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Waking up was hell after celebrating our victory on the field the day before. Ashby was overrun with people, some Royalist, some Roundhead. Walking through the town I struggled to see a comforting red coat, but the King's Lifeguard of Foot was nowhere to be found, having the honor of guarding the King's person at the Ashby Castle.
It was then that I noticed an officer (at least I thought he was, since he was wearing a sash). He was standing by a small group of soldiers in assorted coat colors. As I approached, he turned and yelled at me, "For Parliament of King?" My legs went wobbly, for I saw a number of green coated men about, all eagerly awaiting my answer. "King's Lifeguard of Foot", I replied. He Looked at me then, trying to discern if my faded coat was truly Madder red or not. "Form on my men Musketeer", he finally said. "But Sir", I started, "where's the Guard to form?" The officer did then turn from me, and his sergeant did come over. "YOU, QUIET IN THE RANKS! You've been pressed to serve in the Captain's Regiment", he bellowed. This evidently seemed funny to everyone except me. I turned to a green-coated musketeer beside me and said, "I thought all you green-coats where for Parliament." The musketeer looked me over hard and commented, "You never heard of Northumbria then?" "Oh", I replied, and promptly shut my clap trap. The command was given to 'Make Ready', and quickly all musketeers loaded their muskets. Once done I put musket to rest and waited. Being in the center of things can truly be interesting, but being on the front line when them Puritans march into town can be deadly! The damnable Roundheads came through Ashby like they owned it lock, stock and barrel, marching up as pretty as you please to stand not 50 yards away. It was there they gave fire at us. One man went down next to me, but we gave as good as we got, being veterans of the King's Army. They brought forward their Pike, and we brought to the fore ours. The battle was fierce. Pikes clashed against armor and cut through buff. The cobblestones grew slick with blood. The rank of pike in front of me retreated, and I fell back with them. Through the screams, yells and shouts, I could make out our sergeant's command to "Fall On!" Clubbing my musket, I did just that. I charged into the last file of enemy pike. Whether by folly or just dumb luck, I managed to make it clean through their body. I then laid about me to the left and right with my musket butt, loosing heads wherever I could. It was then that I heard the sergeant behind me cursing, "Get behind the lines you daft fool!" Looking around I saw that I was deep into the enemy ranks. Hitting pikemen from behind I proceeded managed to get back to the proper Royalist side. I did not want to be inadvertently skewered by my own men. The Roundhead scum broke soon after, and ran willy-nilly straight out of Ashby town. All and all a fine day's work for a musketeer serving in the King's Army. The worst part of the day, besides the nicks, cuts and bruises, was having to clean the blood and gore off my musket. A musketeer's work is never done.... |
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