with the proper equipment. You will see to this all personally. They will be your responsibility. Captain Bordon will take over your duties as Dragoon's commander until your assignment is carried out. I want these men trained and ready to fight in under a month. Is that understood?" Cornwallis explained carefully.

Tavington stood for a long moment staring at him in complete disgust and disbelief. He could not hide how he felt about this punishment. Bull shit. That is what he thought. Colonials. He had to train colonials. He hated them! Their morals and loyalties were subject to change whenever the little bastards damn well pleased. Why the hell was Cornwallis accepting such questionable recruits? And of all the people to choose to train them! Oh yes, the whole thing was definitely O'Hara's idea. He was, of course, seeking revenge for what Tavington had done to him at the ball. It was the perfect plan to get the colonial hating Colonel caught up in. That pompous arrogant little–

"Is that understood, Colonel Tavington?" Cornwallis ground out impatiently.

"Yes, my Lord, very," Tavington answered in a constricted voice.

Cornwallis nodded in satisfaction. "Good, General O'Hara will take you to the new recruits now. You are to meet them today and begin their training tomorrow. You are dismissed."

The General waved him away. Tavington tried not to glower as he stalked stiffly out to where O'Hara was waiting for him. He wished that he could tell the pansy how much he hated his guts and that if he was not afraid of being discharged there would be a bullet lodged between those little pig eyes. O'Hara seemed to know all this without being told. However, he acted completely oblivious to Tavington's ice cold glare as he led the Colonel away to meet his new recruits. The next month was going to be the best yet, Tavington thought cynically. He did take comfort in the fact that he could take some of his wrath out on the colonials. That brought a pleased smile to his face.

"By the way, Colonel Tavington, General Cornwallis told me to mention that you are not allowed to harm the colonials," O'Hara destroyed those lovely thoughts before they got far.

Tavington felt the usual scowl return as his hopes that the whole deal was not a total lose shattered. He hated O'Hara. Damn him, and damn Cornwallis, and most of all damn those idiot colonials. His life was turning into a living hell.

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He stood before a group of twenty men, aging anywhere from 16 to 30. They were a rag tag bunch of poorly dressed farmers, shops men, merchants, and assorted other individuals. They looked as if they had marched through every bog in South Carolina to get to the British fort. All of them stood ram rod straight as he scrutinized them. They had all heard stories of the 'Butcher.' None of them every dreamed in their worst nightmares that he would be their training commander. Despite their stiff figures, the Colonel could easily read the anxiety and fear in their eyes and expressions. That gave him some satisfaction to know he had that kind of power over the sad lot with out even having opened his mouth yet.

Tavington sighed wearily as he studied the pitiful miscreant band. He had his work cut out for him. Most of these men looked as though had never had to deal with violence or battle of any sort. Every last one of them looked as if they wished they were anywhere else but here. Of course, he did not blame them for that because he felt exactly the same. Still, with less than a month to train these men into a fit fighting unit, the task seemed less than pleasant. What to do with them? Where to begin?

He folded his arms behind his back and began to pace up and down in front of them as he thought it over. He glanced up to see General O'Hara standing off to the side watching him with an open expression of amusement. Tavington glared at him and stalked over.

"General O'Hara, I do not believe it is necessary for you to be here. I have this under control," he ground out.

General O'Hara smirked. "On the contrary, Colonel Tavington. General Cornwallis thought it best if I stayed for their first day of training to see if you would be adequate in handling this assignment."

Tavington clenched his teeth together, willing himself not to say a word as he spun around and stormed back towards his new recruited men. The men all straightened up, if possible, even more than before. Their nervousness was nearly tangible to the irritated Dragoon's commander. He paced back and forth once more, muttering nasty remarks under his breath about O'Hara as well as the group of 'pathetic ruffians' he was assigned to.

He suddenly whirled about to face all twenty men with a savage gleam in his eyes. They all shrank back a step as his attention was now focused entirely on them.

"How many of you can load and shoot a gun at a man without flinching?" he glared at them all.

No one said a word.

"How many of you have ever seen a battle?"

Still nothing.

"How many of you even know how to load and shoot?"

Almost all the men stepped forward.

"Well, that must be worth something," Tavington growled. He ran one hand down his face. "Now listen all of you. My name is Colonel William Tavington. I will be training you all in the art of war. You will refer to me as sir or Colonel–."

"Are you the Green Dragoon's leader?" one of the younger men blurted out.

He turned to stare at the young man. "I do not appreciate being interrupted. The next man who does so will regret it. I will not stand for insubordination and rebellion. You will do as you are told or there will be consequences–and I assure you they will not be pleasant. Is that understood?"

They all shifted about nervously.

"Is that understood?"

They all exclaimed in unison. "Yes, Colonel Tavington!"

"Good."

Tavington stayed with the rag tag group for the rest of the day, getting them outfitted in uniforms and supplying them with their own weapons, ammunition, and rations. By the time he was done he was ready to drown himself in the nearest river. General O'Hara informed him, with great glee, that he was to camp with the colonial recruits until their training was complete so that he could watch over them. Now not only was he assigned to train the little bastards, he had to sleep near them as well. He wondered if anyone would notice if he strangled O'Hara and left him in the manure pile behind the barn.

It was late when he finally gathered up his belongs and carried them over to the new recruits' camp. They had been placed in the center of the camp so that the rest of the regulars could keep an eye on them should any decide to try something foolish–like running away. They would of course be dragged back in less than an eye blink and promptly be made an example of. Tavington hoped one of them would try so he had an excuse to be violent.

He moved silently into the colonials' little camp, not wanting to wake those who were already sleeping and interested in hearing what the few around the camp fire were discussing so intently. He stashed his belongs in the tent that had been set up for him (thank God for small favors) before sneaking closer to the fire while staying out of sight.

"I tell you, mates, I am still glad we chose the British side. Despite that Ghost character, the rebels are losing. I do not want to be on the losing side when the war ends," one older man was telling the rest. Tavington rolled his eyes to himself.

There was a murmur of general agreement.

"I do not know if I would have, had I known we were to be trained by the 'Butcher.'" another remarked.

"Aye, I heard he's a right brute to the rebels," a thick accented man puffed on his pipe importantly. "I bet ye laddies a pretty shilling though that he be the one to bring down the Ghost and his followers."

The others nodded and murmured there assents.

"Well, he still scares me. That man has the eyes of a killer. The good Lord knows what he will do to train us properly in 'the art of war.'" the one who had spoken out of turn earlier in the day said.

"Yes, he might put us all in front of a loaded cannon or some thing like that to see who runs first," the first man joked.

The man with pipe frowned. "Hush, now. Do not be saying such things."

However, it was to late to take back the words. The damage was done though the colonials were unsuspecting of it. The fellow had inspired Tavington in a very bad way. The Colonel grinned viciously in the darkness as he retreated back to his tent to perfect his plans. Oh yes, this could prove to be quite entertaining after all. O'Hara would be unable to do anything because he would not harm them–just scare them shitless. If the recruits did not die of heart failure they would come out of the training with nerves like iron.

It was with sadistic glee that he awoke early and began putting his plans into motion. If General Cornwallis wanted these new recruits ready for battles in under a month then by God he would deliver. Not only that, he would make sure they were the finest soldiers out on the field amongst the regulars. He wanted them to be known for having been trained under him. He was no longer facing this challenge with dread or loathing as he had. Now he faced it with ambition and anticipation. Perhaps he should thank O'Hara for the opportunity to make the arrogant prick shove his shoe in his ass in disbelief.

Like hell he would.

He sent for his new recruits to join him out on the training field just before noon. He watched their expressions with veiled humor. He stood in the center of the field watching them line up horizontally to face him. Behind him, four cannons stood primed and ready with a crew to man each one. No matter where any of them stood they were all in the line of fire from one more of the cannons.

He watched them shift about nervously, eyes flitting about like beasts sensing a trap. He barely managed to hold back his smile of savage delight. He heard the thundering of horses' hooves crossing the field, and turned to see Bordon leading ten Dragoons including Wilkins' towards him.

"Good afternoon, Captain Bordon," Colonel Tavington greeted the stocky man pleasantly as he drew to a halt by the colonel's side.

Bordon merely blinked at the unusual polite behavior. He had grown used to Tavington's odd moods and found it better not to ask when in doubt. He returned the pleasantries in kind, feeling strangely for doing so. He shrugged it off and waited for the Colonel's orders. Tavington quickly explained his plans to Bordon, who tried not to look surprised. He was more than a little uneasy about the whole idea, but knew there was no point in voicing his opinion. He spun his horse away from Tavington with trepidation when the last of his orders had been given. The rest of his Dragoons followed him without question.

Colonel Tavington watched in satisfaction as the Dragoon's lined up behind the recruits only a few dozen yards behind them. The colonials began even more nervous which Tavington had not even thought possible.

"Now pay attention men!" Tavington's sudden declaration startled them. They all went rigid and stared at him with widened eyes. "This will be your first test. These cannons will be firing upon you–fully loaded. You are to stand your ground and, if you have enough courage, advance when I give the order. Any who try to run will be forestalled by my Dragoons. If you do try to run I guarantee you there will be some most unpleasant consequences. Is this understood?"

There was complete silence. No one moved.

"Good. Prepare yourselves."

Tavington nodded to the crews of the cannons and stepped back. There was a massive explosion of sound as four cannons fired in unison at the group of terrified recruits.

The reaction was instantaneous, and he could not help but feel a measure of cruel amusement from the colonials fear. Most fell to the ground as though they had truly been struck. The less wiser ones turned and tried to flee. They were immediately caught by the line of waiting Dragoons. Only two were bold enough to stay their ground. He could see them trembling from where he stood. Whether from fear of him or sheer courage the Colonel was impressed by their will to not cower like the rest.

When the smoke had cleared the colonials slowly peered up from their lowly positions on the ground. He smirked at their confused expressions. The cannon fire had been a ruse. They had only fired a large measure of gun powder. He stalked back out into the field to stand just in front of them, gazing down at them in the manner of patronizing father.

"On your feet!" he snapped.

They all scrambled to their feet, looking ashamed, bewildered, and still more than a little frightened.

"I am disappointed. It appears only two out of all of you were brave enough to stand their ground," he beckoned for those two recruits to come forward. After obtaining their names, he turned back to the others. "These men are your new superiors. When I am not here to provide child care for all of you these two men will be the ones giving orders. I expect you to show them respect and listen when they issue commands. Is that clear?"

There was a quiet murmuring of assent.

"As for those who foolish thought they could escape...," he turned his cold blue gaze to the pitiful little group that had been herded into a circle like cattle. "You will be receiving due punishment."

He sneered as their eyes went wide and they began to tremble. This was the kind of training he could handle. He took far to much pleasure than was probably healthy in frightening them. However, by the time he was done with them there would not be one amongst them who could not face down cannon fire and not flinch. This was the first of only many desensitizing training tactics. They would be wishing to face done the cannons when he was finished with them.

He smiled savagely before ordering the continue of the cannon training. He would make their life as much a hell as his was turning into, because he admitted, misery loves company.

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Alright, that's all for now. I'll try to update a lot sooner than I did this last time, but I'm not guaranteeing anything because I have no idea where this fic is going. shrugs Not that such a thing was ever important to this story in the first place. Oh well. Until the next update!